Chapter Text
Sun was already rising when Obi-Wan came back to his room, behind the Galaxy Club.
He was still a little drunk after the long night shift and the glacial air coming from his kitchen window (it was so old and in such a state that Obi-Wan was surprised it hadn't fell off completely yet) was literally freezing his bare legs.
To prevent hypothermia, the bearded young man put on a pair of stained pajama pants from the pile of dirty clothes he had to bring to the laundry down the street, before working with shaky hands to provide with a hot coffee.
He wasn't hungry at all, but he forced himself to arrange scrambled eggs (that seemed to be expired two days before) with bacon, starting to think he had to visit the supermarket more often.
Strange life had Obi-Wan: he did really well in high school (even excelling in sports and arts) then majored in Religious Studies, following his dad on the path of being a pastor. However, after two years caring for the dear souls in a Methodist church, he fell in love with a Catholic priest. Such a scandal brought them to split apart and Obi-Wan was forced to leave the church and even the town where he was born.
No one actually knew how and why he took refuge at the Galaxy Club, serving drinks as a bartender, but he did a good job though.
The bearded man finally sat on his favorite chair, the best balanced in the whole room, and consumed his breakfast in silence.
He took two aspirins, then tried to sip his burning black coffee, but someone was knocking at his door.
“Yeah, yeah, 'm coming”, he groaned.
Right in front of his entrance door, there stood Anakin Skywalker.
His best friend, a fucking pain in the ass. Now steadily shivering in the cold air of december, dressed up with just a pair of leather pants and two odd socks.
“ 'twas about damn time! Fuck, let me come in, I'm freezing!”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, watching his friend sliding inside and becoming one with the old wool blanket on the couch.
“Two things, Ani. One: why aren't you home? Two: why are you half naked?”
Anakin let out a dramatic sigh.
“One: I couldn't find my fucking keys. They weren't where I left them, so I tried and tried but, poof!, no keys anywhere. Two: someone stole my leather jacket and my Rage Agaisnt The Machine t-shirt too.”
The older man laughed.
“Jeez, man, I guess things cannot get worse!”
Strange life had Anakin Skywalker too: born in Las Vegas, first son of a seventeen years old girl who worked in one of the biggest casinos of the city, he left home shortly after his graduation. He couldn't stand seeing his mum getting more and more addicted to vodka, wasting her own life on dumb boyfriends. He came to New York with a backpack, a jacket and a pair of jeans. Then Mace Wimdu hired him as a pole dancer at the Galaxy Club because he was, truth to be said, astonishingly beautiful.
“Trust me, Obi, they can and they will. Murphy's law!”
Obi-Wan shrugged.
“Well, at least you're not alone, dear. Here you are, have some coffee with me.”
Anakin wrapped himself in the blanket like a burrito, then followed his best friend to the kitchen table.
“Shit, I'm starving...”
“And you will, because there's nothing left in the fridge. I had expired eggs for breakfast, I could offer you...hmmm...bread that dates back to the WWI, uncooked pasta, some sugar...oh look! A can of Campbell's tomato soup!”
“I'm wondering if I'm still sane but, yes, I'll have it. Even if it's seven in the morning!”
“It's a quarter to seven, though. And do you remember what we had three days ago as a breakfast? We had a BigMac, sugar. Don't complain about my soup, it's surely healthier.”
The younger man laughed.
Obi-Wan was really happy when it happened, he loved Anakin's powerful bursts of laughter, they truly brightened his days.
Three minutes later, his head was almost getting into the bowl, devouring all the soup mixed with old and gummy discount bread.
“Are you eating in these days, dear? You're literally licking the plate!”
“Mmmmngh, yeah, not that much actually. Been too busy to go to the grocery store.”
“I swear I'm not gonna lecture you, but...you need to eat. I don't want your beautiful body to get all skin and bones!”
Anakin left the empty bowl in the sink with a loud thump.
“It will never happen. I promise I'll do some shopping, after a long sleep. And you're gonna do the same, everything is expired, rotten or incredibly old here! And...did I mention you that I really love when you appreciate my body?”
The older man laughed softly.
“Oh, one may say I don't only appreciate it, but I absolutely love it! So, please, take care of yourself. It's your stunning beauty that provides you a roof over your head, a bunch of pretty clothes and something to eat.”
“Yeah, whatever. Speaking about taking care of ourselves and bullshits...may I have a cigarette? Mine are gone with the keys, my jacket and my t-shirt.”
“Yeah, sure. They're in my pocket...in that jacket there.”
Anakin gracefully crossed the tiny corridor, bringing back a packet of Marlboro Reds and a Bic lighter.
“Really, Obi? A pink lighter? Could you be gayer than this?”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“Sould I remind you who's the one who literally sells his ass, here?”
The boy laughed, while lighting his cigarette and sensually breathing a cloud of light blue smoke out.
“I guess I'm in love with the feeling of something huge in my asshole...”
“Don't act so slutty with me, dear, you know that I don't like mixing work and private life.”
Anakin pouted.
His full lips, Obi-Wan thought, were an explicit invitation to sin and obscenities.
Maybe that was his secret, after all: innocent face, soft and feminine lips, used to dirty talking and quick to laugh. Something that bored, married men, loved very much. Last, but not least, Anakin was completely untamed in bed, Obi-Wan heard...another on of his features that made him so requested by customers at the Galaxy Club.
“Would I sound weird, Obi, if I told you that I want to have sex right now?”
The bearded man let out a loud laugh.
“Are you flirting with me, Anakin? Really? After what...four years? Did someone spanked your butt so hard you completely lost your mind?”
“Oh, come on, you said I'm beautiful! You always say that!”
Obi-Wan furrowed his light brows.
“Sure you are, Anakin. You're the most stunning man I've ever met but, you know, I'm not used to knock up my friends.”
“Consider my offer as a reward for the comfort, the company and everything you did for me in these four years. It's just...I want it. I want to feel someone and it happens that you're here and you're my best friend. So...why not?”
The older man sighed.
“We talked about this, before. We can't----”
His words were abruptly interrupted by Anakin's lips pressing hard and almost painfully on his mouth.
He saw the chance and he took it, the older man guessed.
At the very moment, Obi-Wan thought he was toasted.