Rex flopped back down on the bed, letting Obi-Wan's weight collapse down onto his chest, their breathing rough but slowing in the aftermath of pleasure. Rex was hardly surprised when Obi-Wan's breathing rapidly slowed into a sleeping rhythm, simply ran a gentle hand down Obi-Wan's back, tracing strong muscles, drawing fingers through lingering sweat on a too thin, exhausted frame. This war was hard on the General. Hard on all of them, but the General too often neglected to take care of himself.

Once, Rex had laughed. He hadn't seen Cody in months, not since they had been deployed for the first time to their respective Generals. Too see his stoic, disciplined, no-nonsense - kriffing troll of a - brother trailing after a Jedi with an aggrieved look in his eyes and a plate of food, or his dropped cloak, or even his lightsaber, had driven Rex near hysterics. Oh, they were very professional in public, but the second they were off duty, it was like some heretofore unknown nurturing instinct erupted from Cody. He *fussed* and it was the funniest thing Rex had ever seen.

Rex hadn't understood at first. Hadn't understood until he'd spent more time with the man. Hadn't gotten it, until he started falling in love with the stubborn, sarcastic asshole of a man who cared too deeply and tried to hide it, even when his heart was bleeding. Even when he had to push himself harder, further than he would ever push anyone else, just to try to save a few more, to try and end the war a day sooner.

Rex let himself sink deeper into the thin pad of the General's bed, no better than the one in the bunks despite his status, continuing the soothing stroking, letting his own breathing and heartbeat come down from their exertions.

It had taken Cody mocking him relentlessly, between assuring him that General Kenobi spent just as much time subtly looking at Rex, to even start flirting with the General. And then it took an undercover mission, three bottles of brandy, and an outright proposition to get himself let into the General's bed.

Obi-Wan.

He was Obi-Wan here, and Rex reveled in it.

Obi-Wan had been firm, once he finished making wisecracks about alcohol tolerance at Rex's expense, that rank did not exist here, between them, off duty. And that if it began to effect their on-duty performance, it would end. Rex didn't want it to end.

Ever.

They already barely got to see one another, only when Anakin and Obi-Wan's missions overlapped.

To have even that comfort ended?

No.

Even if he hadn't been just as devoted to his own duty as Obi-Wan was, that would be unacceptable. He could deal with firmly drawn lines of propriety.

He didn't let himself clutch tighter to Obi-Wan, no matter how much he wanted to.

Rex was a practical vod. He knew that no matter how much he wanted this to last for the rest of his life, it wouldn't. Even if he lived through the war, Jedi weren't allowed attachments.

This was just a fleeting thing.

A thing of affection and care, and no little lust. But not the kind of passionate forever-love that Anakin thought he was hiding with his senator.

It couldn't be.

Wasn't allowed to be.

When the war finally ended, Obi-Wan would go back to doing everything he had done before the war for his Order, and Rex would have to find something to do with himself and his brothers, and they would probably never see each other again.

Rex blinked hard at the thought, one he only allowed himself in the deep of night, here, where Obi-Wan's presence could easily battle off the despair of it. It didn't matter that this would end. He had it now, had the care and attention and affection of this man.

For as long as he had it, he would cherish it.

Obi-Wan felt Rex slip into sleep, his Force presence going somnolent and fuzzy. He'd dragged himself nearly back to consciousness by the time Rex drifted off, stirred even through the near-crippling exhaustion by the sudden surge of distress in his lover's emotions. Obi-Wan didn't like it, these burst of despair that occasionally took his normally steady and determined Captain. He didn't move from where he was, though he did use the Force to float the blanket up from the foot of the bed over them.

He left his head resting over Rex's chest, feeling and hearing the vibrations of his slowing heartbeat. He hadn't brought it up with Rex yet, whatever was troubling him. He wasn't sure how. Obi-Wan was still having trouble figuring out where to draw the lines of what they were doing. Where did the captain and the general end, and the men begin? At what point could a lover offer comfort without the soldier fearing the general saw weakness?

