A/N: Sorry, I know how many of you were thanking me for updating so quickly in the past. I was hit with a severe case of writer's block for this and all other fics, as well as a slew of homework assignments at the same time! Teachers really need to be more considerate, don't you think?
But this chapter really took a lot out of me – Temple Mistress, you know what I mean! – this is it's third incarnation, which is almost unheard-of for me, hence my extreme frustration! I hope that I pulled off a satisfactory conclusion! Yes, conclusion. This will be the last chapter… but it's twice as long as the preceding ones!
To replying:
Captain Starseeker: Fear not! I couldn't leave them hanging like that either! Hope that this update was soon enough for you… you're lucky you just got to the fic, or else you would have had to wait a MUCH longer time! LOL.
Rwana-Lai Xishu: I need to start off by saying what an AWESOME name that is! I'm glad that you love this fic, and I wish that I COULD keep it going forever, as it's nice to write some fluffy humour after wallowing in angsty stuff like Chiaro. I'll write another one some day, I promise!
PadmePotter: That would be the reason that I chose Moulin Rouge! I'm glad that someone else appreciated the irony that Christian and Obi-Wan are essentially the same person… so Obi-Wan getting jealous of him is my little sniggly joke!
Aryll: Umm… thank you…? Glad it made you laugh.
Lea Nikkaya: Glad you are enjoying the story! Is it funny? I hadn't noticed…lol, I tease.
Fluffybunny: Heh, whenever I read your penname I just want to cuddle a stuffed animal. Preferably Obi-Wan. (cough). Glad to know that I'm on your alerts! YAY!
Liana: Yes, darling, I AM a tease, and you know you LOVE me for it! Bwahah! Don't worry, after all that sexual tension in the preceding chapters, there had to be SOME resolution. I'm sorry it's not a Supernova-esque piece, but that wouldn't have fit. Glad that you like the story! And I know you liked the first version of this chapter as well… but this one is better, isn't it?
Vee: As always, I love getting reviews from a great author such as yourself! (smile). He did pick the movie yes… but he thought it was going to be better than it was. I guess sordid love stories don't appeal to Mr Sexy Jedi – he's living one, after all. LOL. I'm glad that you liked Anakin's secret passion for music… I can't wait to see what you think of Obi-Wan's secret in this chapter! LOL. And yes, he does have a voice like heaven. (sigh, swoooooon.)
Vadergirl: Always nice to have a new reader. Hope you like the chapter.
Gizzi1213: LOL, If you don't like Nicole Kidman, then you ought to enjoy this chapter! (wink). And Anakin does indeed get to Obi-Wan, the poor man. He's so…so...dignified, that it's impossible not to play around with that! Bwahaha.
Alchemy Dream: Yes, their lovers spats are a lot of fun to write. But so is the resolution to those spats, LOL!
Temple Mistress: Without you, this chapter would have been utter crap. You know it, I know it. Thank you for snapping me out of my writing funk, listening to me bitch, and helping me get over it and on to writing this. I love you! You will ALWAYS be my twin, no matter what! (smiles and hugs!)
THE MOVIE FIC
Part 4
Damn that fucking musical to hell. Obi-Wan could still hear the music coming in through the closed door to his bedroom. Thank the Force that he couldn't make out the words – the entire plot was so asinine that he was more than happy to miss the ending.
Curled up on the sleep-couch in the centre of the room, Obi-Wan pulled a blanket more tightly across his shoulders. A cold shower had been very much in order after dealing with Anakin, to rid his traitorous body of any lingering amorous effects from the younger Jedi. Now he was fucking freezing, of course. Obi-Wan growled low in his throat, pulling another blanket over himself. The bed was in complete disarray now, all the covers and sheets untucked to make a little comfortable nest of self-pity.
Stupid Anakin and his stupidly watching that stupid movie…fucking Sith. Obi-Wan poured himself another glass of cognac – his chocolate liqueur was all gone. He'd already had two glasses of the potent drink to ease off the chill of his frigid shower, but they had done nothing to lighten his blackening mood.
Objectively speaking, he knew he was being ridiculous, that he was overreacting. He shouldn't give a damn if Anakin preferred to watch some ridiculous movie about some… some slut and her moronic lover – who was not, in any way, attractive – over spending time with him. He was a Jedi Master. He was more than content to have some time alone; Force knew he never got a chance to just relax these days, what with the war and satisfying a rather ardent Anakin – not that he minded doing that, of course…. But he should enjoy the peace and quiet, the unexpected reprieve…being alone.
