Work Text:
“You have to do this with me,” Anakin insisted, pushing the box towards Obi-Wan.
“Do I?” Obi-Wan mused.
“You have to because I say so,” Anakin nodded sagely.
Obi-Wan looked down at the box and then back at Anakin. “A gingerbread house though? Why?”
Anakin’s features faltered for a second before returning to something that resembled hopefulness and Obi-Wan immediately regretted asking the question.
“I don’t know, I just want to,” Anakin said, clearly a little self-conscious.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan apologized. “We can build your gingerbread house.”
“Really?” Anakin asked. “I know it’s kinda silly, but-”
“You don’t have to explain,” Obi-Wan promised. “I want to.”
“I was thinking I could put on Christmas music?” Anakin grinned. “And we could make hot chocolate!”
“Perfect,” Obi-Wan said with a nod.
“Good.” Anakin clapped his hands together as if that made their decision final. He turned around and began rifling through the cabinets to find everything he needed for hot chocolate while Obi-Wan took a seat at the kitchen island.
“When did you buy this?” Obi-Wan asked, picking up the box.
Anakin set two mugs on the counter and looked back at Obi-Wan. “Uhhh… I just saw it at the grocery store and it looked like fun.”
“Good to know what you spend your allowance on,” Obi-Wan chuckled.
“I am very responsible, Daddy,” Anakin said stoutly.
“I know,” Obi-Wan agreed with a small laugh.
“Open it,” Anakin pushed, setting a pot on the stove.
Obi-Wan tore open the end of the box and carefully pulled out the tray of gingerbread structures, the candy decorations, and the instructions.
“Do you have frosting?” Obi-Wan asked, reading through the pamphlet.
Anakin stopped and stared, his face falling. “It needs frosting?”
Obi-Wan shook out the box, hoping something else would fall out. “It doesn’t look like it came with any…”
“Fuck,” Anakin muttered under his breath.
“Can we make some?” Obi-Wan offered.
“Yeah, I know,” Anakin grumbled. “I just didn’t want to.”
“You’re an excellent cook, Anakin,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “I’m sure you can do this.”
Apparently, Anakin could not do this.
It was very apparent to Obi-Wan as Anakin huffed and puffed his way through trying to perfect his frosting that was just… not coming together.
“I don’t make a lot of sweets!” Anakin said defensively as he stared at his frosting.
“Let’s just try it as is,” Obi-Wan offered. “It can’t be that bad.”
Anakin looked up from the stream of frosting that was dripping (was frosting supposed to drip? Obi-Wan wondered) from the whisk.
“Should I add more powdered sugar?” Anakin made a grimace and then looked back at the disaster that was his workspace. “I should have followed a recipe,” he grumbled. He picked up what little powdered sugar remained in the bag and dumped it in the bowl.
The effect was negligible.
“Do you want me to run to the grocery store?” Obi-Wan offered.
“No.” Anakin huffed and set the bowl on the counter, looking rather upset. “I know it’s dumb, but I just had this… idea in my head and now it’s all ruined.”
“I’m sure this will work just fine,” Obi-Wan comforted. “It looks more like glue than normal frosting anyway. Maybe we’ll have discovered a better way to make gingerbread houses.”
Anakin gave a half-hearted smile and set the bowl down next to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan sorted the candy into piles and read the instructions out loud as Anakin laid out the bottom piece and tried to get one of the walls to fit in the notches.
“You think it would say on the box if it didn’t have frosting,” Anakin frowned, using a knife to try and spread the frosting on one of the edges of the gingerbread pieces.
Obi-Wan wanted to say that this was working well enough, but as the frosting dripped down the edges, he didn’t actually think that was true anymore. “Maybe it won’t matter,” he offered instead, as Anakin tried to add some of the frosting to a piping bag that had come with the kit.
Anakin gave him a look of unamused disbelief, but went back to carefully trying to apply their “frosting” to the edges.
“You try.” Anakin pushed the bag into Obi-Wan’s hands.
Everything was somehow egregiously sticky when Anakin had only done one edge, but Obi-Wan tried to ignore the fact that his hands were now just as sticky as everything else on the counter. He added another wall to the structure and tried again to spread the frosting, but he was having about as much luck as Anakin was having.
“At least they seem to be holding up on their own,” Obi-Wan said, trying to ease Anakin’s disappointment.
“Yeah,” Anakin snorted a laugh. “If we try this again next year, I’m making sure the kit has frosting in it.”
“Good idea,” Obi-Wan chuckled. He helped Anakin assemble the rest of the house, eating a few candy pieces along the way and somehow his hands getting stickier by the second.
But as they gazed at their final creation, Obi-Wan suddenly burst into laughter as he was suddenly reminded what the frosting resembled.
“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” Anakin laughed with him.
“That’s not-” Obi-Wan let out another small burst of laughter. “I mean, yes, it’s not good, but the frosting looks like cum.” He pointed to the icicles Anakin had tried to create along the rooftop.
Anakin’s mouth dropped open and he covered it with his hands as he laughed loudly. “No! We made a cum cabin!”
“I think we might have,” Obi-Wan mused.
“You have a dirty mind,” Anakin teased. He walked to the sink and thoroughly washed his hands. “Now how am I going to post that to instagram? I can’t exactly caption it as the cum cabin.” He turned his head to give Obi-Wan an amused smirk.
“‘Gingerbread House of Orgies,’” Obi-Wan suggested with a chuckle.
Anakin dried his hands and took out his phone. “Stand next to it and smile.”
“Can I wash my hands first?” Obi-Wan teased.
“No,” Anakin said simply. “Now do as I say,” he grinned.