It would not be weakness, to admit to fear, to feelings. Obi-Wan wished Rex would share more of what he felt, of what was troubling him.

Obi-Wan was a hypocrite

Obi-Wan had wanted to know Rex better from the first time he saw him; bright laughter sparking joy through his Force presence, gently teasing Obi-Wan's treasured Commander, fierce affection radiating from both of them.

He'd felt a *little* bad about Rex's hangover the night after that smuggling operation. Cody, bland as the awful porridge the Temple mess served in the morning, had told him that if he didn't stop sending gooey looks at his vod, he'd strand them on a planet together. Maybe a nice deserted moon.

Despite the lust and affection that Obi-Wan could feel coming from Rex whenever they came in contact, he could not be the one to make the first move. He was the superior officer. He would do nothing to instigate something between them.

He couldn't jump him, no matter how enticing he was, with his determination, cleverness, and brash attitude. His gruff but gentle treatment of Ahsoka. The way he helped protect Obi-Wan's padawan from himself. His unswerving loyalty to the Republic, his brothers, and his duty.

So he doubted that stranding them somewhere would have worked to make Rex own up, as he would have been too focused on getting them back to the GAR. Obi-Wan would have had to call Anakin to save them. His dignity would never have recovered.

When he'd finally snapped at Cody that, Force-damn it, he *couldn't* make the overture, Cody had been helpful for a change by telling him leadingly that Rex had somehow managed to acquire a taste for good brandy, and had a lose tongue when drunk.

(And he'd looked entirely too innocent when Obi-Wan had peered suspiciously at him and asked if that was where his bottle of Irexian Brandy had gone.)

So when an undercover mission had (suspiciously conveniently; Cody needed to stop spending time with Anakin) come up he'd taken Rex with him, and when it had finished up with two days left with nothing to do except wait for their transport, he'd decided to introduce Rex to a few different kinds of brandy.

To expand his education in the finer things the galaxy had to offer. Not anything nefarious. He'd been matching the captain drink for drink, of course, but *he'd* been unconsciously using the Force to filter the intoxicant out of his system.

He hadn't quite realized how drunk Rex had gotten, even as the flirting grew more and more blatant. Before a blatant and graphic proposition had stunned him to blinking silence; unanticipated, but hoped for.

Nothing had happened that night. But once the captain had sobered up, he'd confronted him about it.

He would not hold Rex to it, but if he was interested, if he understood that it could not interfere with duty, then maybe, maybe…they could have something.

And Rex had taken him up on it, joyfully, gleefully, passionately. As he had greeted his presence every time since. And yet, Obi-Wan did not know what was wrong.

It could not be their liaison. (Could it?) Rex always radiated happiness and lust and no small amount of smugness tinged with awe and joy whenever they found a chance to come together like this. It was only after, in the quiet, that occasionally despair sparked in his Captain. It reminded Obi-Wan of what he felt every time he considered how long this war had already lasted.

It couldn't possibly last much longer, could it? So many systems decimated, billions of sentients dead. It would end. It had to end, so it would. They would make it.

And after… after.

He could make Rex no promises while the war continued.

But the war would end.

'After the war' was a thought he rarely allowed himself. Qui-Gon had fought to teach him to focus on the present, had died, and Obi-Wan had learned that lesson hard. But he could not seem to stop himself, with Rex, from thinking of the future. After the war, when Obi-Wan returned to more regular duties within the Order, maybe he could make Rex some of the promises he deserved.

The clones would come to the Order, at least at first, if Obi-Wan had to shout himself raw at the Council and the Senate combined.

They had been made for the Jedi, they were the responsibility of the Order. They would find them a place in the Galaxy, help them adjust to life outside the army. It would take time, to find them all professions that suited them. Rex would be able to stay with him, if he wanted. Obi-Wan would make sure that they all would be able to do what they wanted.

