[ Hello, it means, when Anakin nudges his calf with his foot, both of them naked and sweating and post-orgasmic, Claude two and a half seconds from falling asleep, because Anakin was so good to him, working his cock between his lips, on his tongue and actually, just thinking about it now is enough to get his crotch going again, tingling pleasantly, something - definitely - happening in his nether regions.
Hello. He smiles, turning his head towards the other man who's looking at him sideways, not quite on perfect eye level, but since the rest of him is altogether beautiful as well, Claude can deal with that. Chest. Abdomen, hard, cock, halfway there. He exhales long and hard at the sight, rolling slowly onto his side, supporting himself on his elbow as he pops his head up on his palm. It's a comfortably casual position, like there are no expections and persuasion between them, just this easy atmosphere of want and have, being given and giving back. ]
That was so good. [ Just that, all those feelings and thoughts wrapped up in four simple words. Almost seems too little, right? A kriffing essay on the subject would be too little. Claude simply doesn't have the words, they don't exist in his vocabulary. So he carries on, voice dropping a notch as he puts his weight back on his arm and leans in to rub his face completely unapologetically into the mess of Anakin's hair, nose brushing over the other man's temple, cheek, corner of mouth. His words are a whisper. ] Gonna take me a little while to get hard again, that good.
[ A smile. ]
If you have any suggestions on what to do while we wait, I'm listening.
[ Hello, it means. Please give me your voice, I wanna hear it. ]
[ He feels Claude's focus shift as the other man responds, nonverbally at first. He turns onto his side, looking at Anakin, his curls sticking a little to his forehead and his eyes flooded with that pleasant after-buzz of orgasm. He looks beautiful. Looking at him, Anakin wants to simultaneously eat him up and wrap him up between his arms, to shield him.
(He's been having dreams again but he's not thinking about that, he's very, very definitely not thinking about that.)
Instead, he thinks about Claude. The shift is easy, habitual.
Then, he considers the fact that Claude might need suggestions on what to do while they wait, and yeah, that'll push everything else into the background, thanks. The taste of his climax seemingly magnifies on the back of his tongue, against the roof of his mouth. Anakin's cheeks redden slightly as he looks him over, his cock hardening the rest of the way without any further prompting. It's almost ridiculous, really, how hot he gets for the other man, how quickly. Then again, it's all physical, isn't it? Sex. Love.
So of course, there's a natural, physical outlet. It's a logical conclusion that doesn't come as easily to him as he thinks it should; he's had that thought more than once the past week, that maybe he's been thinking about these things in the wrong way. It's an odd idea that he can't quite seem to hold onto for long enough to properly examine but that's how many things go in Anakin's life so he simply lets it be. It'll come back or it won't. It's just a thought, nothing important. ]
You did promise some prep, from what I recall.
[ He doesn't actually have any idea as to what that might imply but his cock certainly isn't being even slightly critical. He glances down at it, raising one eyebrow at the way it's straining against his abdomen, the tip a little flushed, even. ]
[ When Anakin glances down at his now very hard cock, completely at the ready, Claude does the same, lifting his head a bit to get the right angle, seeing cockhead, flushing a light pink, looking swollen and glinting, and Claude's mouth actively waters again, so he has to swallow something thick at the back of his throat. Oh. He's so hard for him, he's so hard and he wants so much and Claude wants to. His cock swells slightly, so much he can actively feel it between his thighs. There, hello.
He kisses Anakin's cheek softly and sits up, stretching languidly on the way before turning his head enough to look down at Anakin over his shoulder. There's a heavy weight between his legs now. Heavy, hard. He could just take him, but the mere thought of it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue and he feels almost physically ill, so Claude knows it can't - and shouldn't, more importantly - be like that. He wants Anakin to enjoy it. As much as Claude can already tell, he's gonna enjoy it. He's gonna. Because Anakin will let him.
He blinks. Smiles. ]
Been wanting to lick you open ever since you talked about fucking yourself. [ And when Claude says he's been thinking about it, it's more like he's been repeatedly jerking off to the idea of rimming the other man. He's done it a few times, after Rainier, because Rainier would never let him, but even that feels like a kind of first. Like this. Between them. ] If you're for that as well, what about rolling over on your stomach?
[ Only then does Claude turn around fully, facing Anakin once more, waiting patiently for him to make his own decisions. He's been informed. If he gets consent now, he's getting it all, more or less.
His cock feels heavy. His body feels heavy. His mind's clear. He wants, kriff, he wants so much to make it good for him. ]
[ He leans into that kiss a little because Claude's lips are soft and enticing and also, he's just lovely. Feeling warm all the way to his core, Anakin's about to close his eyes again, content even with the tightness between his legs, when Claude says - when he says --
Anakin stares at the skylight, seeing absolutely nothing beyond it. Lick you open? What - he wants to lick him? Lick him where? Maybe it's just a phrase, some way to describe a sexual activity that he doesn't know about because sexual education in the Temple, in his case, can be summed up by Obi-Wan leaving five, heavy books on his bed with a note to ask if you have further questions which, obviously, no, no questions, ever.
Regardless, he turns onto his stomach quickly, his cock pressed against the mattress like this. He shifts his hips a little, the slight friction making his toes curl. ]
What do you mean, anyway? Lick what?
[ He spreads his legs a little, propping his chin onto his elbow and glancing sideways at Claude, curious. It's not that he didn't do anything with Padmé, obviously, they were married - but they didn't do many different things and that was perfectly fine by him, it's not like he was waiting for something incredible to happen when she was right there, filling up his entire world. It doesn't surprise him, how she's come to take up such a comparatively small part now - she left him, after all. That's that.
The point is, he doesn't know anything; it's a good thing, then, that Claude seems to know... well. A lot more. ]
[ As Anakin flips over, Claude watches the defined muscles in his back shift, tense, rise, fall and he feels almost light-headed from the sight of him, spread out like that in front of him. Crawling up along his body, covering him from shoulders and down to his buttocks, Claude's now very hard cock pushing against one of them, the friction making his toes curl, he starts kissing, feather-light, not lingering, just moving slowly downwards, shoulder blades, spine, ribs, his way from the nape of Anakin's neck to his tailbone. It's a slow descend. He doesn't hurry and he doesn't force it. One hand holding himself up, he uses the other to run down over Anakin's side, softly, lovingly. ]
Your ass.
[ It's said in between kisses, lips brushing over vertebrae and protruding ribcage, the back of him. Mm. He doesn't know, he has to remind himself. Anakin hasn't tried this before. Be forthcoming, be honest. ]
I'm going to put my mouth to your asshole and lick the rim with my tongue. Maybe push inside a bit, if you're okay with that. Can do it with my fingers instead, if you'd rather.
[ He speaks calmly and softly, voice lowered enough to put some edge to words like asshole and rim and tongue, just to stay in the mood. Stopping right above Anakin's ass, the curve of it beckoning at him, but kriff, he needs to be sure, he needs not to push, he needs to wait, he needs to...
His breathing sounds uneven and laboured. His cock is straining. ]
[ Claude answers with his body, first. He straddles Anakin, his body a firm weight against his back and Anakin breathes out slowly, resting his chin more fully on his crossed arms. There's a small amount of tension between his shoulders, in particular - since he lost his arm, he's had a tendency to overcompensate needlessly with his posture, left-over habits from before he'd grown used to his prosthetic. When Claude kisses his way down his back, the tension spikes for half a second before it dissipates completely, warmth spreading through his skin, into his muscles. He sighs, loudly. That's so nice.
Then, well, Claude tells him - oh. His. Oh.
Oh.
He blinks, staring at the headboard of the bed for a couple of seconds. He nearly forgets to breathe and then, Claude continues and he's kissing his way downwards because he wants to - God, the - the way he says that, the quality of his voice -- ]
Stop. I mean, stop talking.
