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You're not sure when he actually arrived, but arrive he did. Knocked on the door, clad head to toe in solid black, his boots clicking semi-impatiently on the concrete outside your door.

"Um, Ben, I didn't know you were coming… "

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the slight shadow of a goatee partially obscuring his face, takes a final look around and steps inside, brushing by the lightswitch to the porch light. "I hadn't planned on it, but I was on the way home and thought it'd be nice to see you."

You suppress the little peal of joy. It's been months since you've seen him, and every damn second has felt like a year to you. You've missed him, longed for his touch, desired to hear his musical voice tell you the tales of the hero he had become.

And you've forgotten how completely and utterly attractive he is. The renewed sight of him alights a fire somewhere in your abdomen, its warmth radiating into your smile. "Well, we're honoured of course. Care for something to drink, General, sir?"

His eyes narrow at you using the title, and you can see he's about to correct you but he stops himself and shrugs. "Tea, or ale if you have it."

"Now there's a set of choices if I ever heard them. Cre-tal okay?"

His nose wrinkles as he shrugs off the heavy black coat, laying it across the couch. "That swamp water? I guess if that's all you have… "

Cracking open the brown bottle and taking it over to him, you wander from the kitchen with a slight swing in your step. "Sorry, maybe if you had warned me ahead of time I could have gone shopping for you."

"I didn't realize I'd be on this side of the galaxy with some free time… "

"Of course, if you had called ahead," you murmur, wedging yourself next to him, now able to feel the warmth coming from his body, "I might have had a few other things prepared."

His aqua blue eyes avert and regard you curiously. "Oh?"

"Oh, you're filthy and sweaty! And come to mention it, not smelling so sweet… "

Obi-Wan sips from the bottle and arches an eyebrow. "What 'other things?'"

You ignore him, tugging at the tunic clinging to his torso. "You'd think black would show dirt easier."

"What 'other things?'"

"Means the skin underneath will need a good scrubbing-"

Setting the Cre-tal down suddenly, he sets a strong hand on your shoulder and uses the other to cup your jaw so he can turn your head. Looking you straight in the eyes, he repeats slowly "What… 'other… things?'"

You grin and shrug, enjoying his touch. "Well, I still haven't replaced the nightie and panties you tore, which were good Alderaan silk may I remind you, and I would have put fresh bed sheets on, and maybe chilled something other than the 'swamp water' you've got there in your hands, amongst other things."

The serious gaze softens, the lips curling lightly as memories flit across his memory. Sliding the hand at your shoulder up to your neck, cradling the back of your head in his slightly callused palm, he pulls you across his lap, drawing your face to his, taking your lips in a searing, heated kiss. Nearly falling against his chest, your hand flying out to find something sturdy, you hook fingernails into the arm of the upholstered couch, as you find his tongue pushing past your lips, penetrating your mouth.

The hand dug into the couch is all that's keeping you from not turning into moldable warm goo.

At some point, he's begun to bend you down so the pair of you are stretched across the couch, and as he's breaking away from the initial kiss to take a fresh grip of your lower lip, you inhale sharply and cough involuntarily right in his face.

"What?"

Trying to not shudder at the voice tickling your eardrums, you poke at his chest with a single finger. "You, sir, need to bathe. Maker, Kenobi, did you just spend the last three days stuck with unkempt brigands in a forest?"

He sighs, and gives you a tired look. "Something like that. Where's your shower?"

Realizing that he's partially laying between your legs, your left calf dangling ineffectually over the couch edge, you consider keeping him where he is, but quickly decide otherwise.

Even with this delicious, edible, walking fuck toy that makes chocolate seem boring, there's a line that shouldn't be crossed.

You point at the linen closet. "Towels are in there, feel free to use my stuff, as long as you don't mind girly soap."

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at you. "You're hardly 'girly.'"

"Thanks, now g-- ?!"

Your last word is cut off by a shocked gasp as he grabs you by the wrist and tugs you off the couch. Hauling you wordlessly into the bathroom with him, he drapes the towel over your shoulder and begins to strip down in front of your surprised eyes. "What the hell are you doing, Ben?"

He grins, the glint in his eye reminiscent of the man he used to be, the one uncoloured by the grime of darker days. "Taking a shower," he says simply.

You blink for a few moments, and then your jaw falls slightly slack as he casually strips the tunic off and tosses it into a corner, exposing his well muscled chest and the light sprinkling of off blonde hairs. Catching the expression on your face, he chuckles mildly, and turns around, his bare back to you.

"Hey, if I'm getting a show I damn well expect the full glory."

He looks over his shoulder, giving you a full view of his profile. "I thought I was taking a shower, not putting on a show." The smile is enough to make you agreeable. But still… "Ben… "

~Hush.~ And without further interruption, he, intentionally slow, unhooks the fly from its clasp and slides the tight fitting pants down, sliding the fabric past his hips and firm buttocks, rolling them down past the well defined thighs and calves.

It goes without saying that your jaw is on the floor. It doesn't matter that you've seen -everything- of him before, he's just, just-

Gorgeous.

Obi-Wan flings the now freed pants to the corner with the rest of the shed clothes and, without turning to you, steps in front of the shower stall, turning on the water and testing it as it becomes increasingly warmer. You can see the lines of muscle in his back flexing with his every move, and the few steps he took to stand where he is now fans the flame inside you that had lit when he first walked into your place.