“Yes, dear,” Obi-Wan chuckled and stood next to their abomination of a creation, a serious look on his face as he raised an eyebrow.
“Perfect,” Anakin said and began typing on his phone. “The Kenobi-Skywalker Bukkake Manor,” he said as if that’s what he was spelling out for the caption.
“Do not call it that,” Obi-Wan warned playfully. “My nephew follows you. He doesn’t need to learn that word. Ever.”
“I won’t, old man,” Anakin smirked. “Don’t worry.” He made one final tap on his phone and set his phone down. “Now I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know if we can display it,” he said with a crooked grin. “And I don’t think you’re supposed to eat that gingerbread.”
He looked in the bowl still practically full of frosting. “I think I made too much.” He dipped his finger in it and stuck it in his mouth. “At least it tastes good.”
“With the amount of powdered sugar you used, it ought to,” Obi-Wan agreed. He dragged two fingers in the frosting, but instead of trying it himself, he put them to Anakin’s lips.
“Open,” he instructed and Anakin, the (usually) obedient and eager to please sub that he was, did exactly as he was told.
Obi-Wan pushed his two fingers inside Anakin’s mouth and Anakin immediately began sucking.
“Good boy,” Obi-Wan praised quietly.
A pretty blush came to Anakin’s cheeks as he pulled back and let Obi-Wan’s fingers fall from his mouth, a sight that Obi-Wan didn’t get to see quite as much anymore.
“You can’t say things like that,” Anakin mumbled, glancing at the ground.
“No?” Obi-Wan smirked.
“We were doing a wholesome activity!” Anakin laughed, finding his voice again.
“Well…” Obi-Wan shrugged. “You’re the one that made frosting that looks like cum.”
Soft Christmas music playing in the background probably wouldn’t have been Obi-Wan’s first choice for music to fuck to, but Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly picky either. Besides, there were worse things to listen to than Bing Crosby crooning over the speakers.
“You’re a dirty old man,” Anakin accused.
“I could always be dirtier,” Obi-Wan grinned.
“Oh, my god!” Anakin laughed sharply and covered his mouth. “No, you can’t. You’re the most perverted man I know.”
Obi-Wan was growing a bit impatient and quickly unzipped his fly, pulling his jeans and boxers down. “Since this activity was rather messy, I think it’s only fair that you help clean me up.”
“Were you frosting the house with your dick?” Anakin teased.
Obi-Wan picked up the piping bag and let it drip down his erection towards the tip. “It seems some happened to get there anyway.”
Anakin’s mouth curled into a crooked grin as he sank to his knees. “I can’t take you anywhere, old man.”
“That’s enough talking,” Obi-Wan mused, pulling Anakin’s head towards his cock.
Anakin licked up the length of it then buried his face between Obi-Wan’s legs, lapping at his balls and cleaning away the frosting.
“Good boy,” Obi-Wan praised softly when Anakin backed off to take a breath.
“I might like cum better.” Anakin licked his lips and batted his eyelashes a few times, giving Obi-Wan immeasurably innocent doe eyes.
“I think we can accommodate that,” Obi-Wan chuckled and Anakin took the hint, putting Obi-Wan’s cock in his mouth.
Obi-Wan fisted a hand in Anakin’s hair and tugged tightly, making Anakin moan deep in his throat that reverberated all the way up Obi-Wan’s spine. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve really trained all of your holes, haven’t I?”
Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, shifting on the floor as he grabbed behind Obi-Wan’s knees.
“Ah, ah,” Obi-Wan admonished. “No hands, baby. I’ll guide you.” He pushed Anakin’s head further on his cock, making Anakin gag as he tried to hold the position without the support of his hands on Obi-Wan’s legs.
“I know it’s hard to take Daddy’s cock,” Obi-Wan breathed. “But you do so well with my instruction.”
Anakin moaned again, this time mixed with a gag.
“Am I too big for you?” Obi-Wan groaned.
Anakin’s eyes were squeezed shut, drool forming at the corner of his mouth, but even with everything happening, Anakin didn’t back off nor did he even try.
Instead, he let Obi-Wan guide him - back and forth, sucking obediently almost as if he were in a trance.
Obi-Wan supposed he was. Especially since he himself was in his own kind of trance right up until he came in Anakin’s mouth.
Anakin swallowed as best as he could though when he pulled back a little had dripped to his chin.
“You lost some, little one,” Obi-Wan murmured and brushed his finger along Anakin’s chin.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Anakin said, his voice hoarse.
Obi-Wan held up his thumb to the abomination of a house, comparing it to the cum on his thumb.
“It really does look like cum,” he laughed as Anakin stood from the floor with shaky legs.
“No! Daddy!” Anakin laughed loudly and buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. “I tried to make it look decent.” He turned his head, gazing at the gingerbread house.
“It looks like… something,” Obi-Wan chuckled.
“How did you make Christmas dirty?” Anakin teased.
“It’s inherently a dirty holiday,” Obi-Wan defended. “There’s a naughty or nice list! That’s not my fault. It’s like it was made for naughty little boys who need discipline.”
“Every day in this house must be Christmas,” Anakin grumbled playfully. He looked at his house again and sighed. “What should we do with it?”
“Burn it in the fireplace?” Obi-Wan suggested, only half joking.
“Cum house roasting in an open fire,” Anakin sang to the tune of “The Christmas Song.”
“What a cozy way to spend an evening,” Obi-Wan mused.
“A cozy evening in our own Cum Cabin,” Anakin smirked.
“Merry Christmas to me,” Obi-Wan chuckled.
“Merry Christmas, old man,” Anakin grinned.