[ It comes out embarrassingly close to a whine but Force, he's two seconds away from coming all over himself. He shifts uselessly, his hard cock caught between his body and the bed and every movement he makes means friction. Breathing out slowly and closing his eyes, he forces himself to be still, instead. It's a struggle because of course it is. ]
Or don't. I - [ A small, breathy chuckle. ] - how fast do you want me to come?
[ Yes, it means. He - that sounds like something he'd very much like to try. It's like oral sex, maybe, only penetrative in the opposite way, right? Not unlike eating out a girl. He blushes a little at the thought and reaches up absently with his metal hand, picking at the strands currently sticking to his forehead. His mind supplies him with the happy concept of Claude's tongue, wet and hard, slipping past his rim, of what it'll feel like, and immediately, his cock actually leaks. He groans, shifting beneath Claude again, despite his best efforts. ]
[ Anakin is all restless energy beneath him, muscles tensing and working and being hard motion beneath Claude's front, chest, upper abdomen. He loves it, this feeling, this feeling of being on top and taking him where he wants to go. Because that's the point of it, Anakin wants to go, he wants to go bad. So Claude will lead him there and they'll fall into step and they'll climb the last peak together. His breath feels tight and hitched in his throat. He chuckles, too, to mirror the other man when Anakin groans, show him it's okay, they'll go slow, they'll take it at whatever pace fits him. It's his call, start to finish, Claude's just providing his mouth. His lips, his tongue.
His own cock feeling achingly hard where it's bouncing against his stomach, Claude settles down between Anakin's spread legs, knees bent and taking his weight, his upper body crouching in over Anakin's ass, the delve of the cleft, buttocks rising. Kriff. Kriff, he just wanna eat him out. He wants to hear him whine for it, all the sounds Anakin makes when you're pleasuring him, he wants that. Feel his ass work around his tongue, twitching under his lips. He says, voice soft: ]
We'd just wait it out, if you did.
[ With that, Claude reaches down and gives his own cock a squeeze, stay, it means, before spreading his fingers, all ten of them, a hand on each ass cheek, over Anakin's buttocks and spreading him open, the heavy scent of musk and sweat and their first round settling in his nostrils so his cock's suddenly fighting to do just that. He might die, he might kill himself like this. What a way to go.
His first instinct, as soon as he's pressed his whole head in between Anakin's buttocks, the pressure of his body around him maddening, is to reach down and close his fingers around his cock instead, keep him tethered. But he doesn't, Rainier used to do it to him, to make sure he didn't come before he wanted him to, and like he's just told Anakin... It doesn't matter if he comes fast or slow, the other man's twenty-two, they'll wait five minutes max and be ready to go again. It doesn't have to be like that.
It doesn't.
So, instead he lets a heavy dripple of spit slide down over Anakin's puckered hole, feeling the wetness against his lips as he closes them over the rim of his asshole, just giving Anakin a moment to get used to the sensation, feel the sensation of his lips tightening, light suction, tongue tip coming out and following the shape of his asshole a couple of times. ]
[ He smiles at Claude's words but at the same time, a part of him - the part that has never backed down from a challenge, not on Tatooine and not afterwards, either - grows even more intent on waiting at least a little, at least enough to get a feel for this new, exciting sexual discovery. So, whilst Claude takes hold of his buttocks - oh, and opens him, Force, that makes him feel incredibly naked - he wriggles a hand - the metal one - down between his own legs and grabs his cock, giving it a tight, none-too-comfortable squeeze. There. That'll help.
And just in time, too. ]
Ah - Claude, oh my...
[ He bites his lower lip, his breathing uneven and shaky. His arsehole twitches at the feel of Claude's spit, dripping down between his buttocks and then, moments later, the heat of his breath and his lips, closing over the rim. And - suction. Suction. With a gasp, he clenches up completely by instinct and stills, taking a second to breath a little slower, focusing as much as he can on relaxing his muscles. It's just - oh, that's sensitive, that's - and how many nerves does a person have down there, anyway? His cock is hard and throbbing between his fingers and it takes every ounce of Anakin's willpower not to stroke himself. His balls feel achingly tight.
On another slow exhalation, he manages to relax fully. His mental shields, too, slip a fraction and the air around them seemingly warms slightly, adding to the heavy sense of arousal already hanging in the room. ]
Sorry, it's a lot. [ His voice is light, borderline-trembling. ] Please, keep going.
[ His whole body goes semi-rigid and Claude halts immediately, waiting it out while the other man grabs his cock tight in his metal hand, the dark shine of it visible between his legs like this and it's looking quiet hot, quite, oh.
He draws back only a little, just to give Anakin the opportunity to gather his wits, his composure, watching the way his asshole clenches, the rim twitching and his own cock could use a metal hand right about now, kriff. Claude watches him halfway in a daze, licking his lips and tasting nothing but him, the dark, heavy musk of his ass, his own flavour on top of it, like a gentler afternote.
Oh, oh. He licks his lips, again and again and again.
Claude has rimmed people before. A few times. But it was never like this, it was never this vulnerable and this arousing, it was just something he did to get inside when he couldn't - wouldn't - fuck them with his cock. It was closeness, in lieu of anal. Now everything is sizzling hot around them, it's not just the sensation of arousal, it's a physical heat, like the air is catching fire. He breathes, hard, fast, and runs one hand, flat and sweaty up to Anakin's tailbone, curving his palm over that point, holding him. Not down, just... holding him, stroking him, letting him feel him there. I'm here, I won't leave you behind.
Okay, he whispers right before diving in again, flattening his whole tongue over Anakin's asshole, licking his rim in broad strokes this time, bigger, harder, feeling how he's relaxed and is opening up, little by little.
Then, he moans, his other hand digging in to Anakin's left buttock, keeping him open as he starts interchangeably sucking on his rim and firmly stroking him with his tongue. ]
[ Claude, because he's kind like that, waits Anakin out and then, dives right back in. His hand against Anakin's lower back is a calming weight, nothing that couldn't be removed or ignored if necessary but there, regardless, like an offer. Anakin has had few, true offers in his life; Master Qui-Gon offered him to become a Jedi and after that, he thinks... he thinks he's been led, first and foremost, and he's needed that, too, he has. It's how he functions and there's nothing wrong with that, if you're being led by people who understand you. So he's been told. So he's -
Yes.
So he's been told.
Now, he gasps and pushes his forehead against his other arm, spreading his legs because he wants to, he wants Claude all the way inside of him. The other man moans, fingers digging into Anakin's skin, while he alternates between sucking on his rim and stroking it. The sensation is almost maddening - wetness, softness, a near-constant sense of pressure, teasing but even, steady - and within long, his gasps have become moans, higher than he'd ever admit to, his hips shifting beneath Claude as he pushes back against him, against his tongue. ]
I'm - oh, it's - I'm gonna...
[ Come, he can't say, because in that moment, his body tightens, his arsehole clenching beneath Claude's mouth, and then he comes, hard and fast, spurting up against his own stomach, against the sheets. He swallows his own sounds mostly by accident, his breathing coming out harsh and jagged, as he ruts against the mattress, riding out his climax. His mind feels deliciously blank, all thoughts drowned out by the rush of pleasure surging through him.
He manages to free his metal hand from underneath his body, letting it flop bonelessly against the bed.
Then, he just lies there, breathing raggedly, his arse feeling wet and tingling, still. ]
[ They're working so close together now, there's no space left between them. Claude feels Anakin's body work, really work for it, charging at the finish line, muscles tightening and tensing, his asshole contracting beneath his tongue and it's possibly the hottest thing he's ever had in his life. Not that he owns Anakin, no one owns Anakin but Anakin himself, it's more... He's giving Claude this, he's giving Claude himself, his body, the way it shakes and twists beneath his hands and mouth. Claude's own cock is leaking all over the sheets, he can feel himself leaving wet spots, it's that bad. Good. That good.
