Chapter Text
Anakin Skywalker was not a man known for his subtlety.
He believed that the truth was the best route to go, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable. Lying and subtle manipulations was for the politicians and the businessmen, the snakes in the grass who belied their truths with slights of hands in their speech, and a disarming smile to go along with it all.
Besides, there was rarely ever a reason for subtlety in Anakin’s line of work. Most battle droids didn’t understand it even if it bludgeoned them over the head. What they did understand was the swing of a lightsaber and the deciding use of the Force. Why try to evade and manipulate when the end was always the same - a bunch of destroyed droid parts at his feet and the blistering feeling of triumph in his chest?
Not to mention, the people he interacted with either appreciated his blunt, sometimes rude approach, and if they didn’t - which was most of the time - they went to speak to someone who was better at biting their tongue. Anakin didn’t like the feel of a swollen tongue in his mouth.
But Anakin had run into a serious problem with this approach to life.
His usual blunt and direct approach to all things had abandoned him suddenly. The steadfast way in which he spoke slipped from his grasp seemingly in the dead of night, the steely gaze he was able to maintain had all but fluttered away, and the dedication he had to sticking to the truth and trusting in his instincts had all but abandoned him. When he needed it the most, Anakin was entirely unable to just say what he meant.
All because he’d decided that he was terribly, irrevocably, utterly head over heels in love with his Master.
He supposed he always had been, in a way, but the realization hadn’t hit Anakin like a rancor’s fist through his chest until one day when he saw Obi-Wan smile.
It had been so subtle, so stupidly simple. One moment Anakin was glaring at his rations pack which had spilled all over the dusty ground in the middle of a mission, and then next he was looking up to see Obi-Wan smiling at him. Kind and patient and so terribly fond. Suddenly, Anakin’s tongue stuck to the top of his mouth, his heart clambered up his chest to stifle his breath, while heat boiling up across his cheeks as he realized, without question, he was in love with Obi-Wan.
His Master; his best friend. His brother, of all people. The one person who he seriously should not be pining over like some lovesick loth-cat, not because of all those prior things but because Obi-Wan was almost as emotionally constipated as Anakin was.
How was anything going to get done about it, if both refused to ever examine their feelings, even under penalty of death?
Suddenly, Anakin’s brash bravado had left him. Suddenly, he could barely look his Master in the eye, where previously he could stun-lock Obi-Wan in a staring contest that only he knew they were playing. Suddenly, any look from Obi-Wan - kind or deeply annoyed - made Anakin’s stomach twist and knees weaken.
Suddenly, Anakin had all the subtlety of Padmé and Chancellor Palpatine - Force, the entire Senate - just when Anakin needed it the least.
He wanted to just tell Obi-Wan how he felt. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and admit to him that he could think of nothing but how Obi-Wan smelled in the morning, like old soap mixed with the caf on his breath and the subtle scent of his own musk just beneath the layers of decorum; how he obsessed over the way Obi-Wan held his datapad, with his grip firm with his right hand, but the left always remained lax on the bottom, his touch both commanding and subtle; how he adored the sound of his voice just before they parted in the evening, soft and exhausted, both fond and somehow still annoyed, the corner of his lips turned up in a smile or down in a defeated frown.
And he wanted to tell him how he obsessed over what Obi-Wan’s beard would feel like across his cheek and down his neck, between his thighs and lower still, tongue slick and firm along his taint while blunted fingertips pressed against his needy hole—
“Ani?”
Anakin startled back to reality. Blinking away the fantasy, he peered at Padmé as she sat across from him in her apartment. Tea cooled between them, the soft perfumed smell of rosehips settling deep into Anakin’s gullet, replacing the phantom taste of Obi-Wan’s come. Shifting in his seat, Anakin placed his tabards on his lap and smiled tightly at Padmé.
“Sorry, Padmé. I was just… thinking.”
Padmé returned the smile, though Anakin felt anything but soothed by it. “I can tell.”
“It’s the war,” he said quickly, trying to detract from his cheeks which he knew were bright red.
“What about the war has gotten you looking so… disheveled?” she asked.
“I’m not disheveled—”
“Right.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Okay.”
