Obi-Wan speed-walked through the many corridors of the Jedi Temple, eager to get as much as distance as possible between him and the jodo he had spent all day trapped inside. He could feel the beginning of an anxiety attack creeping up on him, just at the edge of his awareness, and hoped that he would be able to reach his quarters before it was too late.
Trying to make himself invisible with the Force to avoid fellow Jedi, something he occasionally resorted to when everything just got too much, he couldn't help but feel profoundly ashamed of himself. How sad was it that he, a Master, Knight of the Republic, General on the battlefield, still got overwhelmed after spending a whole day teaching the next generation of Jedi? He didn't think that creche Masters ever experienced anything like what he was currently going through. Obi-Wan knew that the creche was a position you had to choose, and wasn't randomly assigned to the first Knight available, still it made him feel terrible that some part of him resented a bunch of kids for using him as a human playground.
They had been all-over him from the second he sat cross-legged on the floor to teach them how to meditate, climbing on his lap, then looking over his shoulder when he wanted to show them something on his datapad. Then he had gone over some of the basic forms of lightsaber combat, clearly not expecting that the younglings would go ballistic and start begging him to let them try too, asking him to use his real saber instead of the training one. Which of course was out of the question.
Obi-Wan didn't hate children, on the contrary, he was honoured to be allowed to personally oversee the younglings' training, and it filled him with joy when some of those he had taught remembered him when they grew up. It was humbling. Even so, he wasn't particularly fond of how they just - kept invading his personal space like it was nothing. And to them it probably was nothing, for he had seen how they played together, scuffling on the green grass of the Temple gardens, and still remembered that he hadn't been much different, when he was young.
The thing is: Obi-Wan wasn't a youngling anymore and before people touched him, they had to ask. It made his skin crawl when somebody he wasn't friends with patted him on the back to congratulate him after a well-earned victory, or rested their elbow on his shoulder while coming up with battle tactics. Which didn't mean that he hated physical contact in general - he loved it, but only when he asked for it and, most importantly, was the one making the first move.
Anakin was the exception, clearly, but even with him he had his limits: Obi-Wan loved when the other embraced him after a long day and made him disappear between his strong arms, but it was something that eventually became overwhelming if it lasted too long. Even if Obi-Wan loved him more than life itself.
The younger Jedi's love language was touch, in all its forms, but he respected Obi-Wan's wishes and was just as content with being the one receiving the cuddles, instead of always administering them. They had talked about why Obi-Wan had no problems being the one initiating contact and could stay sprawled on top of the other for hours at a time, but couldn't physically and mentally stand the opposite.
The first time that had happened Obi-Wan had started hyperventilating, scaring Anakin to death, but they had soon concluded that he somehow had to believe he was in control of what happened to him. That the feeling of someone straddling him immediately made his body think that he was trapped, even though Obi-Wan knew that was never going to happen.
Thankfully, the two of them had worked their way through the issue and were as happy as ever, knowing exactly where to stop and what was safe to do. He was so lucky to have fallen in love with someone like Anakin, selfless and always eager to try his utmost best to make the other comfortable. Who always put the needs of those he cared about before his own.
Too bad that he could not ask the same of the younglings. Well, he could - technically speaking - and it would be very proper to teach them the importance of boundaries, since some of them would one day become Jedi, but he couldn't bring himself to. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong with at least telling them.
Wrapping his spacious brown robe tighter around himself, Obi-Wan turned a sharp corner and saw, finally, the door that led to his quarters. After Anakin's knighting he had been forced to move to another section of the Temple, one reserved for Masters without Padawans and Knights and it had never really been a problem, for Obi-Wan enjoyed being alone every now and then, but since he and Anakin had gotten together a few months earlier it had gotten a bit inconvenient that their little apartments were so far from one another.
It wasn't uncommon for former apprentices to seek for their Masters' guidance after having been knighted, but it usually stopped after a few months. For that reason, the fact that Anakin was still seen knocking on the door of Obi-Wan's quarters was indeed a bit suspicious, and they both wondered how long they would be able to keep that charade going before someone found out. What would they do then? Well, they had already made a decision, one Obi-Wan fully supported but that kept bothering that part of him that was still clinging to his beloved Jedi Code.