All alone…and old.
He was getting so fucking old….
Hearing the miserable tone of his thoughts with detached surprise, Obi-Wan gently set the brandy snifter aside. He had obviously been drinking a little too much…if he went much further, he would end up singing at the top of his lungs, or dancing, or – Force forbid it – getting Mace on the communicator to confess in a weepy voice that he was Obi-Wan's only friend in the whole galaxy, and that he loooooved him.
Mace hadn't spoken to him for weeks the last time he had done that. Anakin had found it amusing, of course.
Little bugger.
Eyeing the door nervously, straining his ears to make sure that Anakin was still watching the movie, Obi-Wan reached over the side of the bed to find the magazine he had been reading in bits and snatches. By the stars, it was the trashiest thing he had ever seen in his life, but strangely addictive. In front of Anakin, Obi-Wan was always careful to be seen reading things more appropriate to a Jedi Master and General of the Republic – ancient texts dealing with tactics and politics. Machiavelli's The Prince, Hobbes' Leviathan…. Obi-Wan always found some grim truth in their ideas that sentient beings were either essentially evil or essentially stupid. Not an opinion that Jedi were supposed to hold, but with the progression of the war one that was becoming more and more apparent.
But this… Obi-Wan scanned the titles of the articles with a mixture of deepest disgust and revolted fascination.
"Chancellor Palpatine's Secret Life EXPOSED!"
"Look Hot For Less! 50 Ways to Spice Up Your Look!"
"The Truth Behind The Beauty – The Stars of Moulin Rouge REVEALED!"
"The 10 Sexiest JEDI Men UNCOVERED!"
Obi-Wan arched one eyebrow. The last one sounded intriguing…he flipped to the article idly, and growled low in his throat. Of course. Anakin would be rated number one. Obi-Wan had to admit that those sexy lips in that perpetual pout, those boyish blue eyes coupled with that halo of blonde curls made Anakin easily the most desirable man on Coruscant.
Even though Obi-Wan personally agreed with the magazine's assessment of Anakin, the fact that the gorgeous Jedi was currently in the other room, completely ignoring him, frustrated the Jedi Master to no end. Seeing that sensuous smile splashed across the pages of a trashy magazine only reminded Obi-Wan that Anakin wasn't his alone.
Thoughts like that made Obi-Wan want to grab Anakin, in front of the Council, the Senate, and the Holo-Net reporters, and just kiss him. Kiss him again and again to proclaim to the galaxy that Anakin Skywalker was his. His and no other's.
Oh Force, Mace would have seven kinds of an epileptic fit if a respected Council member such as Obi-Wan pulled a stunt like that…the thought made the Jedi Master smile. It would almost be worth it, just to have Mace Windu faint.
Chuckling, Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the article at hand. Scowling, he angled the magazine towards the light, and then away from it again. By the stars, the thing was impossible to read.
Flicking his eyes towards the closed door, Obi-Wan assured himself that Anakin was still watching the film before reaching over the edge of the sleep-couch once again.
He didn't really need the glasses. Not really. It was just that his eyes got tired more quickly in the dim light… yes, that was it. He certainly wasn't nearsighted, no matter what Master Luminara had to say on the subject.
Although they did help a lot when he wanted to read something….
With a faint sigh of exasperation, Obi-Wan slipped the glasses on, blinking as the glossy text of the magazine came into sudden, sharp focus. He was just tired, that was all. Ordinarily he would have been able to read just fine without them.
By the Force, if Anakin ever found out he wore reading glasses, the resulting laughter would sound like a seismic charge dropped in the middle of the Temple. He would never live it down. Only Luminara knew he had the Sith-cursed things, and that was only because Master Qui-Gon would have chosen the most inexpensive, the most practical, and therefore the most hideous frames for his Padawan. He had always had a knack for doing that….shivering at the thought; Obi-Wan turned his attention back to the article.
'Decked out in sexy black formfitting leather that shows off his lightsabre, this Jedi bad-boy wouldn't have to use the Force to charm any Coruscanti woman out of her clothes. Whatever the Jedi Code of celibacy, those pouty lips weren't made for anything but sin, ladies. Anakin Sex-talker could certainly lure the most unsuspecting to the Dark Side without a fight.'