Groaning as Anakin finally gives himself over completely, his voice breaking on the last word as his asshole actively convulses against Claude's tongue and Claude has to reach down and grab his own cock now, trying not to think of Rainier while doing it, holding himself back forcefully, tightening until it hurts, not yet, not yet, not yet. And while Anakin rides his orgasm, Claude slowly eases his stimulation down, until it's just soft lapping at his ass, twitching beneath his ministrations. Everything smells like Anakin like this, everything feels like Anakin, everything is Anakin. Everything is...
He blinks back tears, releasing himself, his cock throbbing still, and sits up slowly, his curls clinging to his forehead and he reaches up to push them back, covering his mouth with the inside of his arm as he does so, in case Anakin isn't that interested in getting ass breath in his face. Like that, Claude crawls up along his back, stays on top of him, lets him feel his hard he is for him still, how he's had to fight a brave battle not to follow him right over the edge. Eases down on top of him, cheek against the nape of his neck, they've got hair everywhere. ]
[ It takes him a moment to clear his mind enough to reply, his muscles relaxing all over, gentle echoes of pleasure thrumming through him as he breathes, slowly. So good. Wetting his lips, his bottom lip stinging a little - he must have nicked himself, oh well - he swallows and clears his throat for good measure. Even so, when he speaks, he sounds exactly as wrecked as he feels, his throat still a little used from sucking Claude's cock before. ]
Better than good.
[ He feels Claude against him, heavy and warm over his back, and while that's very nice, it's also a little hard to get at his mouth from this angle. Shifting carefully, he slips out from underneath the other man just enough to turn onto his side, then his back, bringing them face to face instead. He can smell himself along with Claude and it feels like sex, magnified, his belly tightening again, wanting. He'll be hard again in a matter of minutes. Reaching up, he nudges Claude's arm away from his mouth, leans in and kisses him, not particularly deeply or hard. Just easily, like they belong like this, lips to lips or in whichever way they'd fancy at any time. It's easy, the two of them.
For once, something is.
Claude is rock-hard against his thigh and Anakin thinks about his cock going inside him - oh - and immediately, that's precisely what he wants. Provided the other man's still up for it. He breaks the kiss, Claude's lips glistening and soft in his wake. He looks at him, his own gaze dark from arousal, still, but calm. ]
[ Anakin slips out from underneath him and Claude is quick to move aside enough to make the transition easy. He's okay, he's better than that. It's fine, all good. Claude is still breathing slightly raggedly, everything smelling like Anakin and like himself and Anakin moves his arm away, leaning into him, to take the flavour from him, his own, back. He's taking himself back. Claude makes a soft whimpering sound, his cock jerking slightly between them, and kisses Anakin back, softly, considerately. Like they're just giving and taking equally, neither of them left with less in the wake of it. Only shiny, thobbing lips. Shiny, throbbing cock.
At Anakin's question, he sighs slightly, not from irritation or discomfort, though, honestly, his cock is killing him, but from relief. Just exhaling to feel his body relaxing. He reaches up to run his hand over Anakin's hip, protruding hipbone, strong upper thigh. He strokes it slowly. Sweaty skin against sweaty skin.
Does he still want to have him? ]
Yes.
[ Claude doesn't think he's wanted anything so much in his entire life, and his life goal is peace in the galaxy and equality between the beings living there. He knows about wanting. This is different, this is a physical ache to have, to possess, to take.
It scares him a little. ]
But you'll be a bit hypersensitive now. I'm not sure -- [ A pause. No, don't pin it on Anakin. Never pin it on Anakin. ] I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt you.
[ He can sense Claude's hesitation, doubly so now with his own shields lowered and along with it, something else, something that feels darker, deeper. Not just insecurity, either. I'm not sure he says and catches himself, saying it as it is, and Anakin can't help but wonder what kind of hurt he's afraid of causing; sounds like he could get very specific indeed, if he were to ask. Frowning, he pushes the thought away forcefully before it can truly settle within him, lest he ruins the mood with his anger. They both have things they haven't told each other, personal pitfalls that they're trying not to drag each other into. At some point, he'll know Claude's, he'll know and he'll keep him from getting hurt ever again.
But for now, they'll settle with this, with Claude who does want to have him, even though something about it scares him.
Gaze softening, Anakin slips his flesh hand around him, flattening his palm between his shoulder blades. He can feel him breathing like that, the rise and fall of his upper body. Moving slowly, he lifts one leg up and bends it, curling it across Claude's lower back and thrusting upwards, feeling the other man's hard cock sliding over his own, skin against skin. It's nothing particularly overwhelming, just touch and that slight sense of friction. He takes Claude's hand, metal fingers closing around his wrist, and gives it a slight tug. ]
You won't if you start slow.
[ He leans his forehead against Claude's. His voice sounds less shaky now, his breathing more even. ]
[ He's not afraid of it because he hasn't done it before. Claude is generally humble enough to acknowledge when he has shortcomings or needs help to accomplish something. He's afraid of taking Anakin, because -- he's afraid of taking Anakin, he's afraid of doing something that denies him his autonomy, his natural freedoms. The way Rainier did it, filling him up until there was nothing left of Claude inside, just empty space and pain. And although he knows, logically, that it was not Rainier's cock in his ass that did that to him, it was Rainier through and through, he's afraid he'll become that person, too, at the other end of his cock.
But Anakin wraps himself around him, one arm around his shoulders, a leg around his waist, pulling him in until they're rubbing up against each other, front against front, pelvis against pelvis, cock against cock and Claude sucks in a sharp breath, looking into Anakin's face, staring practically, as he pushes their foreheads against one another, their eyes on perfect level, perfectly even, perfectly equal.
It won't be Claude's cock that did that to him. It would be Claude, and Claude would never... He would never.
Start slow, Anakin reminds him and Claude nods, kissing his brow, right where he carries the scar across his right eyebrow. When he draws back, he lifts his right hand to his mouth and sucks his index and middle fingers into his mouth, slicking them up good before reaching down between them, tracing his wet fingertips over one of Anakin's buttocks, until he can reach far enough back to trace his loosened asshole, feel how he's still open and quivering.
He won't hurt him. He quite simply refuses to do it. This time, at least, it's his decision to make. ]
[ He blinks when Claude kisses his brow, looking up at him and watching hungrily when he sucks his fingers into his mouth. He makes some delicious sounds throughout, getting them all sloppy and wet. His arsehole clenches a little in anticipation, though he doesn't actually know what he's waiting for - after all, he hasn't actually fingered himself much at all. Sure, he'd poked around a bit, trying to widen himself enough for the, uh, tool, he'd stolen from the kitchens but it hadn't been very pleasurable. And then, well, then he'd stuck the thing past his rim too fast because that's how Anakin rolls and afterwards, he'd been a bit too busy putting Bacta on it to do anymore exploring.
Anyway.
Shivering a little, he breathes out slowly at the first feel of fingertips against his arsehole. Claude's right - he's overly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm and he's instantly grateful for the other man's slow pacing, the way he simply traces the rim, feeling him out. He nods, kissing a trail down the side of Claude's cheek. ]
It's good. Keep going.
[ He tries to thrust up against the other man's fingers and manages a passable move - from this angle, he needs to bend a good amount in his waist but happily, Anakin is flexible enough to do somersaults across a shooting tank in the midst of an active battle field and this, in comparison, is nothing. It's just... enjoyable. Definitely enjoyable. Smiling against the side of Claude's face, he leans in and kisses his neck, mouthing over the soft skin, finding the beat of his pulse and sucking at it. ]
[ Anakin is all talk, with his mouth and with his body. He's pushing back against Claude's fingers, saying the same as his lips, keep going, but much more loudly, because Claude feels it, his slick rim sliding over his fingertips, his opening hot and enticing where they slip in slightly at the movement. Meanwhile, Anakin is kissing the side of his face, his neck, licking and sucking at his pulse point to the point of distraction and Claude is shivering against him, trying to concentrate and trying not to kriffing come all over the other man's stomach like this.
But he can do it, he can keep it together, for Anakin's sake, so he gets the full experience, all of it, all of it, all that's good and close and hot. He swallows and nods, his chin slipping into Anakin's hair, the mess of it on his head. Listening to his own breathing rattling out of him, he shifts on his knees and eases himself off the other man enough to allow for him to move his arm.