It was a bit hypocritical of him, seen as he had felt little to no remorse when he had broken his vows to the Order in the first place. It still amazed him that now, love came before duty in his list of priorities, and it scared him that for Anakin he would leave the Order without thinking twice about it.
Not that he hadn't left it before or thought about doing it, always for love, but he had tried to blame his past mistakes on him being still too young and foolish. After Satine, Obi-Wan had become convinced that his life mission was serving the Jedi Order to the best of his capabilities, and that nothing would ever sway his beliefs again.
Little had he known. Nevertheless, he didn't regret falling in love with Anakin and never would, for it had made him realize that there was more to life than just blindly following the teachings of the Jedi. As a matter of fact, he hadn't felt so alive in years: love was intoxicating and it made everything easier to bear, so much so that meditation was now nothing more than a last resort.
Of course, it still helped him clear his mind, center himself, but it was nothing compared to the effect that simply looking at the man he loved had on Obi-Wan. Being able to merge with Anakin's blinding presence in the Force was all he needed, his signature as familiar as his own, and knowing it was important for Obi-Wan made the younger Jedi blaze with pride.
Stopping in front of the door, Obi-Wan took a deep breath before keying in the code to open it. He could sense Anakin's presence inside, which was almost - almost - enough to calm him down, and felt a bit sorry for him, since the other was probably in the mood for spending some time with him. That would unfortunately have to wait, at least until Obi-Wan finished drinking the cup of tea he was already planning to make.
Anakin was levitating cross-legged over Obi-Wan's carpet, trying to meditate the stress away, when he heard the door hiss open. He had been so lost in the Force that he had somehow missed the familiar signature approaching the quarters, its edges quivering gently as they usually did.
He dared to steal a look at Obi-Wan, hoping the other wouldn't notice it, but of course he did. The Jedi Master smiled at him, his lips curving slightly, and shrugged off his brown robe to hang it on the hangers next to the entrance.
"Welcome back!" Anakin said, closing his eyes again. He still wasn't done meditating and he knew that unless he successfully released his worries in the Force, they would keep him company for the rest of the day, and it was a pain in everybody's ass when that happened: his brooding, fidgety self could be a lot to handle at times. For that reason, he sunk deeper into the flux of life that surrounded him, trying once again to just merge freely with it.
It had always been difficult for him, letting go, becoming one with something that wasn't already part of him. Of course, the Force was part of him: it gave him his powers and had been a vital part of his life for as long as he could remember, even before he knew what it was actually called. But that was just the surface of what being a Jedi entailed, the rest of it required years of mental training to master, a degree of concentration and tranquillity that had never come natural to Anakin, much to Obi-Wan's dismay.
He remembered getting so angry at the older man when he asked him to forget about the physical boundaries of his body, to think of himself as a small piece of a bigger puzzle, that the Force would allow to become something more. More what? More than human? Was there something beyond that?
Thinking about how hard he had struggled made him laugh now, and Anakin almost wished that he could go back in time and tell his fifteen year to just shut the fuck up and let his Master do his job without fussing so much. He still couldn't extend himself into the Force like Obi-Wan was able to, and most likely never would since it was a natural talent the other had, but Anakin sensed that he was getting there, somehow.
It probably had something to do with the fact that he had fallen in love with the man. They hadn't meant to, it just kind of happened over the course of the war, the two of them finally being equals. Anakin had at last been able to look at him like the other Jedi did, without the bias of being his apprentice (which had of course played its part, building the foundations of their kyber-strong friendship), and had witnessed first-hand what an incredible warrior the older man was. As a result, he had fallen in love with his kindness, his bravery and overall goodness. He had fallen in love with all his little quirks, the way he brushed his hands over the spines of the books in the Archives and the care with which he handled the tiniest things.
Anakin had fallen in love with the way Obi-Wan looked at each and every sunset over Coruscant, golden light turning his auburn hair a vibrant shade of golden copper, like he hadn't already seen them thousands of times before.
