20 Days of Obikin Challenge, Day 3: Hurt/Comfort

As expected, the work week kinda kicked my butt when it came to writing, but I’ll catch up!

Rating: T

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Anakin is…lost.  Well, no, he’s technically not lost, he’s in a little nook on the Vigilance, a charging station for cleaning droids that’s currently not being used.  But it gets him out of easy sight in the corridors, and he doubts anyone will look for him here.  As far as he knows Ahsoka is in her own quarters, and Obi-Wan is on the bridge.

(Does the man ever sleep?  He must do so at some point, right?  Come to think of it, Anakin hasn’t actually seen him so much as nap since the clone wars started.)

He’s shoved himself back into the niche in the wall, kneeling with his hands folded in his lap and his back held rigidly straight.  The posture is difficult to hold, and his muscles have started to quiver with the strain.  It’s submissive, it’s controlled, and he can’t seem to bring himself to break it.  How long has he been out here?  Hours?  Something like that.  It’s a long trip back to Coruscant, and he’s planning to spend it all just like this.  The ache in his knees and his back are just enough to make it impossible for him to think.

There’s no way he’s going to confront what just happened.  He’d never thought he could fall back into that headspace so quickly, hadn’t felt this helpless since he’d become a Jedi.  It’s ridiculous, and weak, and he shoves his shoulders back to throw off the thoughts.

Footsteps in the corridor draw his attention, and he holds his breath, waiting for the person to walk right by him.  Instead they stop, and Obi-Wan seats himself on the floor, facing him.

Anakin squints at him, hands curling into fists on his thighs.  He knows he’d had it easier than his former Master, kept like a prized pet at the queen’s side rather than sent to hard labor or dangled over the Zygerrian city in a cage—

The image of his Padawan in those bars with that…that thing standing over her with an electrostaff in its hand sends a wave of bloody rage through him, and he looks away before Obi-Wan can see it in his eyes.  There’s a long, uncomfortable silence.  Anakin tucks his head so he’s somewhat shielded behind his hair, and pretends he has no idea the other man is there.

“Will you come out here, please?”

It’s a request, not an order.  Anakin wavers for a second.  He wants to, wants to launch himself at Obi-Wan and reassure himself that they’re both free.  More than that, though, he needs to refuse, just to prove he can.  He shakes his head, scoots backwards.  

Obi-Wan doesn’t push, just crosses his legs and settles in.  Anakin peers at him through his fringe.  “You’re going to get stepped on out there.”

“Mmhmm.”  He shrugs, apparently unconcerned, and doesn’t move.  “I thought you needed company.  And I don’t think I’d fit in there with you.”

“Maybe I don’t want company,” Anakin spits at him, anger flaring at the assumption—

“I can leave if you want, then.”

Does anything ever ruffle him?  Anakin’s suddenly determined to find out.  He tries to lunge out at him—and instead folds over as his muscles cramp up after too long locked in one position.  He lands in Obi-Wan’s lap, gentle hands on his shoulders.  The other man doesn’t laugh at him, but he can feel his amusement through their bond, and it does nothing to help his sense of humor.

“I’ll take that to mean you want me to stay?”

Anakin lifts one hand in a rude gesture, but he doesn’t pull away.  This feels…nice.  One of Obi-Wan’s hands finds his hair, petting lightly.  It’s more affection than his Master usually gives him, and he can’t help but think it might be purely out of pity.  Yet the creeping feeling that his body no longer belongs to him is fading with every moment, and on impulse he reaches up to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and pull himself closer.

Now both hands are in his hair, stroking and pulling lightly.  His face is shoved into Obi-Wan’s robes, surrounded by the smell of tea and his Master’s sweat and a hint of burned hair (did he get himself electrocuted again?  Most likely.).  Obi-Wan leans forward, and there’s just a hint of tremor in his voice.  “I’m so glad to have you back safe, dear one.”

The phrasing should seem possessive, but there’s nothing but love in Obi-Wan’s force presence, and Anakin revels in it.  He knows he needs far too much, shouldn’t crave touch so much that physical contact is practically melting him with contentment, but right now that doesn’t matter.  All that matters is Obi-Wan, and Anakin, and both of them together.

The Way Home

20 Days of Obikin Challenge, Day 2: “Hold me, just for a bit, okay?”

2 for 2!  But now it’s my work week so the momentum may be hard to keep up.

Rating: T

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This is a bad idea.  This is a very bad idea.  Which is honestly a thought Obi-Wan has frequently around Anakin.  But this might break some kind of record.  They’re in the middle of both the 212th and 501st, separated from several hundred clones by nothing but too-thin cloth.  Anyone could walk in at any point.  In fact, people are in and out all the time, updating the Generals to every development in their little corner of Outer Rim hell.