Then, he pushes his fingers together and carefully, slowly, gently probes at Anakin's opening, feels how tight he is, like whatever he used back then's the first and only thing to have breached him. The thought makes Claude absolutely hazy from arousal. Anakin is not only his first, he's Anakin's first, too. They're each other's. He exhales, forces himself to. Forces himself to breathe. ]
It's gonna be a little tight. Tell me -- [ A hitch in his voice as he angles his fingers and pushes in, to the first knuckles, both of them, just to give the Jedi the full feeling of width without going deep. And so, Claude tries again. ] -- tell me if it hurts.
[ Experimentally, he withdraws his fingers again until they're almost slipping out, then pushes in, not deeper, but wider, parting his fingers slightly inside Anakin. ]
[ Claude shivers, leaning into his lips whilst clearly working on keeping things together, on delivering. Meanwhile, something is seeping into the Force between them, something not unlike a touch of... anxiety? Not quite. Something like it. He frowns, pulling back from Claude's neck and looking up at him just as the other man pushes his fingers in, two at once. He takes a second to relax himself and there's a slight, unimportant burn - then, quickly, it dissipates, as Claude oh-so-carefully withdraws and pushes back in, Anakin's rim widening to accommodate the girth of his fingers. Those are... big fingers, actually, oh. For a few breaths, he can't focus on anything else; unlike the unfortunate vegetable he'd found in the kitchen, Claude's fingers are flexible and his body shapes itself around them, opening gradually in time with his thrusts.
He's never felt anything like it. It feels deeply intimate, so much that he almost can't breathe for it and he blinks. Impulsively, he curls one arm around Claude's neck and pulls him in a little, enough to press his forehead against his shoulder briefly. He shuts his eyes. Breathes deeply, then pulls back, lips gliding over Claude's earlobe, along the edge of his chin. ]
It's - it's nice. You are.
[ His voice is dark and rough, syllables trembling. He focuses on Claude again, on the feel of him, inside, outside - and there it is, yes, that note of tension and he smiles, warmth spreading in his chest. He's known no one like Claude, ever. ]
Don't be afraid. It's fine, you won't hurt me.
[ He bears down slightly on Claude's fingers, bringing them in deeper, feeling that stretch, delicious and sharp, perfect. ]
[ Anakin is so giving, yeah. The way he slips his arm around Claude's neck and pulls him close, forehead against his shoulder as Claude penetrates him, takes up that space, feels what he's like inside out. Like he didn't know. Claude would know even if he'd never touched him at all. Breathing raggedly, he turns his head in against the side of Anakin's face and smells his own breath on him, beyond that, his ass, his sweat, every single thing Anakin has given him since they began this wonderful, strange thing they're sharing now.
About to withdraw his fingers and maybe rub at the other man's rim some more, loosen him up a bit first, preparing him, Anakin simply -- decides for himself, bearing down on them enough to push them further inside, until Claude's fingers are buried to the knuckles in his ass. It's so hot and tight and his cock is going in there, how did Rainier ever make room...? He pushes the thought aside, just as Anakin seems to touch down on the thing hanging between them. Don't be afraid, he says, sounding dark and rough and soft and gentle at the same time. They're touching everywhere and Claude has never had anything like this, he's never had anyone like him. Amazing Anakin. Breathing deep through his nose, he angles his head enough to run his mouth over Anakin's jawline, the roundness of his cheek until he finds his mouth, blindly, kissing him deeply. Soft tongue. Warmth. Heat. The tight cavity of it. Claude wants in. He wants in him.
Then, he starts pulling out his fingers, feeling the slide and making in pleasantly slow so Anakin will feel it, too, that stretch and all the nerve endings and the friction of skin against the sides of his asshole. Just thinking about it is making Claude feel dizzy from want. Does he still want him?
If Anakin even has to ask, he's doing something wrong.
Groaning loudly, he starts a slow fucking motion, burying into him in intervals, filling him out completely, feeling his ass stretch and give and accomodate, because it can take so much more. Anakin can take so much more. He's been sent to war. He's a Jedi. He knows Claude is afraid. Of hurting him, only that.
As he pulls out of the kiss, he's gasping, pressing his forehead to Anakin's and staring into his face, almost desperately. His own cock is mostly just hurting at this point, throbbing and leaking precum everywhere. ]
Gonna push a third in now. After that, a fourth. I'm big, it'll still stretch...
[ Like that, he aligns his ring finger with the others and on the next instroke, pushes it past Anakin's already stretching rim. Slow glide. Give him time. But Anakin has already shown, if he wants it, he'll take it for himself. He'll take that and more. ]
[ The kiss is slow and deep, lots of tongue, and Anakin relaxes into it, the taste of sex a lovely mix of the two of them, of everything Claude's given him and whatever he's managed to return. When Claude starts fucking him with his fingers, going deep, seemingly taking up all available space (though, Anakin knows he can handle more, it all sort of... expands in there, it's weird but interesting), Anakin has to concentrate for a moment, forcing himself not to clench up. His body isn't used to anything going in and it feels equal parts pleasurable and strange, like something he'd love to get used to. When Claude breaks the kiss, he manages to hold back a whine of disapproval only just, his lips still parted, feeling wet and open and lonely without him. ]
I - oh...
[ He breathes in sharply as Claude adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely noticeable now, not painful but undeniable, his mind incapable of focusing on anything else. When he accidentally tightens up around Claude's fingers, his eyes actually widen from the sudden, bright spark of pain - oh, so that's what not to do, got it. He breathes out. Relaxes. The pain disappears. ]
You could skip that, if you want. Think I'm getting the hang of it.
[ They're gonna need slick, though, whether or not Claude wants to skip ahead. He can feel the other man's fingers getting a little dry and that'll get awkward, at length. Closing his eyes, he does that thing that Obi-Wan would chastise him for doing and lifts the small bottle of lube from the bedside table. It floats over them, ending up by Claude's free hand as Anakin runs his metal fingers through his curls, taking care not to get any strands caught in the machinery. Padmé has long hair. He's an expert. ]
[ There's a moment. A moment when Anakin actually tightens around him and Claude almost wants to mutter against him, don't, you'll hurt, it'll hurt, but the other man seems to make that same observation himself, eyes wide and they're staring at each other like this, while Claude slows down his thrusts, both to give Anakin's ass rim time to adjust, but also to give Anakin himself time. To take it, to feel that he's taking it, the feeling of penetration probably foreign and new to him. Claude's cock is weeping and he wants to reach down and palm himself or grab himself or something, but a part of him wants to just feel it. All of it. The longing and the want and the pain of it, of waiting.
At this point, his fingers are drying up and they shouldn't, it'll get uncomfortable very quickly. About to cuss and lean over for the lube on the bedside table, Anakin... apparently gets there first, because the bottle floats through the air, landing neatly next to his free hand and Claude takes a second to stare, thinking Force and Force user, and then he smiles, leaning in to kiss Anakin on the nose before unscrewing the bottle one-handedly, his fingers getting covered in the cool, thick lube. ]
Good for us. Bad for us is, I'm not. Give me a moment, okay?
[ Breathing fast and desperate now, Claude withdraws his fingers from Anakin's ass, smears them all up in lube too, before pushing the little finger in against the rest and starting the painstaking process of inching most of his kriffing hand past Anakin's swollen, open rim, fucking into him in slow, small wriggling motions.
He gives.
He kriffing gives. His ass opening up around Claude's fingers gradually, a bit stubbornly, too. Like Anakin. Claude is panting. With his other hand, also still covered in lube, he reaches down finally and grabs his cock at the base, squeezing once before slowly slicking himself up.