And, for some inexplicable reason, that wonderful man had decided that his heart would belong to Anakin, and Anakin only. He didn't know what he had done to deserve such a gift and sometimes Anakin still feared that one day Obi-Wan would get tired of him, but in the meanwhile it was his duty to make sure that the other's trust was not misplaced.
Thinking about his feelings, unravelling them to be spread in front of his mind's eye, washed away the remnants of his fears and doubts, freeing him of some of the weight that seemed to have settled on his chest since the beginning of the war. Anakin breathed in, relieved, and lowered himself back down on the carpet, exhaling as he opened his eyes again.
Obi-Wan does this to me, he thought fondly as he quickly looked around and saw that the Jedi was busy making himself a cup of tea, his back to him.
"Everything okay today?" he asked, still sitting on the floor. He was at peace and felt no need to stand up, or so he thought until Obi-Wan replied from where he was standing in front of the sink, humming noncommittally.
And that was when Anakin was briefly able to sense the vague discomfort that radiated off Obi-Wan before he remembered to raise his shields back up, shutting him out completely. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before getting up from the carpet, his knees clicking loudly.
It was one of those days then, when his other half in the Force didn't want to burden Anakin with whatever was bothering him because he believed he would be able to take care of it on his own. As if Anakin didn't know how to read his body language when he shied away from him, picking up on all the little tellings Obi-Wan couldn't hide, no matter how hard he tried.
Anakin slowly walked towards him and lifted a hand, wanting to place it on his upper arm, but stopped in his tracks when Obi-Wan, who in the meantime had poured himself a cup of his favourite tea and had turned to face him, flinched away, looking nothing short of scared.
Oh.
"What happened?" he asked, backing away with both hands raised to the sides of his head. Anakin knew better than to touch him when he was in distress, not until he had been given permission to. "Younglings?" A nod. "Bear Clan?"
Obi-Wan swallowed a sip of the bitter liquid and smiled ruefully, his eyes fixed on the floor, before putting the mug back on the counter. He looked sad, with his brows furrowed together like that.
"Yes, I guess their reputation precedes them." Obi-Wan replied, rubbing both his hands over his biceps, something he was wont to do when he was particularly stressed. Anakin felt himself smiling sympathetically in return, for he too had had a chance to teach that group of rascals a couple of times. Master Yoda had looked very pleased when he had seen the horror painted on his face, the old bastard.
"They are affectionate, that's for sure. Maybe a bit too rough sometimes," he laughed and lowered his hands back down. There was something he could try to make things better, which had worked once before, even though Obi-Wan hadn't been as upset as he looked and felt now.
It was still worth a try, so Anakin took a deep breath and started undoing the clasps that kept the airtight seal of the glove that hid his prosthetic arm from sight. He was aware that Obi-Wan had raised an eyebrow in question but didn't say anything, not until the leather garment slid off, revealing the golden and black metal that curled underneath.
Anakin wasn't ashamed of it, not anymore. At first he had hated it with burning passion, for it was a reminder of what lapses of judgement could cost when fighting a war, but especially because the first model the Healers had fitted him with bore too much resemblance to those of the Separatists' battle droids. It had looked rough, mainly because it was only a temporary solution, and it hadn't allowed him to feel the objects he touched, not even the pressure they were supposed to exert upon coming in contact with his hand.
Not wanting to waste any more time away from the battlefront, he had manufactured a new one from scratch - the one he had now - effectively making himself fit for active duty again. It was definitely better than the other, stronger than a normal human limb, and it even enabled his brain to register some of the more basic sensations coming from his severed nerves thanks to the invisible silicone pads under his fingertips, the only softness in a sea of durasteel.
It still looked kind of wrong, droid-like, and that was why he preferred to keep it hidden under the leather glove at all times when other Jedi were around. It did prevent dust and grime from getting to the mechanics, which was nice, but in the safety of his own quarters Anakin had no real good to reason not to take the glove off. So he did, for he didn't care if Obi-Wan saw his mechno arm, having also assisted him a few times when he had to perform his routine check of his stump.