Obi-Wan snorted rudely at the banality of the article. Not that he minded the leather pants on Anakin. Quite the opposite, in fact. And he certainly couldn't deny that the author was right about Anakin's lips….
But Anakin Sextalker? Obi-Wan smiled. He would have to remember that one….
Interested now despite himself, Obi-Wan turned the page to see who ranked next on their list.
And choked back an outraged cry.
"Master Mace Windu. Underneath that stern demeanour, you know that there's a sleek sex-kitten ready to unsheathe his claws. From his powerful stature to that stare that's so hot it could melt the ice-caps of Hoth, we're willing to bet that Mace Windu would be a Force to be reckoned with in bed for the lucky lady who gets a peek at his lightsabre."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, completely revolted by even the idea. Who thought of things like this? It was just so… so…wrong. The only way it could get worse was if… – he turned the page.
"Quinlan Vos-"
He couldn't read any further than that, throwing the magazine from him as though he had been burned. There were just some things in the galaxy that didn't bear thinking about…. Obi-Wan reached for his cognac again, tossing back what was left in the glass in one gulp. He needed it to overpower the mental images that came from reading anything about Mace Windu's…lightsabre.
"Oh Sith," he cursed under his breath. He was sparring with Mace tomorrow. Obi-Wan considered for a moment, and poured himself another glass of the liquor.
----
Anakin paused the movie for a second, craning his head around to stare at the bedroom door. It still remained obstinately shut. He hadn't heard a word from Obi-Wan since the Jedi Master had stormed from the room in a rare fit of anger.
Anakin frowned slightly, more than a little put out. Generally when he and Obi-Wan got into a tiff, the older Jedi would quickly relent… and even concede to some snuggling in compensation for being sharp with Anakin.
Forehead furrowed, pouting, Anakin pulled the fuzzy blanket tighter over his shoulders, curling up on his side as he started the movie again. There was no way that he could apologize, of course; Obi-Wan had been overreacting, as usual. To give in and tell the Jedi Master that he was sorry would make it seem like Obi-Wan had been right.
Still… Anakin really wanted someone to hug. Usually when he was upset he could sneak into their bedroom and cuddle Obi-Wan's pillow, breathing in the scent of the man that he loved. But he couldn't very well do that while Obi-Wan was in there. He would just have to sniffle alone.
Not that the movie was getting to him. It wasn't. He was the Hero with No Fear, he wasn't about to let a holo-film affect him.
"Satine! SATINE!"
Reaching out, Anakin grabbed another tissue.
------
"'Well, I was just so thrilled to be working with such a talented and good-looking co-star on this movie.' Nicole enthuses, smiling widely as she responds…"
"Considering that he was acting across from you, it's no wonder that he appeared talented," Obi-Wan sneered at the frozen, glossy picture of the red-headed woman.
It had only taken another class of cognac before he had abandoned reading the boring mission reports from the Jedi Council to pursue his flung-away magazine. Now, sprawled out on his stomach, chin resting on one hand, Obi-Wan was busy drawing moustaches and big black eyebrows in pen on every picture of that detestable actress and her young co-star that Anakin had been…what was the word? Yes. Oogling. There had been some definite oogling going on out there. Well, fuck 'em. Fuck Anakin, fuck his little…little… that woman. Bastards, the lot of them. So what if that…that boy could sing and was in some trashy movie, and so what if he was considerably younger than Obi-Wan himself was?
"Because he's not a fucking Jedi. HAH!" Obi-Wan laughed at the distorted picture of the grinning actor, resolving drunkenly that if he ever met the kid, his lightsabre would rearrange those pretty features. Oh yes.
And then Anakin would be all his! Obi-Wan fairly purred at the thought.
But his smile froze as his eyes slid towards the door. Of course, Anakin had chosen some stupid movie over him. Bastard.
With quiet deliberation, Obi-Wan flipped back to the article about the Jedi. Smoothed out the page that featured a full page photo of Anakin. And drew a huge moustache over those pouty lips. Blackened out a few teeth. Connected the eyebrows. And smiled at his handiwork.
Now who was better looking?
Out of nowhere, a sudden ripple in the Force made him jump, the pen falling from his fingers. A current of sadness that echoed along his Force-bond.
Anakin.