It's almost enough to make him go cross-eyed. He meets Anakin's gaze. ]
[ Give me a moment says Claude, confirming that yes, there's something there, something about carefulness and worry and maybe more but Claude proceeds to press his little finger in along with the rest and Anakin's done trying to figure him out for now. Oh. Oh. He groans and spreads his legs slightly, shifting. He's suddenly full to the brim, it feels like - Claude's fucking into him in slow motions, his fingers slick. Like this, he can't close up at all; instead, he has to stay relaxed, stay open and receptive and he loves it, the feel of it, of simply letting the other man in.
Anakin has lived with secrets for many, many years. And as opposed to his name, his mind, his emotions - those secrets own him, in ways that he can never seem to get around.
It's nice, this. The opposite. ]
I know.
[ He runs his metal hand down the back of Claude's neck. The sensors tell him smooth and damp - the warmth doesn't translate quite so well but that hardly matters when he's got the other man's fingers buried in his body. He shifts, keeping his left leg slung around Claude's lower back, holding on that way and staying open to him simultaneously. He cranes his neck upwards, his abdominal muscles flexing as he pulls himself closer, speaking against the shell of Claude's ear: ]
Looking forward to it. [ A hot exhalation against the other man's skin. ] Go in all the way, if you can. I haven't tried that before.
[ Because honestly, once he'd managed about two inches of that vegetable, he'd decided that he didn't need any further training, thanks. ]
[ As Anakin slides his metal hand down over Claude's neck, Claude leaving damp traces all over his mechanics, Claude feels the last bit of control slip. It doesn't help when Anakin, completely effortlessly, lifts himself up to be able to whisper in Claude's ear, all dark muttering voice and Claude can actually feel his balls drawing up slightly. Hard and aching and he wants to go, he needs to go, he needs... Exhaling sharply, he forces himself to carefully extract most of his hand from Anakin's ass, feeling how he is gaping wide and ready and Claude settles in over his body, open and receptive now, leaning on his one arm while the other hand is grabbing his cock, leading it to his asshole, briefly just tracing the rim there, feeling the muscle, the tightness, the heat. Feeling him, all that he is, because Anakin expands, he expands like no one else Claude has ever met in his entire life.
Swallowing once, he leans into the other man's touch, leans in against his face and kisses him again, lighter this time, to allow him to breathe and speak and be loud in whatever way he wants, while simultaneously he starts pressing inwards, until he feels the rim fit tightly over the tip of his cock and he's pushing against the resistance, trying to be slow, trying to be careful, and all he can think is, kriff, he's tight, he's tight and hot and I gotta go all the way, I gotta go there, he wants me to, he wants, I want...
Groaning almost pitifully, Claude draws back from Anakin's mouth enough to breathe wet and hot against his lips, staring into his face as he slowly sinks past the rim of his asshole, into the heat of him, into the depths, that go on and swallow him up.
He doesn't stop. He goes slow and he is careful, but he doesn't. Stop. Heaving for breath, Claude feels himself in Anakin to the hilt. All of him pushed into the heat of his body. He almost feels like crying. The sound he makes is somewhere between a sob and a whimper. After a trembling, tearful second, he manages, voice a whisper, hoarse, raw. ]
[ To begin with, when Claude removes his hand, Anakin very nearly grabs at him - his body feels completely devoid, empty in ways that he can't properly understand, while his arsehole closes up, the muscle swollen. He forces himself to keep still, to stay relaxed and let the other man get there in his own time which isn't, objectively, long at all. The kiss is lovely, not overly deep or hard but sweet, like it's just another way to connect in the interim while Claude - yes. That. Anakin blinks up at him at the feel of his cock, pressing against his rim. It seems impossibly large and for a second, he worries whether his body's defective somehow, like, maybe he's one of the few beings in the whole entire galaxy who cannot, in fact, swallow a cock with his arse - ]
Aah!
[ It comes out maybe slightly startled - not because Claude's moving particularly fast but because he does follow instructions pretty well and Anakin said, all the way and all the way, it kriffing is. The other man sinks into him to the base, slowly, carefully. Anakin swallows his next sounds, mostly to close his mouth or he'll start drooling; the feeling is completely overpowering and he can't think for it, all he can think is oh and he's so full, he's bursting and Claude is everywhere -- ]
Please.
[ His voice, not unlike Claude's, is trembling. The other man sounds like he's on the verge of tears and Anakin gets him, he really does. Keeping himself relaxed, he pulls Claude down towards him, guiding his forehead to his shoulder, metal fingers stroking through his hair slowly. He slips his flesh hand between them, running over Claude's ribs, his stomach. Then, he finds his own cock further down between them and sneaks his fingers around it. It's half-hard. He hasn't really been considering it much. ]
You're perfect. Give me what you got, Claude, come on.
[ He's shaking, all his muscles tense and quivering from it, and Anakin is everywhere around him, hot and burning and tight and his muscles, too, are quivering, Claude can kriffing feel it. He can feel it everywhere they touch, inside and out. But Anakin is also good and he drags Claude down against his front, holding him there, holding him still, taking his time and giving it to Claude simultaneously. Giving him time, along with himself. Claude has no words to describe the sheer magnitude of his gratitude, he couldn't say it even if he tried. He's for once utterly speechless.
Breathing raggedly, he braces himself on both sides of Anakin's shoulders, keeping hoisted over him and looking down at him while he slowly pulls out once more, feeling almost lost when not being inside Anakin's body, like the rest of the world, Coruscant, Paris, the galaxy at large, are foreign elements in comparison. The friction makes his whole body tighten up and it feels unbelievably natural to just... push in again, ease himself in all the way, then pull out, push in. The first thrust is a rattling, startling thing, then Claude does as Anakin asks of him. He gives it to him, he gives him every deep-seated, smooth thrust, listening to himself breathe funny, feeling his whole body respond, the tingling no longer only in his crotch, but in his thighs, his abdomen, his back, across his face. He more or less throws his forehead down upon Anakin's chest, getting a good look at his half-hard cock like that, losing some rigidity the way it does during intense prep. ]
You are. You are, you are, you are...
[ And because he wants Anakin to feel all the things he is, Claude slowly, with a push of his arms, hoists himself over him again to be able to get the angling right, on the next instroke positioning himself better for it and knowing, knowing it'll be good. It's good between them. It's good here.
He drags himself over Anakin's prostate, not like an apology or a reward, but like a gift. Mine. ]
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Hello. He smiles, turning his head towards the other man who's looking at him sideways, not quite on perfect eye level, but since the rest of him is altogether beautiful as well, Claude can deal with that. Chest. Abdomen, hard, cock, halfway there. He exhales long and hard at the sight, rolling slowly onto his side, supporting himself on his elbow as he pops his head up on his palm. It's a comfortably casual position, like there are no expections and persuasion between them, just this easy atmosphere of want and have, being given and giving back. ]
That was so good. [ Just that, all those feelings and thoughts wrapped up in four simple words. Almost seems too little, right? A kriffing essay on the subject would be too little. Claude simply doesn't have the words, they don't exist in his vocabulary. So he carries on, voice dropping a notch as he puts his weight back on his arm and leans in to rub his face completely unapologetically into the mess of Anakin's hair, nose brushing over the other man's temple, cheek, corner of mouth. His words are a whisper. ] Gonna take me a little while to get hard again, that good.
[ A smile. ]
If you have any suggestions on what to do while we wait, I'm listening.
[ Hello, it means. Please give me your voice, I wanna hear it. ]
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(He's been having dreams again but he's not thinking about that, he's very, very definitely not thinking about that.)
Instead, he thinks about Claude. The shift is easy, habitual.
Then, he considers the fact that Claude might need suggestions on what to do while they wait, and yeah, that'll push everything else into the background, thanks. The taste of his climax seemingly magnifies on the back of his tongue, against the roof of his mouth. Anakin's cheeks redden slightly as he looks him over, his cock hardening the rest of the way without any further prompting. It's almost ridiculous, really, how hot he gets for the other man, how quickly. Then again, it's all physical, isn't it? Sex. Love.
