How Kenobi Got His Groove Back:Alchemy Dream

A/N: I know you can't have an epilogue without a prologue, but what can I say. I'm avant garde.

Warning: Slash, fluff. Yeah, I said it.

Summary: All it took was a light-hearted quip from Mace Windu to send Obi-Wan Kenobi off the edge and into insecurity. Anakin is fed up with his ex-master's age-related blubbering and is determined to show him exactly how beautiful he is.

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Epilogue

Obi-Wan Kenobi is thirty-six years and seven hours old when he wakes up to Anakin's light snoring, imagining there is no better way to wake up. Looking at the boy through sleepy eyes, he's alight with the sun rays that creep in from the cracks in the curtains, as if the light comes from inside him. As if he's the center of the universe.

And Anakin is all his.

He feels warm and comfortable, especially in the areas which their bodies are directly connected. And there are few that aren't. He brushes his feet against Anakin's, running his heel along his lightly hairy leg against the cool sheets that still smell like 'fresh laundry'. It amazes him how much heat Anakin generates, like snuggling up to a big, drooling puppy.

His eyes finally adjust to the light, and hesitantly, he pushes himself up from the bed to go do the breakfast thing. He pulls on Anakin's discarded sleep pants, yanking them up to his waist to prevent walking on the legs, and begins rummaging through the refrigerator. Maybe eggs, or bacon, or eggs bacon and toast, or pancakes and-

"Oh, my-" he says, his eyes widening in delight.

Or chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

Pulling out a fork, he opens the little brown box and begins hammering into a slice, having to keep from moaning at the richness of the chocolate.

"Master?" Anakin says, stretching with a long quilt wrapped around his shoulders, as he pads into the kitchen, missing the Obi-Warmth. He smiles at the older man wearing his pants that are practically falling off of him, at the way the light touches the long tuft of hair that he habitually pushes behind his ears, curling underneath the delicate lobe. And the freckles. Oh, Force the freckles on his back and shoulder blades. Obi-Wan looks at him, like a deer in the headlights.

"You've caught me, Anakin," he says through a mouthful of cheesecake, holding his fork up in surrender.

"Actually, it sounded pretty good to me, too," Anakin smiles, walking over to the cupboard. He pours two frosty glasses of milk, and picks up the box with the other hand, leaving Obi-Wan in the kitchen.

He quickly follows, waving his fork at Anakin.

"Now wait, that's my cheesecake, let me have it!" he whines, and Anakin laughs.

"Well come get it! I want breakfast in bed."

"Sounds good to me. Not only am I eating cheesecake for breakfast in bed, but I'm also skipping the council meeting this morning." Anakin mock-gasps, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you rebel."

"You know it," Obi-Wan says, scooting under the blankets and closer to Anakin. They share the box in silence until Obi-Wan speaks.

"You know, we are going to have to discuss this sooner or later."

"Why?" Anakin asks, muffled, as he gulps down the milk.

"Because, you see we didn't discuss the whole...you know," he says, referring to Anakin's participation in Obi-Wan's masturbation the other night.

"Ahhh...yes, but you see it worked itself out, Master. You came three times last night before we finally passed out, once under two minutes!" Anakin says cheekily, licking his fork. Obi-Wan blushes and groans.

"Really, you were timing me?"

"What I'm trying to say, is let things work themselves out a little, Obi-Wan. Doesn't this feel right?" Anakin says, nuzzling against him for emphasis. He looks down on Obi-Wan's crown, at the still reddish, beautiful hair that catches glints of sunlight, even making the few grey hairs look silvery and beautiful. He imagines for a moment how beautiful Obi-Wan's hair will look when it turns completely silver. And he grins, deciding that when that day comes, when they're both full of grey hair, he will still be making love to this man all night. But that is in the far off future. Obi-Wan is only thirty-six. Anakin is only twenty. It isn't an age gap, just a completion of sorts. Obi-Wan lays back, pressing his head into the crevice of Anakin's underarm. He smiles as he takes a bite.

"It's all very new, you know?" he says very quietly.

"But it's right."

"Well, more or less," Obi-Wan says, smirking, remembering his 'birthday gift'. "I'm still a little sore, you know?" Anakin chuckles, putting the box and the glasses aside onto the floor. He pulls the quilts up over their heads as they wrap around each other. Planting a soft kiss to his cheek, and nipping at Obi-Wan's ear, he licks the inside a little before moaning a little.

"Yes, but at least it isn't from your joint pain, or your bad back or your neck cramps." Obi-Wan smirks a little against his lips, always feeling a little bit younger in Anakin's arms. Because he isn't really old at all. Age is a state of mind, after all.

"Yes, there is that, isn't there..."

I love you, Anakin.

I love you too, old timer.

And that's how Kenobi got his groove back.

The End.

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