Anakin glared at Padmé. She maintained her smile. A moment passed, neither breaking from their stalemate, before Anakin reached for his still too hot tea and took a sip. The liquid burned his tongue, but he held back his yelp. When he looked back up, Padmé was still smiling.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what you're actually thinking about?” Padmé finally asked.
Anakin supposed he could try and keep the ruse up, but it seemed his subtlety only came out when he was confronted with his feelings for Obi-Wan. Otherwise he was, frustratingly, as obvious as a droid army marching up to the gates of the Jedi Temple. And besides, maybe Padmé could help. She was better at these sorts of things, wasn’t she?
Placing his teacup back down, Anakin pressed his flesh thumb into the palm of his mechno-hand, feeling the metal and wires shift subtly beneath the supple leather. Glancing away from her, he stared at his boots and forced his tongue to work. “If you had… intentions toward someone… how would you go about letting them know that you… that you had these intentions?”
“Intentions toward someone?” Anakin could hear the amusement in her tone, and when he looked up her eyes were bright with it. Biting his cheek, Anakin forced his glower to deepen, but it did little to change Padmé’s own expression. “Intentions,” she repeated, as if she didn’t know exactly what he meant.
“Yes,” he said, voice tight.
“And these intentions are romantic in nature?”
“Yes.”
“Like when you tried to seduce me in Naboo?”
The word ‘tried’ hung heavy in the air, and Anakin gritted out his response through clenched teeth. “Yes, tried. Clearly I still need practice.”
Padmé’s expression softened then, and Anakin watched her as she rose and came to sit next to him. Taking his hand away from his palm, she rested it between her own. Her skin was soft and warm, and Anakin tangled his fingers with her before squeezing.
“Is this about Obi-Wan?” she asked quietly.
Anakin stiffened. “How did you know?”
She shrugged and played with the tips of Anakin’s fingers with her free hand, her gaze dropping to watch her own movements. “Because you talk about him all the time, and when you do you get this sweet look on your face, even when you’re clearly annoyed with him. It’s the same look you used to get with me.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“To me, you are. But I don’t think anyone else knows.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
Padmé chuckled and looked back up at Anakin. “Well, I know Obi-Wan definitely isn’t aware.”
Sighing, Anakin nodded. “Therein lies my problem.”
“You could tell him, you know.”
“That would be the non-Jedi thing to do.”
“Jedi can’t be honest with their feelings?”
“Not when the Jedi you love is your Master, and the man you’re supposed to go into battle with each day. Telling him would just… complicate things.”
“So you’re going to what? Seduce him through subtlety and then complicate things when he reciprocates your feelings?”
Anakin smiled tightly. “You think he’s going to reciprocate?”
Rolling her eyes, Padmé let go of Anakin’s hand and reached for her tea. “You’re complicating this more than it needs to be.”
“I just… I don’t want to tell him. I can’t just tell him. I want to… to test the waters. Take him out on a date or something, so I can woo him like I tried to woo you. And then see how it plays out.”
Blowing on the top of her tea, Padmé smiled over the rim of the cup. “Then do what you did with me and take him on a picnic.”
XXX
Obi-Wan had fucked up.
It wasn’t often he did. In fact, Anakin struggled to think back to a time where Obi-Wan had both failed at his objective, and was willing to admit to it. And yet here they were.
They had been sent to a mid-rim planet on what they had both thought to be a wild goose chase. One of the Separatist leaders had been spotted at a mountainside resort, trailed by a small posse of twi’leks, one of whom was an undercover informant for the Republic. When they arrived they’d come as fellow travelers looking for an escape from the trying war, Obi-Wan posing as a weapon’s dealer while Anakin was his assistant - an arrangement Anakin hadn’t entirely agreed to, but had been forced into when he was sent a rather stern look from Obi-Wan during the debrief.
With their covers firmly entrenched they went down to the hotel bar in hopes of finding their informant. As luck had it, they found the entire entourage, the Separatist surrounded by the beautiful women he paid to be seen with. Using the atmosphere to their advantage, Anakin attempted to distract some of the twi’leks with a charm that only came out when he didn’t actually care for the person he was speaking to, while Obi-Wan spoke to their informant, hoping to get an invitation to sit with the Separatist leader in his shadowed booth in the corner of the bar.