So of course, there's a natural, physical outlet. It's a logical conclusion that doesn't come as easily to him as he thinks it should; he's had that thought more than once the past week, that maybe he's been thinking about these things in the wrong way. It's an odd idea that he can't quite seem to hold onto for long enough to properly examine but that's how many things go in Anakin's life so he simply lets it be. It'll come back or it won't. It's just a thought, nothing important. ]
You did promise some prep, from what I recall.
[ He doesn't actually have any idea as to what that might imply but his cock certainly isn't being even slightly critical. He glances down at it, raising one eyebrow at the way it's straining against his abdomen, the tip a little flushed, even. ]
I'm obviously all for whatever you were thinking.
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He kisses Anakin's cheek softly and sits up, stretching languidly on the way before turning his head enough to look down at Anakin over his shoulder. There's a heavy weight between his legs now. Heavy, hard. He could just take him, but the mere thought of it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue and he feels almost physically ill, so Claude knows it can't - and shouldn't, more importantly - be like that. He wants Anakin to enjoy it. As much as Claude can already tell, he's gonna enjoy it. He's gonna. Because Anakin will let him.
He blinks. Smiles. ]
Been wanting to lick you open ever since you talked about fucking yourself. [ And when Claude says he's been thinking about it, it's more like he's been repeatedly jerking off to the idea of rimming the other man. He's done it a few times, after Rainier, because Rainier would never let him, but even that feels like a kind of first. Like this. Between them. ] If you're for that as well, what about rolling over on your stomach?
[ Only then does Claude turn around fully, facing Anakin once more, waiting patiently for him to make his own decisions. He's been informed. If he gets consent now, he's getting it all, more or less.
His cock feels heavy. His body feels heavy. His mind's clear. He wants, kriff, he wants so much to make it good for him. ]
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Anakin stares at the skylight, seeing absolutely nothing beyond it. Lick you open? What - he wants to lick him? Lick him where? Maybe it's just a phrase, some way to describe a sexual activity that he doesn't know about because sexual education in the Temple, in his case, can be summed up by Obi-Wan leaving five, heavy books on his bed with a note to ask if you have further questions which, obviously, no, no questions, ever.
Regardless, he turns onto his stomach quickly, his cock pressed against the mattress like this. He shifts his hips a little, the slight friction making his toes curl. ]
What do you mean, anyway? Lick what?
[ He spreads his legs a little, propping his chin onto his elbow and glancing sideways at Claude, curious. It's not that he didn't do anything with Padmé, obviously, they were married - but they didn't do many different things and that was perfectly fine by him, it's not like he was waiting for something incredible to happen when she was right there, filling up his entire world. It doesn't surprise him, how she's come to take up such a comparatively small part now - she left him, after all. That's that.
The point is, he doesn't know anything; it's a good thing, then, that Claude seems to know... well. A lot more. ]
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Your ass.
[ It's said in between kisses, lips brushing over vertebrae and protruding ribcage, the back of him. Mm. He doesn't know, he has to remind himself. Anakin hasn't tried this before. Be forthcoming, be honest. ]
I'm going to put my mouth to your asshole and lick the rim with my tongue. Maybe push inside a bit, if you're okay with that. Can do it with my fingers instead, if you'd rather.
[ He speaks calmly and softly, voice lowered enough to put some edge to words like asshole and rim and tongue, just to stay in the mood. Stopping right above Anakin's ass, the curve of it beckoning at him, but kriff, he needs to be sure, he needs not to push, he needs to wait, he needs to...
His breathing sounds uneven and laboured. His cock is straining. ]
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Then, well, Claude tells him - oh. His. Oh.
Oh.
He blinks, staring at the headboard of the bed for a couple of seconds. He nearly forgets to breathe and then, Claude continues and he's kissing his way downwards because he wants to - God, the - the way he says that, the quality of his voice -- ]
Stop. I mean, stop talking.
[ It comes out embarrassingly close to a whine but Force, he's two seconds away from coming all over himself. He shifts uselessly, his hard cock caught between his body and the bed and every movement he makes means friction. Breathing out slowly and closing his eyes, he forces himself to be still, instead. It's a struggle because of course it is. ]
Or don't. I - [ A small, breathy chuckle. ] - how fast do you want me to come?
[ Yes, it means. He - that sounds like something he'd very much like to try. It's like oral sex, maybe, only penetrative in the opposite way, right? Not unlike eating out a girl. He blushes a little at the thought and reaches up absently with his metal hand, picking at the strands currently sticking to his forehead. His mind supplies him with the happy concept of Claude's tongue, wet and hard, slipping past his rim, of what it'll feel like, and immediately, his cock actually leaks. He groans, shifting beneath Claude again, despite his best efforts. ]
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His own cock feeling achingly hard where it's bouncing against his stomach, Claude settles down between Anakin's spread legs, knees bent and taking his weight, his upper body crouching in over Anakin's ass, the delve of the cleft, buttocks rising. Kriff. Kriff, he just wanna eat him out. He wants to hear him whine for it, all the sounds Anakin makes when you're pleasuring him, he wants that. Feel his ass work around his tongue, twitching under his lips. He says, voice soft: ]
We'd just wait it out, if you did.
[ With that, Claude reaches down and gives his own cock a squeeze, stay, it means, before spreading his fingers, all ten of them, a hand on each ass cheek, over Anakin's buttocks and spreading him open, the heavy scent of musk and sweat and their first round settling in his nostrils so his cock's suddenly fighting to do just that. He might die, he might kill himself like this. What a way to go.
His first instinct, as soon as he's pressed his whole head in between Anakin's buttocks, the pressure of his body around him maddening, is to reach down and close his fingers around his cock instead, keep him tethered. But he doesn't, Rainier used to do it to him, to make sure he didn't come before he wanted him to, and like he's just told Anakin... It doesn't matter if he comes fast or slow, the other man's twenty-two, they'll wait five minutes max and be ready to go again. It doesn't have to be like that.
It doesn't.
So, instead he lets a heavy dripple of spit slide down over Anakin's puckered hole, feeling the wetness against his lips as he closes them over the rim of his asshole, just giving Anakin a moment to get used to the sensation, feel the sensation of his lips tightening, light suction, tongue tip coming out and following the shape of his asshole a couple of times. ]
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And just in time, too. ]
Ah - Claude, oh my...
[ He bites his lower lip, his breathing uneven and shaky. His arsehole twitches at the feel of Claude's spit, dripping down between his buttocks and then, moments later, the heat of his breath and his lips, closing over the rim. And - suction. Suction. With a gasp, he clenches up completely by instinct and stills, taking a second to breath a little slower, focusing as much as he can on relaxing his muscles. It's just - oh, that's sensitive, that's - and how many nerves does a person have down there, anyway? His cock is hard and throbbing between his fingers and it takes every ounce of Anakin's willpower not to stroke himself. His balls feel achingly tight.
On another slow exhalation, he manages to relax fully. His mental shields, too, slip a fraction and the air around them seemingly warms slightly, adding to the heavy sense of arousal already hanging in the room. ]
Sorry, it's a lot. [ His voice is light, borderline-trembling. ] Please, keep going.
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He draws back only a little, just to give Anakin the opportunity to gather his wits, his composure, watching the way his asshole clenches, the rim twitching and his own cock could use a metal hand right about now, kriff. Claude watches him halfway in a daze, licking his lips and tasting nothing but him, the dark, heavy musk of his ass, his own flavour on top of it, like a gentler afternote.
Oh, oh. He licks his lips, again and again and again.
Claude has rimmed people before. A few times. But it was never like this, it was never this vulnerable and this arousing, it was just something he did to get inside when he couldn't - wouldn't - fuck them with his cock. It was closeness, in lieu of anal. Now everything is sizzling hot around them, it's not just the sensation of arousal, it's a physical heat, like the air is catching fire. He breathes, hard, fast, and runs one hand, flat and sweaty up to Anakin's tailbone, curving his palm over that point, holding him. Not down, just... holding him, stroking him, letting him feel him there. I'm here, I won't leave you behind.