Any residual anger at his lover momentarily forgotten, Obi-Wan pushed off the bed, staggering slightly as the room spun beneath his feet. Anakin was hurt somehow; Obi-Wan could feel it. Damn the floor for suddenly becoming so uneven and making it impossible to walk in a straight line….
Obi-Wan scowled at the door that suddenly loomed in front of him, wondering when the damn thing had moved closer into the room. Lurching sideways, he threw out a hand to catch himself against it, and nearly fell over. Hmm…. The thing had moved backwards again, trying to catch him off guard. Well. Well. HE was a Jedi Master, and such little tricks wouldn't work on him, oh no!
Pounding his fist against the smooth metallic surface of the door, Obi-Wan growled in frustration. The Sith-Cursed thing was refusing to cooperate.
Just then it swung open, depositing Obi-Wan rather unceremoniously into Anakin's arms, causing the younger man to stumble backwards in surprise under the unexpected weight. Staggering slightly, he tripped over his own feet and fell sprawling onto the floor with Obi-Wan on top of him.
Before the tipsy Jedi Master could appreciate this sudden change in positions, and properly take advantage of the situation, Anakin's arms were wound tightly around Obi-Wan's waist, a mass of blonde curls tickling his nose as the younger man buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"Anakin….?" Obi-Wan was confused. How in the Sith had he ended up tangled up with his lover on the floor - and in such a pleasant position - so quickly?
"Donnunmefereveeme," came the muffled whimper from the younger Jedi.
"I'm sorry?"
"Don't you ever leave me," Anakin repeated, turning his face to the side so that his words were clearer. Impulsively, he kissed Obi-Wan's neck, tightening his embrace as though he could keep the Jedi Master with him forever just by sheer force.
"By the stars, Anakin, why would I ever -?" Obi-Wan was thoroughly confused. He didn't remember saying anything about leaving Anakin…had he? There had been the incident with the magazine meeting Obi-Wan's artistic improvements, but there was no way Anakin could know about that already…er, could he?
"I don't know…" Anakin hated that he sounded so immature. Really, the end of that movie shouldn't have affected him so…so…profoundly. Whenever his mother had told him stories, he expected a happy ending. The bad guys were defeated, the monsters slain, and the prince and princess lived happily ever after. That was just how it worked. "…just promise me that you won't."
Carefully, Obi-Wan extricated himself from Anakin's embrace, taking his time to stand up. The room swayed alarmingly, and he threw out a hand to steady himself. And nearly fell, when it met only air.
Drawing himself up in what he hoped was a dignified way, Obi-Wan glared down his nose at Anakin. The effect was somewhat marred when Anakin stood as well, as Obi-Wan then had to tilt his head up to glare down… it was all very perplexing to him.
"I'm not…fuck," he cursed, losing his train of thought. Obi-Wan swayed backwards, caught himself, and continued in what sounded like a very serious tone to his ears. "Fuck. Me, leave you? Not fucking likely, Mr Fucking Most Eligible BASTARD of a Jedi…fucker. Why don't you just go…" he waved his arm uncertainly, almost overbalancing himself. "Go and… fucking… just… watch your fucking movie!" he concluded with triumphant anger, spinning on his heel and slamming the door once more.
Anakin stood frozen for a second, completely caught off-guard by the abrupt outburst. He could feel the stunned tears rise in his eyes, and cuffed them away angrily. That movie had already weakened his emotional barriers, and fucking Sith HELL, he wanted to cuddle with Obi-Wan, not argue with him…although he hadn't yet ruled out the possibility of make-up-sex later on.
There was a moment of silence as the loud bang of the door settled heavily on his ears, followed immediately by a loud thud that sounded suspiciously like a certain Jedi Master falling on the floor. What in the Sith had Obi-Wan been drinking?
Hearing footsteps receding from the doorway – each one verrrrry deliberately placed with extreme caution, Anakin judged it safe to open the door.
Obi-Wan was sulking on the bed, making it very apparent that he wasn't paying attention to Anakin at all. Probably reading one of his incredibly dull books on politics and the nature of sentient beings.
Growling low in his throat, Anakin strode over to the bed, pushed the - magazine? – aside with one hand, and draped himself over Obi-Wan's lap. "Pay attention to me," he demanded. "Now what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You missed your newest publicity," Obi-Wan snapped, indicating the discarded magazine contemptuously.
Anakin picked up the trashy mag, interest piqued. Obi-Wan suddenly remembered his doodling endeavours, and tried to snatch it back from Anakin's fingers.