Crossing your arms, drinking in the view before you, unabashedly admiring that naked and deliciously tempting ass, you watch him step over the raised edge and throw his head back as the first drops pound down over his bare flesh, the steam rising from the steady stream of water.

"Luv."

You shake your head, pulling out of the reverie. "Yes?"

"Come here."

You blink at him. "But I'm dressed, and this thing can't just be flung off like a tunic."

His is an unwavering, hormone inducing tone. "I don't care."

"Um," you manage. Such a wordsmith when presented with this kind of invitation, huh? Shrugging off the outer vest and fighting with the clasp of the jumper you wear for work, you find yourself being dragged into the water by what only can be the Force, Obi-Wan's wet body immediately pinning you to the wall of the shower as soon as you're close enough.

The water, much hotter than you thought it was, drenches you, sticking the clothes to your body, your hair blanketing down at your ears. The naked man before you, or rather on top of you, crushes his body against yours, his hips grinding against yours as he devours your mouth possessively, his hands wandering behind your back to the stubborn clasp.

With a twist of fingers, the drenched, clinging jumper is released from its binding and you use your hands to shove it off, sliding it off shoulders and past breasts, Obi-Wan's hands hooking on the fabric and pushing it down past your waist and hips, exposing the simple tunic that you wear underneath, the usual off white colour a slightly see-thru beige just brushing the edges of your thighs.

The impeding cloth out of the way, his hands run up your thighs, hooking just under your ass, settling a grip as he hefts you off your feet and against the tile wall. One hand finds the water soaked panties clinging to you, and with a single yank, rips them free, the tips of his fingers rubbing against the edges of your nether flesh.

With a murmured gasp, you manage, "You'll pay for that, Kenobi." Breaking away from the line of ardour borne kisses across your neck he was making, he looks up at you. "Promises, promises."

Your response is cut off as the hand that brushed over you settles there, his fingers rubbing across wet folds, pressing intermittently harder against your clit, sending the delightful waves up your spine. Feeling a long pent up climax rise and threaten to crest over, you gasp, moving against his hand, the water falling around the both of you making everything slippery.

Removing his hand briefly, using his other hand to pin you against the shower wall, one of your legs sliding up and around his waist, you feel his hips come in hard contact with yours again, and you can fell all too well exactly where this is leading. Rubbing against your clit and inner thigh with a need you understand very well is the tip of his cock, undeniably hard and demanding.

You slide your other leg around his waist, your hands hooking behind his neck as one of his hands slip under the wet tunic, finding and possessing a taut nipple between strong fingers. He buries his face in your neck, the mild facial hair tickling exquisitely across your soft throat flesh, his attentions intensifying as a moan slips easily over your lips. His other hand returns briefly to its place between your legs, and without preamble, grasps the length of his own erect shaft, rubbing the tip pointedly across your folds before deftly penetrating you with a single upward movement.

You gasp, accidentally banging your head against the tile as your head falls back, your fingernails tightening on his back as he begins to thrust hard inside you. He's being rough, insistent, shoving you further back against the tile… not the slow deliberate lovemaking he had graced you with on his last visit.

Not that you wanted slow anyways.

His lips find yours again, crushing his mouth against yours as he drives his tongue deep into your mouth, devouring you from the inside out. The hair on his chin scrapes across your cheek, one of his hands tangling in your hair as he arches your head to meet his at a different angle, nearly cutting off all your air, not that you notice. Shifting a leg to brace himself against a patch of slick tile, he angles his hips slightly, nearly withdrawing fully and pushing back to the hilt with a singe move, jarring your spine in a delightful wash of mild pain. He groans into your mouth, a slight shudder wracking his body, his movements slightly erratic as his much needed and rough earned release rises quickly to the surface.

Moving as much as you can while pinned up against the wall, shifting against the length of his shaft as it slides up and back over sensitive inner wall muscles, your hands slide up from his back to wrap tightly around his neck, your lips falling away from his as you gasp for breath, short little cries of your own building climax emanating from your vocal chords.

With a half grunt and moan, Obi-Wan thrusts upward a single, powerful time, his eyes falling shut as he comes, the hot fluid pouring into you, the involuntary shudder of muscle pushing you over the edge, a scream tearing from your throat as the sweet, vicious waves send you sailing, still riding him, the presence of the hot, pounding water a mere background distraction.

Slowing his own movements, watching you with intense blue-green eyes, his hands run over your body in appreciative awe. Beginning to breathe again in a manner resembling normality, you half open your eyes and lean forward to place feathery kisses on his face. The seriousness that marked his face when he first arrived is utterly gone as he smiles at you. Shaking his head to keep the water from trailing from his forehead right into his eyes, he says, "I thought I was too stinky."

"Oh, well," you lick your lips and let a hand work down his back, savouring the landscape at your fingertips, "you were, and I did tell you to take a shower… "

"And… ?"

A laugh escapes you before you take the opportunity to lick the tip of his nose with your tongue. "Now I need one too. Wanna wash my back?"

One of his hands slides down to wrap around your waist. "I'll do far more than that… "

"Promises, promises."