Obi-Wan was his home and as such there were no secrets between them, no jealousy nor awkwardness. Just them, and love of course.
Anakin stretched his metal fingers and moved his gaze back on the other's face, who was looking at his with wide eyes. He extended his arm towards Obi-Wan, an invitation, and smiled encouragingly. If Obi-Wan felt overwhelmed after having kids climb all over him, it was better if Anakin started with the hand that wasn't made of flesh.
It was indeed useful sometimes, he thought.
"May I?" he asked softly, wiggling his fingers. "It's not cold, don't worry, the glove kept it warm."
The older Jedi's mouth fell open and he looked at Anakin as if couldn't really process what he was being told. The Force around him thrummed, a sea of sudden emotions flooding it before their owner realized he had slipped again and called them back inside. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan nodded and slowly raised his own hand, putting it palm-down on Anakin's.
He accepted it with a smile and gently overturned it with a movement of his wrist. Anakin lifted his hand away for a second and brought his flesh one up under Obi-Wan's wrist, which was covered by his brownish arm wraps. He needed to hold his arm up but, before pressing his left hand against the other's forearm, Anakin shot another meaningful look at Obi-Wan, silently asking him for permission.
Once again, Obi-Wan nodded.
The young Jedi smiled and proceeded to gently trace a line down his palm, making him shiver under his touch. Seeing as Obi-Wan didn't pull away Anakin did it again, brushing lightly against the skin of the other's fingers. He touched them one by one, from the top downwards, then from the tips up to the palm again.
He did slowly, caressing Obi-Wan's left hand with his metal joints, and then did the same thing with the right one. Anakin smiled broadly when, with each gentle stroke, he could see and sense that Obi-Wan relaxed more and more, the tension leaving the muscles of his shoulders and jaw.
It's working!, he thought and sent brief bursts of fondness and encouragement and determination through their bond, which lit up as if on fire. Anakin didn't expect the other to reply, or even acknowledge it, so he was left pleasantly surprised when a hesitant spark of fondness lit up Obi-Wan's end, tinging it the Force equivalent of a pale yellow.
He was getting his man back, one touch at a time.
When he was done, he tapped his right index finger on the other's left wrists, letting him know that he had to unwrap the linen cloths to proceed. Anakin had never seen the point in using them, for him gauntlets worked just fine, but Ahsoka wore them too so it probably meant that the added padding was useful in battle.
"I need these to come off, can I do it? Or you prefer to do it on your own?" Anakin asked quietly, rubbing small circles on his arm with his thumb. Obi-Wan exhaled and smiled, looking up at him from under soft locks of auburn hair. It was a shy smile, a careful attempt at one, but it was still progress.
"You can, my love. It's okay." the older man replied, shrugging. The endearments were back too, a clear sign that Obi-Wan wasn't on edge anymore and had started enjoying being the one taken care of, something he allowed very rarely. Anakin nodded and pushed back his wide sleeves to reach the loose knots that kept the arm wraps in place and undo them.
The cloth came off easily and, only in a second moment, Anakin noticed just how tight it had been wrapped around Obi-Wan's forearms, leaving red marks on his fair skin that looked painful to the sight.
"Obi-Wan …" Anakin breathed. He wasn't surprised, for he knew the older Jedi sometimes did it without realizing it, but he had thought that after he had pointed it out to him Obi-Wan had stopped doing it.
"I know, I - I think it was subconscious. As if I knew today would be stressful and I would need something else to distract myself with," Obi-Wan replied, clearly embarrassed.
"You could have asked me to give you the pebble, it helps me when I'm fidgety," Anakin murmured and rotated his arms to assess the damage. It could be worse, but it definitely wasn't pleasant. "Does it hurt?"
Obi-Wan frowned and looked down to where Anakin was carefully holding his wrist with his thumb and middle finger. "Not too much."
He nodded and moved his hand upward, then shot a look back at the other. "Flesh or mechno?"
"Flesh, it's okay, really."