But Obi-Wan had somehow managed to completely miss the fact that whoever he was speaking to wasn’t actually their information. Later on, when pressed, Obi-Wan simply said he was distracted by something when he was making first contact. As to what that was, he snapped at Anakin, ordering him not pry any further. Anakin figured it was due to embarrassment, but whatever the cause the result was the same.
The Separatist was informed that two Jedi were looking for him, and off into the valleys he went. And thus they went as well, following a small trail through the tall grasses beneath the steady rise of the morning sun.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Anakin asked as he stumbled behind Obi-Wan, his foot catching on a small root from a nearby shrub.
“For the fifth time - yes,” Obi-Wan replied. He maintained a steady gate as they weaved through the grasses, his suit damp from the morning dew. It was strange to see Obi-Wan on a mission dressed in formal wear. “I can feel his signature in the Force. It’s barely there, but it’s enough.”
Anakin couldn’t feel a damn thing beyond Obi-Wan’s obvious irritation. “And you’re positive we’re not following the trails of local wildlife?”
Obi-Wan’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t lose his pace. “Trust me, Anakin.”
Sucking back a breath and a retort, Anakin maintained his pace behind Obi-Wan with his tongue stuck between his teeth. The sun continued to rise, revealing more of the valley to them. Under the moonlight it was hard to see where they were, but with the pinks of the morning rays on the tips of the tall grasses and the sparse canopies of the trees, Anakin was able to see just how pretty it was.
It was an idyllic setting with calm winds and quiet wildlife - the perfect place for a picnic. As if on cue, Anakin’s stomach growled.
Increasing his pace, Anakin saddled up next to Obi-Wan. “It’s nice here.”
Obi-Wan’s glower didn’t change. “It’s a resort planet for a reason.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m just saying, it’s nice to be able to take in the beauty of a place. We don’t often get the chance.”
“We don’t have that chance right now, Anakin. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re chasing after a Separatist leader.”
“Only because—”
“Don’t say it,” Obi-Wan hissed.
Sighing, Anakin shuffled around in one of his pockets, finding the rations container he’d slipped in before they left for the hotel bar. Glancing around, he noted a tree off in the distance with a large boulder beneath it, with some sort of blue mushrooms growing all around it. When Padmé suggested a picnic, she was probably thinking of something more traditional. But then again, nothing about a Jedi’s life was very traditional - one had to make the best of a situation.
“Hey, Obi-Wan.” Reaching out, Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder, stalling his movements. Turning around, Obi-Wan peered at Anakin through the sunlight. The tip of his nose was already going pink, his cheeks dotted with freckles. Anakin wanted to lick them, but instead staved off his intrusive thoughts and said something normal. “We should take a rest.”
“We don’t have time—”
“We won’t catch him - not if we’re half-asleep and hungry. Wasn’t it you who taught me that the most important part of being a Jedi, is to take care of yourself when on a mission? A sleep deprived, hungry Jedi is a Jedi who makes mistakes. Well, makes more mistakes.”
Obi-Wan didn’t smile. In fact, he looked more than ready to throw away the entire Jedi Code and throttle Anakin right then and there in the middle of the picturesque valley.
“Your anger with me is just a side-effect of being hungry,” Anakin finally said.
Obi-Wan looked ready to argue some more - maybe even commit to the throttling idea - but then he shifted his stance and relaxed slightly, his shoulders slumping beneath the finely tailored cloth. “I suppose you’re right.”
Breaking out into a grin, Anakin pointed to the tree. “We can sit over here. If we’re really hungry, we can try the mushrooms that are growing. What’s the worst that could happen - we start hallucinating?”
“Anakin…”
When Anakin looked at Obi-Wan, he’d stopped glowering. At least there was that.
Making their way toward the tree, Anakin let out a small grunt as soon as he was sitting on the boulder. His feet were aching, the usual boots he donned switched out for a pair of dress shoes that pinched his toes together. Pulling out his ration pellet, Anakin dropped a small cube onto Obi-Wan's open palm before he downed one himself. Immediately the ache in his stomach subsided, and he swallowed another.
