[ The first bite floods his mouth, but once isn't enough, so he sucks. Obi-Wan has been drunk; has been high; poisoned; knocked around the head so hard that his concussion left him confused for days; felt that specific wooziness of too much bloodloss; and still nothing comes close. It isn't just predatory instinct, it isn't just slaking a thirst he hadn't realized was consuming him, but it's the rest of it:
Anakin's body warm and alive in his arms, the way each beat of his heart flushes blood into his mouth, the jolt when his pulse increases, the carefulness of his Force signature lining up with his own — impossibly loud, impossibly warm. A burning sun that has been in his life for fourteen long years. It drives home just how much he can't bear to lose him. A future without Anakin is a future not worth living; an un-Jedi-like thought that has existed in his bones and never been released from it's cage. Suddenly, Obi-Wan reels him in the last few inches, pushing his hand up into Anakin's long hair and leashing it into his knuckles. He bears down, flexing his jaw and burrowing against Anakin's throat, grasping at him hungrily with his body and with the Force. ]
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Anakin's body warm and alive in his arms, the way each beat of his heart flushes blood into his mouth, the jolt when his pulse increases, the carefulness of his Force signature lining up with his own — impossibly loud, impossibly warm. A burning sun that has been in his life for fourteen long years. It drives home just how much he can't bear to lose him. A future without Anakin is a future not worth living; an un-Jedi-like thought that has existed in his bones and never been released from it's cage. Suddenly, Obi-Wan reels him in the last few inches, pushing his hand up into Anakin's long hair and leashing it into his knuckles. He bears down, flexing his jaw and burrowing against Anakin's throat, grasping at him hungrily with his body and with the Force. ]