YOU KNOW WHAT
do me a 1x3 for 35
OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSS HERE WE GO
It's after 2 AM again. The rest of the ship has long since gone to sleep, save the skeleton crew behind the controls. It's just them, as usual, working on the Gundams none of them can stop tinkering with. It's habit more than desire, at this point: the only routine they know, the only constant to cling to.
Heero thought he'd moved beyond needing to cling to things. It bites that he hasn't, a sting of disappointment. But he works anyway. Across the way, Duo has disappeared inside Deathscythe. Quatre, quieter than usual, has spent his time fiddling with the Zero controls. And Trowa...
Well. Trowa is back to normal now, right? His memories have returned. He's got all the pieces back to put the puzzle together. And now all those nights on the road, those days in Siberia, those hours where Heero thought maybe he'd never be able to move again as his body knit itself painfully back together...they've all come back.
And Heero doesn't know what to do.
In the last moment before disaster, the hour before they'd climbed into Mercurius and Vayeate, when they'd been hiding in plain sight under Oz's nose...that last moment has seared itself into Heero's thoughts. He doesn't think he'll ever forget it. Not the way Trowa had clasped his fingers around Heero's, around the iron bars separating them, the way he'd tightened his hold enough to pinch and sting.
The way he'd leaned in even though he knew they couldn't reach each other through the door, just to whisper, "I'll always come back for you."
He hadn't. Or, rather, Heero hadn't gone back for him. And now, looking at the lines of Trowa's back, he's never felt more ashamed of anything.
Trowa remembers that moment now, right?
He has to remember what it meant...right?
Heero's legs are jerky when he gets them to move. He stumbles across the bay to where Trowa is sitting, a tool in his hand he's not yet bothered to put to use. Trowa's chin pulls up when Heero re-settles in front of him.
Heero doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know why he came over here. All he knows is those nights they slept in the truck, those days where Trowa wordlessly handed him the gun, those early morning hours where Heero's heart thundered traitorously in his chest.
He stares at Trowa, and Trowa stares at him, and it doesn't feel surprising at all when gravity tugs them both forward. Trowa's mouth is warm.
Heero closes his eyes, exhales.
Maybe the others saw; it doesn't matter. Trowa's fingers brush up against Heero's cheek. If they shake, neither of them wish to comment on it.
"I'll always come back for you," Heero whispers.
"I know," Trowa says.
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Size Queen Obi-Wan Kenobi, Top Anakin Skywalker, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Possessive Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker Has a Big Dick, Dirty Talk, Derogatory Language, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dom/sub, Prostate Milking, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Obi-Wan Kenobi Has a Praise Kink, Anakin Skywalker is Not a Jedi, pseudo Master/Padawan relationship, pseudo human/droid sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Rimming
Summary:
Anakin Skywalker is the best droid maker of the galaxy. People from all over go to Tatooine to commission a personalised made droid from him. No droid is the same, as Anakin tries to cater to his customers specificities. Obi-Wan seeks Anakin's expertise to build him a sex droid capable of kriffing his brains out.
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