With the pain in his legs and the ache in his belly dealt with, Anakin had time to become hyper aware of how close Obi-Wan was. The heat of his shoulder pressed against his own, their thighs almost touching as they rested beneath the shade of the tree. When Obi-Wan had first appeared in his undercover outfit, Anakin had to physically stop himself from saying something entirely inappropriate.
‘You look incredible.’
‘So this is what you look like out of those robes.’
‘I don’t know what I prefer more: you in a suit, or you in a fresher covered in soap.’
‘Can I bury my nose against your neck and breathe you in?’
‘Is that a lightsaber in your trousers, or are you just naturally that big?’
But now, sitting on a rock in the middle of a beautiful valley, the crisp air deep in his lungs and the warmth of Obi-Wan’s body next to his, Anakin felt both brave and stupid once more. Turning slightly to look at Obi-Wan, Anakin took in his profile, admiring how the sunlight caught the amber tones of his hair and the streaks of silver that spread out across his temples.
If he squinted, he could even erase the permanent glower that seemed fixed to Obi-Wan’s features.
“It’s a nice day for a morning,” Anakin said.
Obi-Wan slowly turned to Anakin and looked at him as if he’d grown an extra set of ears. “Excuse me?”
Heat spread across Anakin’s cheeks, and it wasn’t entirely because of the sun. Swallowing down his embarrassment, he let it settle in his gullet before he tried again, as if speaking the words once more would somehow make it better. “I uh, said it’s a nice day for a morning.”
“I… I suppose,” Obi-Wan said slowly. “Mornings normally do come during the daytime.”
“I just… I mean, sometimes we’re so busy on a mission, we don’t have time to appreciate the rising sun.”
The corners of Obi-Wan’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what seemed like decades he finally smiled. “You’re right, Anakin. We don’t often get a chance to soak in the simpler things in life. In fact, it’s… alarming how quickly I’ve been able to push aside the beauty in the galaxy, in order to focus on this war.”
With a soft sigh Obi-Wan turned his attention from Anakin and stared off into the valley. His face changed then; his smile giving way to a pensive expression that drew deep grooves across his face, aging him in a way Anakin didn’t like. Taking a moment longer to admire Obi-Wan, Anakin traced his profile with his eyes, landing on the small beauty mark on the top of his cheek.
“It really is beautiful,” Obi-Wan said.
“Yeah, it is.”
Turning from Obi-Wan, Anakin pressed his hands between his knees and squeezed. The sun continued to rise, casting its light across the tall green grass, highlighting the pockets of bright flowers that sprouted up along the pathways made by both creature and person alike. The air was sweet with the scent of life, and Anakin allowed his busy mind to quiet a moment and soak in the sensation of tranquility.
Perhaps this was what it was like to reach that peace all the other Jedi spoke about with such awe.
“We should probably start making our way back to the town,” Obi-Wan said, his voice breaking through the quiet space.
Blinking back the sun, Anakin turned to Obi-Wan. “I thought—”
“I never had a clue where he’d gone,” Obi-Wan admitted quietly. He smiled ruefully. “I thought maybe I’d pick up something if we just got moving, but either this man is incredibly good at masking himself, or he was never here to begin with.”
“You just needed something to do, didn’t you?”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to fix my mistakes, before I’d have to admit to making any in the first place.”
“There’s no shame in making a mistake, Master. Even you can be wrong from time to time.”
“Oh, I’m not wrong, Anakin. He did run away. I just don’t know where to.”
Rolling his eyes, Anakin matched Obi-Wan’s smile and slid off the rock. “Okay, sure, if that’s the story you want to go with when we write our reports. I’ll say that you took us out into this valley because we needed a sabbatical, and not because you were following the trail of some local fauna.”
Following Anakin, Obi-Wan clasped Anakin’s shoulder. The heat of his hand soaked through Anakin’s suit, and Anakin swallowed down the tremor that swept through him. “There’s a good Padawan.”
The words ‘good’ and ‘padawan’ made Anakin want to moan.
Removing his hand from Anakin’s shoulder, Obi-Wan headed back in the direction they’d come with a decidedly lighter step, leaving Anakin in his compromised state all alone. Swallowing down his whimper, Anakin followed with a limp in his gate.
As far as dates went, Anakin supposed it could have gone worse. Next time, he’d just have to let Obi-Wan know it was a date in the first place.