Okay, he whispers right before diving in again, flattening his whole tongue over Anakin's asshole, licking his rim in broad strokes this time, bigger, harder, feeling how he's relaxed and is opening up, little by little.
Then, he moans, his other hand digging in to Anakin's left buttock, keeping him open as he starts interchangeably sucking on his rim and firmly stroking him with his tongue. ]
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Yes.
So he's been told.
Now, he gasps and pushes his forehead against his other arm, spreading his legs because he wants to, he wants Claude all the way inside of him. The other man moans, fingers digging into Anakin's skin, while he alternates between sucking on his rim and stroking it. The sensation is almost maddening - wetness, softness, a near-constant sense of pressure, teasing but even, steady - and within long, his gasps have become moans, higher than he'd ever admit to, his hips shifting beneath Claude as he pushes back against him, against his tongue. ]
I'm - oh, it's - I'm gonna...
[ Come, he can't say, because in that moment, his body tightens, his arsehole clenching beneath Claude's mouth, and then he comes, hard and fast, spurting up against his own stomach, against the sheets. He swallows his own sounds mostly by accident, his breathing coming out harsh and jagged, as he ruts against the mattress, riding out his climax. His mind feels deliciously blank, all thoughts drowned out by the rush of pleasure surging through him.
He manages to free his metal hand from underneath his body, letting it flop bonelessly against the bed.
Then, he just lies there, breathing raggedly, his arse feeling wet and tingling, still. ]
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Groaning as Anakin finally gives himself over completely, his voice breaking on the last word as his asshole actively convulses against Claude's tongue and Claude has to reach down and grab his own cock now, trying not to think of Rainier while doing it, holding himself back forcefully, tightening until it hurts, not yet, not yet, not yet. And while Anakin rides his orgasm, Claude slowly eases his stimulation down, until it's just soft lapping at his ass, twitching beneath his ministrations. Everything smells like Anakin like this, everything feels like Anakin, everything is Anakin. Everything is...
He blinks back tears, releasing himself, his cock throbbing still, and sits up slowly, his curls clinging to his forehead and he reaches up to push them back, covering his mouth with the inside of his arm as he does so, in case Anakin isn't that interested in getting ass breath in his face. Like that, Claude crawls up along his back, stays on top of him, lets him feel his hard he is for him still, how he's had to fight a brave battle not to follow him right over the edge. Eases down on top of him, cheek against the nape of his neck, they've got hair everywhere. ]
You okay? You good?
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Better than good.
[ He feels Claude against him, heavy and warm over his back, and while that's very nice, it's also a little hard to get at his mouth from this angle. Shifting carefully, he slips out from underneath the other man just enough to turn onto his side, then his back, bringing them face to face instead. He can smell himself along with Claude and it feels like sex, magnified, his belly tightening again, wanting. He'll be hard again in a matter of minutes. Reaching up, he nudges Claude's arm away from his mouth, leans in and kisses him, not particularly deeply or hard. Just easily, like they belong like this, lips to lips or in whichever way they'd fancy at any time. It's easy, the two of them.
For once, something is.
Claude is rock-hard against his thigh and Anakin thinks about his cock going inside him - oh - and immediately, that's precisely what he wants. Provided the other man's still up for it. He breaks the kiss, Claude's lips glistening and soft in his wake. He looks at him, his own gaze dark from arousal, still, but calm. ]
Do you still want to have me?
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At Anakin's question, he sighs slightly, not from irritation or discomfort, though, honestly, his cock is killing him, but from relief. Just exhaling to feel his body relaxing. He reaches up to run his hand over Anakin's hip, protruding hipbone, strong upper thigh. He strokes it slowly. Sweaty skin against sweaty skin.
Does he still want to have him? ]
Yes.
[ Claude doesn't think he's wanted anything so much in his entire life, and his life goal is peace in the galaxy and equality between the beings living there. He knows about wanting. This is different, this is a physical ache to have, to possess, to take.
It scares him a little. ]
But you'll be a bit hypersensitive now. I'm not sure -- [ A pause. No, don't pin it on Anakin. Never pin it on Anakin. ] I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt you.
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But for now, they'll settle with this, with Claude who does want to have him, even though something about it scares him.
Gaze softening, Anakin slips his flesh hand around him, flattening his palm between his shoulder blades. He can feel him breathing like that, the rise and fall of his upper body. Moving slowly, he lifts one leg up and bends it, curling it across Claude's lower back and thrusting upwards, feeling the other man's hard cock sliding over his own, skin against skin. It's nothing particularly overwhelming, just touch and that slight sense of friction. He takes Claude's hand, metal fingers closing around his wrist, and gives it a slight tug. ]
You won't if you start slow.
[ He leans his forehead against Claude's. His voice sounds less shaky now, his breathing more even. ]
We can help each other.
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But Anakin wraps himself around him, one arm around his shoulders, a leg around his waist, pulling him in until they're rubbing up against each other, front against front, pelvis against pelvis, cock against cock and Claude sucks in a sharp breath, looking into Anakin's face, staring practically, as he pushes their foreheads against one another, their eyes on perfect level, perfectly even, perfectly equal.
It won't be Claude's cock that did that to him. It would be Claude, and Claude would never... He would never.
Start slow, Anakin reminds him and Claude nods, kissing his brow, right where he carries the scar across his right eyebrow. When he draws back, he lifts his right hand to his mouth and sucks his index and middle fingers into his mouth, slicking them up good before reaching down between them, tracing his wet fingertips over one of Anakin's buttocks, until he can reach far enough back to trace his loosened asshole, feel how he's still open and quivering.
He won't hurt him. He quite simply refuses to do it. This time, at least, it's his decision to make. ]
How do you like this?
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Anyway.
Shivering a little, he breathes out slowly at the first feel of fingertips against his arsehole. Claude's right - he's overly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm and he's instantly grateful for the other man's slow pacing, the way he simply traces the rim, feeling him out. He nods, kissing a trail down the side of Claude's cheek. ]
It's good. Keep going.
[ He tries to thrust up against the other man's fingers and manages a passable move - from this angle, he needs to bend a good amount in his waist but happily, Anakin is flexible enough to do somersaults across a shooting tank in the midst of an active battle field and this, in comparison, is nothing. It's just... enjoyable. Definitely enjoyable. Smiling against the side of Claude's face, he leans in and kisses his neck, mouthing over the soft skin, finding the beat of his pulse and sucking at it. ]
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But he can do it, he can keep it together, for Anakin's sake, so he gets the full experience, all of it, all of it, all that's good and close and hot. He swallows and nods, his chin slipping into Anakin's hair, the mess of it on his head. Listening to his own breathing rattling out of him, he shifts on his knees and eases himself off the other man enough to allow for him to move his arm.
Then, he pushes his fingers together and carefully, slowly, gently probes at Anakin's opening, feels how tight he is, like whatever he used back then's the first and only thing to have breached him. The thought makes Claude absolutely hazy from arousal. Anakin is not only his first, he's Anakin's first, too. They're each other's. He exhales, forces himself to. Forces himself to breathe. ]
It's gonna be a little tight. Tell me -- [ A hitch in his voice as he angles his fingers and pushes in, to the first knuckles, both of them, just to give the Jedi the full feeling of width without going deep. And so, Claude tries again. ] -- tell me if it hurts.
[ Experimentally, he withdraws his fingers again until they're almost slipping out, then pushes in, not deeper, but wider, parting his fingers slightly inside Anakin. ]
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He's never felt anything like it. It feels deeply intimate, so much that he almost can't breathe for it and he blinks. Impulsively, he curls one arm around Claude's neck and pulls him in a little, enough to press his forehead against his shoulder briefly. He shuts his eyes. Breathes deeply, then pulls back, lips gliding over Claude's earlobe, along the edge of his chin. ]
It's - it's nice. You are.
[ His voice is dark and rough, syllables trembling. He focuses on Claude again, on the feel of him, inside, outside - and there it is, yes, that note of tension and he smiles, warmth spreading in his chest. He's known no one like Claude, ever. ]
Don't be afraid. It's fine, you won't hurt me.