"No – no Anakin! Don't! No-"
"What the Sith is this?" Anakin was laughing. "Master, why did you draw all over her face?"
Obi-Wan pulled away, pouting. "What, are you mad that I wrecked a picture of your little hussy?"
"Hussy?" Anakin couldn't remember Obi-Wan ever having used the word before. Moving to straddle Obi-Wan's hips, he slid his hands over the older Jedi's shoulders. "Why, Obi-Wan Kenobi, are you jealous?" he asked in incredulous delight, like a youngling on a solstice day at the Temple.
"…No."
Anakin grinned, shifting his hips forward to press more fully against Obi-Wan. "Do you know how nice it is to see you being the immature one for a change?"
Obi-Wan scowled, trying to ignore the way his blood seemed to froth in his veins whenever Anakin touched him. Now was not the time. He was mad at Anakin. Yes. That was it. Mad. Not Happy.
"I'm not the one who was sobbing over a holo-film, Anakin," he taunted back.
"I – I did not!"
"Your eyes are red."
Anakin frowned. This was single-minded drunk-Obi, not amorous drunk-Obi. He definitely knew which one he preferred. "I have a cold." He pulled away in irritation, moving off Obi-Wan's lap and turning away.
Obi-Wan caught him before he could slide off the bed, wrapping his arms around Anakin's waist and leaning his face against his partner's bare back. Ah well, so much for being angry. But as a Jedi renowned for his negotiating skills, he knew when to snatch an opportunity before it was irrevocably lost. Besides, this way promised a far more entertaining end to the evening. He pressed a chaste kiss between Anakin's shoulder blades before gently flicking the tip of his tongue over the warmth of Anakin's skin. Feeling the answering shiver, Obi-Wan bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
"Is the 'Hero with No Fear' all upset over a holo-film?" he teased gently.
"No, I was not. I just have a cold," Anakin insisted, throwing in a fake cough for the sake of authenticity. "That's what happens when you keep me up all night." Oh Force, please say you're going to keep me up all night….
"Then what was that sadness I felt in the Force?"
Damn that pedantic side of Obi-Wan. Anakin stifled a groan. (And fuck that Master/Padawan bond.)
"I can hear you, Anakin."
(Well, fuck you as well.)
"I thought you were interested in that singing, dancing… actor… person…who was not at all good-looking…" Obi-Wan said, growing more and more frustrated as he spoke. He began to gesture angrily, trying to conjure words from the air as his famous rhetorical skills failed him. "You two would be perfect for each other. You could save all of your magazine articles…." he trailed off, flushing bright red as Anakin picked up the magazine anew and paged through it until he came to his own picture.
Anakin slowly raised one eyebrow, shooting an amused smirk at Obi-Wan. It was sexy when the normally placid Jedi Master came undone….
"'The 10 Sexiest Jedi Men Uncovered,' eh?" he read the title aloud.
"Yes, and I already know you won," Obi-Wan snapped peevishly, reaching over for the bottle of cognac.
Anakin glared at him mildly. "You've had enough of that."
"Hardly."
"Considering that it has already rendered you incapable of counting to ten, I'd say that you have had too much," Anakin countered.
Obi-Wan paused, suspecting that his lover was somehow making fun of him. "What do you mean…?" he ventured cautiously.
With a smirk, Anakin flipped the magazine around, just as Obi-Wan took a long sip of his liquor…
…and choked.
"'…but the number 1 hottest Jedi still hasn't changed. He's quiet, he's noble, and he is the incarnation of Sex Appeal. With that silky ginger hair that just begs to have fingers tousle it, that sensuous smile and those wickedly blue, blue eyes, you know that Obi-Wan Kenobi is one hunk of burning Jedi. We would just love to get a peek under those robes at that sexy physique, and maybe arrange for some private lightsabre training of our own. Bets are open on how long it would take to undo that vow of chastity, something that should be a sin in a man who looks like this. No wonder he lives in a Temple, because Master Kenobi is a GOD.'" Anakin read aloud in a falsetto voice, laughing outright. "True, true…" he glanced over at his stunned Master with a barely-concealed grin. "You are sexy, but not too bright," he tossed the tabloid over to Obi-Wan casually. "The article was counting down to number one."
"It's not funny, Anakin!" Obi-Wan protested.