And so Anakin started massaging his reddened skin with slow movements, using all of his fingers to smooth the painful folds that the arm wraps had left behind. A couple of times Obi-Wan hissed softly through his teeth, when Anakin found a particularly sensitive patch of skin, but dismissed his worries with a wave of his other hand, motioning him to go on as if nothing had happened.
Left arms first, then right, the young Jedi worked his way to Obi-Wan toned biceps, which flexed rhythmically under his touch. He caressed them a couple of times before slowly sliding both his hands back down to Obi-Wan's palms, where he stopped to intertwine their fingers together.
"Feeling better?" Anakin asked, almost unnecessarily. It was quite a sight, the one in front of him: Obi-Wan had tilted his head back and closed his eyes, bliss resonating in his Force signature. He was so beautiful like that, all the hard lines gone from around his eyes and mouth, and looked so much younger than he really was.
For a second, Anakin wondered what the both of them would look like now, had they been regular civilians. Would Obi-Wan have let his hair grow freely, well past his shoulders? Would he?
The other hummed in assent before tilting his head to the side, smiling at him with only one side of his mouth.
"Please, proceed, Knight Skywalker."
Anakin laughed and put both his hands on the other's shoulders, only to immediately slide them down his back, fingers - flesh and mechno alike - spread wide to cover as much surface as possible. It was much appreciated, for Obi-Wan breathed deeply and leaned slightly into his touch, another step forward to what was normal between them. Still, Anakin didn't take it as an invitation to get closer, yet, and stayed where he was as he slid his hands back up to the other's shoulder blades.
"You always scold me for slouching but stars, Obi-Wan, you're a bundle of nerves here," he chided, working the tension away from his muscles, pressing down everywhere he felt they were most pulled. The other man scoffed but didn't say anything, groaning quietly every time Anakin found a painful spot. "You need to take some time off, old man,"
"Isn't 'taking some time off' what we're doing right now, my dear?"
"I'll be the judge of that, if you don't mind." he replied, matter-of-factly, before moving his hands back down to circle Obi-Wan's waist, which made him exhale softly. Anakin grinned and rubbed his thumbs over the protruding hedges of his hips - Obi-Wan wasn't wearing his utility belt so there was just soft, light fabric under Anakin's hands.
He asked for permission once again, through their bond this time, which made Obi-Wan smile brightly at him, his gray-blue eyes shining. Then, feeling confident again, Obi-Wan personally guided his hands up his stomach and chest, stopping when they reached his bare neck.
"You're so beautiful," Anakin heard himself say, almost unintentionally. Not that he didn't mean it - Force knew he did - but the ease with which it slipped out took him by surprise. It was an undeniable truth uttered just between two heartbeats, while he was busy tracing the soft lines of Obi-Wan's jaw and neck, rubbing his left knuckles on the man's neatly trimmed beard, being nothing short of mesmerized by just how gorgeous the other was.
"You're a terrible liar, you know that?" Obi-Wan whispered, leaning into his touch as he cupped the back of his head and buried his fingers in that soft, auburn ocean. Anakin played with his hair, curling it and then smoothing back down, loving the feeling of its silken texture against his skin.
"I may be, but not when it comes to you." he replied, focused on the lines he was now tracing over Obi-Wan's eyebrows, eyelids and cheekbones. Anakin knew the other's body by heart, having discovered every little niche a long time ago, but for some reason it felt like he was learning about it for the first time. He already knew how many freckles Obi-Wan had over his nose and under his eyes, where his white tufts of hair started, the exact way his mouth curved when he was happy, or how the skin around his eyes creased when he was thinking.
He knew how soft his lips were, how his beard would scratch against his cheeks when they kissed, or how it would taste - the bitterness of Obi-Wan's favourite tea still lingering. But he wanted to refresh his memory, and maybe add some new details he had previously missed.
Anakin cupped the older man's face and tilted his head to the side, eyes fixed on his mouth, which was slightly parted.
"Can I kiss -" he tried to ask but Obi-Wan was faster: he wrapped his arms around Anakin's midsection and drew him near, the distance between them zeroed in an instant. And just like that, everything was as it should have been, the Force humming pleasantly around them as they kissed, slowly. They weren't in any hurry, and took all the time they knew they had to merge their souls together.