Wolffe would doubtless stay with Plo. Most likely his entire troop. Obi-Wan wondered if Plo realized that he would have an entire squad traipsing along with him wherever he went from now on, no matter what anyone tried to say about it.

Probably.

Had the Council?

Unlikely.

(There were times that Obi-Wan enjoyed being on the Council. They were rare, but they mostly centered on getting to see the gobsmacked looks on their faces when one of their own did something unexpected or scandalous.)

Maybe Cody would stay with him too.

Obi-Wan hoped so. He knew that he was not one of them, was not a brother, but he had great affection for Cody, and would like it if he stayed near.

It would be time, when they could take a moment to rest and recover, to take a good hard look at the rigidity of the rules of Attachment. It would be a shame to lose so many good, needed Knights and Masters from the Order over love.

He and Rex had proven that they could do their duty regardless of their relationship. (Anakin was still learning, still figuring out how to balance his love against the greater good, but Obi-Wan was sure that between his natural sense of duty and Padme's that the two of them would figure it out before they took things too far.) Other Knights and Masters had proven the same, and forcing them to hide, to pretend it wasn't happening was only hurting them.

Perhaps it was necessary for now, but… He would fight the Council itself over his right to keep both his Mastery and his… his Rex. If they decided he was compromised by this, when he knew himself not to be, then so be it.

He had left the Order before. He could do it again. He was no longer that shattered adolescent who thought that being a Jedi was to be perfect, to prevent loss.

Being a Jedi was loss.

They needed to counterbalance that, especially in this war and beyond it.

The war, not matter its terrible effects, would be but a fleeting thing in the vastness of their lives.

Force and Rex willing, their relationship would not be. They would spend that lifetime together.

Obi-Wan brushed a soft kiss against Rex's skin and let sleep claim him again.

******
Captain Rex, a soldier of the Rebellion, as he had been a soldier all his life, and General Kenobi, one of the Last Jedi, met under a frozen, starry sky. It was a harsh planet, full of harsh beauty, and it was the perfect backdrop for men who had led equally harsh lives.

The stared silently for a moment, neither having known the identity of their contact until they arrived.

Then they collided in a fierce, passionate embrace, hands stroking over the planes of a body long missed, eyes drinking in features too long denied, and mouths meeting with a gentleness that belied the ferocity with which they had come together.

It was brief, barely a minute, before they pulled away.

They had too many important things to do.

Rex had to get back to his little squad of hotheaded rebels before one of them decided they could take on the whole Empire by themselves and got them all killed.

Obi-Wan had to get the information Rex had collected back to the rebellion leaders, and then get back to Luke.

They each let one of their hands clasp it's opposite, finger twining together, relearning old callouses and exploring new ones. They traded information, data disks, and things too sensitive to be written down; locations of bases and movements, and the names of allies, hands entwined, and tried not to cling more to each other than was necessary for wounded hearts.

Barely five unites later, they were done.
Obi-Wan, who now went by Ben, pulled his love, his old captain, closer one last time, kissed him, not letting the tears well in his eyes, not letting himself cling, or order his Captain to come with him, to stay at his side. His captain was too good a man for that. He would be doing what he felt was best, was most needed.

Rex clamped a hand in Obi-Wan's har, deepening the kiss before pulling away. He did not demand that Obi-Wan come with him and rejoin the Rebellion in a more active role. He was where his duty drew him.

Obi-Wan let his hand stroke Rex's face one last time, and with a heartbroken smile, he turned and faded back into the night.

Rex let him go. He had to. He'd always known that.

They were neither of them the same men they had been. They now knew that the war had no end. They would do their duty, no matter the cost to their hears.

It was how they loved. Why they loved each other. How they continued to, evening the years between the brief moments they saw each other. Someday, they would be reunited permanently, them and everyone they had loved.

Someday, when the war was over.

The war had no end until you died.

Rex hoped their forever-reunion was a long time in coming.