"I never said that it was," the younger Jedi placated him, amused, "I was just surprised that you didn't figure it out." He moved up the bed, voice dropping to a throaty growl. "I don't think you know how hot you really are… wanna let me show you?"
"Anakin…" Obi-Wan was mortified, he could feel his cheeks flushing bright crimson.
"Don't I get to have some private lightsabre lessons?" Anakin continued, smiling slowly, suggestively; the full-lipped, heart-wrenching smile that lit up the room and shot straight through Obi-Wan's heart. "You are a God, after all… let me worship you properly."
Obi-Wan scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall. Honestly, it was so difficult to try to remain angry at Anakin. So hard to even remember why he had been mad in the first place. Just being near Anakin erased such petty considerations.
Anakin grinned hugely. It was such a rush to tease Obi-Wan like this, to whisper how desirable he was, how much Anakin wanted him. All the truth of course, but the deliciously embarrassed look on Obi-Wan's face made him all the more adorable.
But he paused only centimetres from Obi-Wan's face and pulled back, beginning to laugh. "Now who's slow?" he chuckled in self-mockery. "I just realized what was different about you," he murmured softly, grinning like a Padawan whose training exercises have been cancelled for the day.
"And…?" Obi-Wan prompted, immediately self-conscious. Oh Force, he wasn't sober enough to deal with Anakin in one of his mischievous moods….
Anakin leaned in to brush his lips against Obi-Wan's. "You're wearing glasses," he said in a quietly gleeful voice, studying his Master's face – crimson with embarrassment – more closely.
Obi-Wan pulled back, cheeks on fire as he became more flustered. "These? Oh, these…" he nervously pushed the glasses farther up his nose from where they had slipped down. "Um. These… they're… they're, ah…"
"Sexy." Anakin purred, pulling Obi-Wan forward into a long, lingering kiss, raising his hands to caress Obi-Wan's face, pulling the Jedi Master closer to him.
Obi-Wan gasped slightly as they broke apart, eyes still closed as he exhaled slowly. Anakin smiled softly; he loved seeing all of Obi-Wan's facial expressions. He had long ago committed every single one to memory.
This was Obi-Wan's puppy-dog face; wide-eyed, embarrassed, seeking approval. "They don't make me look old?"
"I think you should wear them more often…." Anakin murmured, busy devouring Obi-Wan's throat.
"R-really?" Obi-Wan gasped out, arching against Anakin's lips.
"Mmmm-hmmm… but only around me. And only with nothing else on."
"Well, I would hardly wear them in front of Mace and the rest of the Council…"
Anakin snarled in disgust, pulling away.
Obi-Wan instantly grumbled in protest. "Who said you could stop?"
Anakin shook his head. "Why in the Sith do you have to mention fucking Mace Windu every single time things start to get good?"
Obi-Wan smiled slyly. "I didn't say anything about fucking Mace, Anakin," he purred, lounging back against the pillows, making Anakin whimper in frustration. "Although perhaps I should…"
"What did you say?" Anakin hissed quietly.
Obi-Wan smirked. "Well, speaking as the Hottest Jedi in the Temple, I really don't think that I should be slumming with number 10…after all, I have a reputation to maintain." Glancing up at the younger Jedi, he made sure that he had Anakin's full and undivided attention before dropping the bomb. "He beat you."
"WHAT?" Anakin was outraged, instantly snatching the magazine and thumbing angrily through the pages to where the article was. He blanched visibly. "No! NO! I am so hotter than him!"
Obi-Wan chuckled. "Do you want to borrow my pen?"
----
Anakin smiled fondly as he watched Obi-Wan curled up in slumber. There were lines of black pen smudged across the Jedi Master's fingers, and faint shadows on his face from when he had stroked his beard in contemplation. The magazine lay on the floor from where they had been drawing on it. Now every single picture – that wasn't of either of them, obviously – had been…ah…improved, and all the articles creatively edited.
Snuggling closer against the sleepy warmth of Obi-Wan's body, he nuzzled his face against the older Jedi's back, wondering with a delicious smile where else the pen had rubbed off.
Closing his eyes, he sighed in contentment. They really needed to watch movies together more often.
Preferably musicals.
END.
IT"S DONE! YAY! Well, this was a lot of fun, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Now back to my speciality: ANGST! YAY! But I may do another fluffy fic in the future… it was waaaaaay too much fun to write!
Hugs!
Xtine