It was a sweet, well-rehearsed dance, their bodies moving in tandem as they pressed them closer and closer. Obi-Wan lifted on his toes to be able to sit on the counter, Anakin helping him without ever leaning away from the kiss, his hands resting over the other's tights.
It felt so good in the Force, and so right, that Anakin wondered why the Jedi were so hellbent on forbidding attachments of all kinds, romantic or not. Couldn't they feel the utter peace? The sense of belonging? How the Force was clearer and easier to navigate and decipher, instead of the usual, clouded mess?
Maybe it was something only Anakin experienced, and deep down he knew that such a thing could only last as long as he and Obi-Wan didn't fight and decided to never keep secrets from one another. As long as neither of them got hurt badly, or mortally.
But Anakin could hope, and bask in Obi-Wan's signature for as long as he could.
They leaned back after a while, smiling at each other, and pressed their foreheads together. Once again, Anakin felt the need to tell Obi-Wan he was handsome, and pretty, that every inch of him was perfect, as if carved out of a piece of marble by a sculptor. He was aware that it probably sounded cheesy, but he also didn't really care, nor would get tired of repeating it. Ever.
"I'm nothing special, my love" Obi-Wan chuckled as he stroked his thumb over Anakin's cheekbone. He was always doing that, turning down compliments and every kind of praise, and it wasn't a way of making himself look humbler (even though he was, humble), rather it was due to his lack of self-confidence which prevented him from acknowledging that to Anakin's eyes, he was indeed perfect.
"But you are!" he insisted, pouting slightly. "For example, your eyes are the colour of the winter sky,"
Obi-Wan laughed heartily at that and shook his head, exasperated. "They're dull and gray, you're quite right about that,"
Anakin gasped loudly, outraged, and took a step backwards to look at the older Jedi squarely in the eyes, his arms crossed over his chest; he was getting tired of the other not believing him, and it pained him to be able to sense that, in the Force, Obi-Wan seemed to grow duller when he forced himself to brush away his words.
"No! They're kind, and deep, and I could get lost in them for hours, trying to chase the clouds away," he didn't know where all that poetry was coming from, but he suspected that it was the Force, talking through him. The energy created by all living things, that bound the universe together and had willed the two of them to fall in love, for everything happened for a reason and they had probably been meant to be. Hadn't they?
"You always say that I'm the sun in your life, right? That my signature is the brightest you have ever come across. Well, what is a sun without his sky?" Anakin murmured, cupping Obi-Wan's face with his hands. The man he loved was, for once, speechless and looked at him like he was nothing short of a Force-induced vision, his lips slightly parted, blue eyes alight with emotions.
Anakin smiled and touched the tip of his nose, which Obi-Wan immediately scrunched by reflex.
Adorable.
"You're the calming presence in my life, simmering me down when I get too heated, while I hype you up and dare you to try things you wouldn't even think of doing if it wasn't for me," he stopped to brush a lock of auburn hair away from the other man's his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. "And your skin? It's pale and soft like a flower blossom, while your hands are strong and bear the scars of all those times you fought to save those you love. Me chief among them, much to your dismay,"
Anakin kissed his scarred knuckles first, one by one, then pressed their lips back together. He kissed him deeply, bridging the distance between them, and sent wave after wave of everything he felt through their bond, making the air around them quiver and sing and curl with every ripple of love that flowed from them.
"I may be bright like the sun, all passion and recklessness, but you are the moon, because you help me find my way through the darkness," he whispered, breathing softly. "You're always there, Obi-Wan, ready to catch me when I stumble, even when I'm lost in the storm and I feel like there's no way out."
Anakin, close as he was to him, was almost blinded by Obi-Wan's sudden burst of happiness and had to catch his breath before tightening his grasp around the other's waist.
"Because it means that at the end of the day I get to say 'I love you' one more time, and that's why I never back away from a challenge, dear one, no matter how hard or impossible it seems. Because I love you, so much that mere words would never do it justice."