These Eyes

by Pumpkin (apumpkin@rogers.com)

Archive: M_A

Category: A/Other, Angst

Pairing: Anakin/Bail

Rating: PG-R

Warnings: None

Feedback: Yes, please, on or offlist

Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm

I've felt eyes on me all day, for days now, but when I look up... Oh, there are people looking at me, but never the eyes that are stalking me, boring into me and making me hot. The day passes, as the last five have, and at the end of it I can be sure of nothing that happened but those eyes, eating away at me.

But today, now, as I look up, there he is. A boy, tall and spare, almost coltish in his gauntness, though I can see he will be beautiful when he catches up to his height.

His eyes are blue and deep, his gaze complete.

"Anakin Skywalker," he says, thrusting out his hand with surprising confidence in one so young. His hand is warm, soft but not untouched by labour, there are strange calluses on his palm.

"Bail Organa."

"I know," he says, those blue eyes twinkling, "I've been watching you."

And from this moment on, it seems so inevitable, as if it had happened before and would happen again.

It is his first time; he is responsive and sweet. There is grace and beauty in those long, awkward limbs as they twist with my own, there is pleasure in the drive of his heat against my own.

Afterward, skin glistening with sweat, he shines. His laughter tickles in my mouth; his enthusiasm is contagious. And his eyes... they are like sapphires that glimmer under the jeweller's loop, they are like stars in the sky, watching me.

The morning sun finds us tangled together and he rolls, pinning me down with his want, his need, holding me in place with his eyes as he moves against me. The warm splash of seed against my belly is like the sun's promise and then he is pulling away, leaving me cold and messy in my bed.

I have breakfast ready for him when he comes out of the shower. He's put on his pants, but not his tunic and his eyes laugh at me as mine are caught playing over the taut, wiry muscles of his chest and abdomen. His nipples are hard, flushed with blood and I have to wonder if it is from the heat of his shower, the cold touch of the air, or remembered pleasure.

A knock interrupts our silent gazing and I get the door. Obi-Wan. I had forgotten that Knight Kenobi would be coming today to discuss a visit to Alderaan by a delegation of Jedi, and, I have been hoping, for something more personal as well.

"Good morning, Master." Anakin's voice is soft, respectful, his eyes demurely on the ground as he hastily pulls on his blouse, though not quickly enough to hide the passion mark just above his left nipple.

"Padawan." Obi-Wan's tones are restrained, almost cold and I sit down heavily, burdened by my surprise, my shock at the revelation that Anakin is Obi-Wan's student.

Anakin meets my eyes briefly, a simple flash of blue, knowing, mocking, and then he is looking down again, leaving only the sweet, awkward boy at my table. He flees quickly, with an awkward hug turned bow to me and a deep, respectful bow to his master.

Obi-Wan's eyes are hard when they look at me, impersonal, professional.

What have I done?

End.