[ He bears down slightly on Claude's fingers, bringing them in deeper, feeling that stretch, delicious and sharp, perfect. ]
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About to withdraw his fingers and maybe rub at the other man's rim some more, loosen him up a bit first, preparing him, Anakin simply -- decides for himself, bearing down on them enough to push them further inside, until Claude's fingers are buried to the knuckles in his ass. It's so hot and tight and his cock is going in there, how did Rainier ever make room...? He pushes the thought aside, just as Anakin seems to touch down on the thing hanging between them. Don't be afraid, he says, sounding dark and rough and soft and gentle at the same time. They're touching everywhere and Claude has never had anything like this, he's never had anyone like him. Amazing Anakin. Breathing deep through his nose, he angles his head enough to run his mouth over Anakin's jawline, the roundness of his cheek until he finds his mouth, blindly, kissing him deeply. Soft tongue. Warmth. Heat. The tight cavity of it. Claude wants in. He wants in him.
Then, he starts pulling out his fingers, feeling the slide and making in pleasantly slow so Anakin will feel it, too, that stretch and all the nerve endings and the friction of skin against the sides of his asshole. Just thinking about it is making Claude feel dizzy from want. Does he still want him?
If Anakin even has to ask, he's doing something wrong.
Groaning loudly, he starts a slow fucking motion, burying into him in intervals, filling him out completely, feeling his ass stretch and give and accomodate, because it can take so much more. Anakin can take so much more. He's been sent to war. He's a Jedi. He knows Claude is afraid. Of hurting him, only that.
As he pulls out of the kiss, he's gasping, pressing his forehead to Anakin's and staring into his face, almost desperately. His own cock is mostly just hurting at this point, throbbing and leaking precum everywhere. ]
Gonna push a third in now. After that, a fourth. I'm big, it'll still stretch...
[ Like that, he aligns his ring finger with the others and on the next instroke, pushes it past Anakin's already stretching rim. Slow glide. Give him time. But Anakin has already shown, if he wants it, he'll take it for himself. He'll take that and more. ]
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I - oh...
[ He breathes in sharply as Claude adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely noticeable now, not painful but undeniable, his mind incapable of focusing on anything else. When he accidentally tightens up around Claude's fingers, his eyes actually widen from the sudden, bright spark of pain - oh, so that's what not to do, got it. He breathes out. Relaxes. The pain disappears. ]
You could skip that, if you want. Think I'm getting the hang of it.
[ They're gonna need slick, though, whether or not Claude wants to skip ahead. He can feel the other man's fingers getting a little dry and that'll get awkward, at length. Closing his eyes, he does that thing that Obi-Wan would chastise him for doing and lifts the small bottle of lube from the bedside table. It floats over them, ending up by Claude's free hand as Anakin runs his metal fingers through his curls, taking care not to get any strands caught in the machinery. Padmé has long hair. He's an expert. ]
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At this point, his fingers are drying up and they shouldn't, it'll get uncomfortable very quickly. About to cuss and lean over for the lube on the bedside table, Anakin... apparently gets there first, because the bottle floats through the air, landing neatly next to his free hand and Claude takes a second to stare, thinking Force and Force user, and then he smiles, leaning in to kiss Anakin on the nose before unscrewing the bottle one-handedly, his fingers getting covered in the cool, thick lube. ]
Good for us. Bad for us is, I'm not. Give me a moment, okay?
[ Breathing fast and desperate now, Claude withdraws his fingers from Anakin's ass, smears them all up in lube too, before pushing the little finger in against the rest and starting the painstaking process of inching most of his kriffing hand past Anakin's swollen, open rim, fucking into him in slow, small wriggling motions.
He gives.
He kriffing gives. His ass opening up around Claude's fingers gradually, a bit stubbornly, too. Like Anakin. Claude is panting. With his other hand, also still covered in lube, he reaches down finally and grabs his cock at the base, squeezing once before slowly slicking himself up.
It's almost enough to make him go cross-eyed. He meets Anakin's gaze. ]
I need to go, Anakin. I'm so hard for you.
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Anakin has lived with secrets for many, many years. And as opposed to his name, his mind, his emotions - those secrets own him, in ways that he can never seem to get around.
It's nice, this. The opposite. ]
I know.
[ He runs his metal hand down the back of Claude's neck. The sensors tell him smooth and damp - the warmth doesn't translate quite so well but that hardly matters when he's got the other man's fingers buried in his body. He shifts, keeping his left leg slung around Claude's lower back, holding on that way and staying open to him simultaneously. He cranes his neck upwards, his abdominal muscles flexing as he pulls himself closer, speaking against the shell of Claude's ear: ]
Looking forward to it. [ A hot exhalation against the other man's skin. ] Go in all the way, if you can. I haven't tried that before.
[ Because honestly, once he'd managed about two inches of that vegetable, he'd decided that he didn't need any further training, thanks. ]
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Swallowing once, he leans into the other man's touch, leans in against his face and kisses him again, lighter this time, to allow him to breathe and speak and be loud in whatever way he wants, while simultaneously he starts pressing inwards, until he feels the rim fit tightly over the tip of his cock and he's pushing against the resistance, trying to be slow, trying to be careful, and all he can think is, kriff, he's tight, he's tight and hot and I gotta go all the way, I gotta go there, he wants me to, he wants, I want...
Groaning almost pitifully, Claude draws back from Anakin's mouth enough to breathe wet and hot against his lips, staring into his face as he slowly sinks past the rim of his asshole, into the heat of him, into the depths, that go on and swallow him up.
He doesn't stop. He goes slow and he is careful, but he doesn't. Stop. Heaving for breath, Claude feels himself in Anakin to the hilt. All of him pushed into the heat of his body. He almost feels like crying. The sound he makes is somewhere between a sob and a whimper. After a trembling, tearful second, he manages, voice a whisper, hoarse, raw. ]
How's that?
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Aah!
[ It comes out maybe slightly startled - not because Claude's moving particularly fast but because he does follow instructions pretty well and Anakin said, all the way and all the way, it kriffing is. The other man sinks into him to the base, slowly, carefully. Anakin swallows his next sounds, mostly to close his mouth or he'll start drooling; the feeling is completely overpowering and he can't think for it, all he can think is oh and he's so full, he's bursting and Claude is everywhere -- ]
Please.
[ His voice, not unlike Claude's, is trembling. The other man sounds like he's on the verge of tears and Anakin gets him, he really does. Keeping himself relaxed, he pulls Claude down towards him, guiding his forehead to his shoulder, metal fingers stroking through his hair slowly. He slips his flesh hand between them, running over Claude's ribs, his stomach. Then, he finds his own cock further down between them and sneaks his fingers around it. It's half-hard. He hasn't really been considering it much. ]
You're perfect. Give me what you got, Claude, come on.
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Breathing raggedly, he braces himself on both sides of Anakin's shoulders, keeping hoisted over him and looking down at him while he slowly pulls out once more, feeling almost lost when not being inside Anakin's body, like the rest of the world, Coruscant, Paris, the galaxy at large, are foreign elements in comparison. The friction makes his whole body tighten up and it feels unbelievably natural to just... push in again, ease himself in all the way, then pull out, push in. The first thrust is a rattling, startling thing, then Claude does as Anakin asks of him. He gives it to him, he gives him every deep-seated, smooth thrust, listening to himself breathe funny, feeling his whole body respond, the tingling no longer only in his crotch, but in his thighs, his abdomen, his back, across his face. He more or less throws his forehead down upon Anakin's chest, getting a good look at his half-hard cock like that, losing some rigidity the way it does during intense prep. ]
You are. You are, you are, you are...
[ And because he wants Anakin to feel all the things he is, Claude slowly, with a push of his arms, hoists himself over him again to be able to get the angling right, on the next instroke positioning himself better for it and knowing, knowing it'll be good. It's good between them. It's good here.
He drags himself over Anakin's prostate, not like an apology or a reward, but like a gift. Mine. ]
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