The cot is only meant for one, and sharing it means that he’s more than half underneath Anakin’s heavy body.  He’d done his usual grumbling as he rearranges himself around ridiculous long limbs, but they both know it’s mostly performative at this point.  Anakin’s tactile nature comes out when they’re in the field, and Obi-Wan quickly learned that if he didn’t indulge him now and again then he ended up with an increasingly clingy Jedi Knight constantly underfoot.  So, purely in the interest of keeping the grand army of the Republic running smoothly, he no longer tried to kick Anakin out of his tent at night.

That was before things started getting so very out of control.  Before there was Anakin’s lips against his neck and the weight of a hand on the small patch of bare skin between his shirt and trousers.  His heart is beating far too fast, thumping in his throat, and he’s sure Anakin can feel it.  “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

That hand doesn’t move, but Anakin lets out a shaky sigh before propping his chin up on Obi-Wan’s collarbone and looking down at him.  “I don’t know.”

Of course he doesn’t.  But he’s trembling against Obi-Wan and his wide eyes look so vulnerable and Obi-Wan works his arms around his body to hold him closer without even thinking.  They’ve both had a hard day, lost far more men than anyone expected, and only to be driven back again and again from their objective.  Pinned under and surrounded by Anakin, so close that nothing else in the galaxy matters besides the heartbeat against his ribs and the wash of breath over his skin—Obi-Wan needs this too.

At some point in the last few years Anakin’s gotten much too big to just manhandle where Obi-Wan wants him, but he manages.  Some lifting and shoving aligns their bodies, foreheads pressed together, sharing air.  Anakin’s shirtless—he’s had the weird aversion to sleeping fully clothed as long as Obi-Wan has known him—and the places where their skin meets feels like sparks.  His thighs are parted around Anakin’s hips, but there’s no urgency.  No rush.  Just the heat of Anakin’s stuttered exhale against his lips and the way his curls feel tangled in Obi-Wan’s fingers.

“Master, please,” he whispers, and Obi-Wan suppresses a shudder with some difficulty, deciding that reaction is something to be examined some other time.  “Please just hold me.  Just for a bit.  Please?”

“Of course.”  As if he could ever deny Anakin anything.

They fall asleep with Anakin’s chin hooked over his shoulder, his nose mashed into the pillow in a way that looks incredibly uncomfortable, and Obi-Wan sleeps better than he has in a very long time.

Interlude

20 Days of Obikin Challenge Day 1: “I’ve got you.  Breathe, okay?  I’ve got you.”

Well lets see how many of these I can actually get out in the 20 days!  This’ll be good for me.  Read on AO3 or below on tumblr!

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There are times when it’s clear Anakin Skywalker isn’t completely human. 

Obi-Wan’s fairly certain that the only people who have really noticed are himself, Ahsoka, and a few of the clones of the 501st.  No one else gets so close to Anakin in battle, close enough to see the way his pupils blow out and his breath slows until it’s barely there and he moves like he’s only barely tethered to reality.  Like with the slightest push he’d lose himself to the Force that wraps around him like a cyclone, dragging in the eyes of every creature that’s even the slightest bit sensitive.

The power he radiates is dangerous, and a bit intoxicating.  It’s so easy to get caught up in his wake, dragged along into a frontal assault that by all rights should end with all of them dead but somehow never does.  And then when they’re left in the smoking remains of whatever stronghold they’d been sent to take, Anakin shuts down.  Stands in the middle of wreck and ruin and just…stares at something no one else can see with those dark, empty eyes, unnaturally still.

It’s not so common a thing that anyone expects it to happen.  No one wants to approach him when he’s like this.  No one except, of course, Obi-Wan.  He picks his way through smoldering debris, puts himself in his former Padawan’s line of sight, and nudges him in the Force.

“Anakin.  Anakin, come back now.”

After the first time they witness it the clones always give them a wide berth, evidently unwilling to intrude on such intimacy between their commanders.  Even Ahsoka finds somewhere else to be, but Obi-Wan’s seen the way she looks at Anakin when he’s like this.  She is scared, unsure what to make of her Master in this state.  Jittery with those too-wide eyes on her, unwilling to meet that vacant gaze.  She will only approach once Obi-Wan has his attention.

“Anakin, I’ve got you.  Breathe, okay?  Breathe now.”

There’s a small part of Obi-Wan that loves the feeling of Anakin’s focus in these moments.  For once his Padawan is still and quiet and every bit of him is centered on Obi-Wan’s words.  He does as he’s told, ribs expanding suddenly in a gasping inhale, as if he’d forgotten he needs oxygen.  His pupils contract back down, blue eyes unfocused and lost until they find Obi-Wan’s face.  He blinks once, twice, and now Obi-Wan reaches out to touch, both hands on Anakin’s shoulders, holding him to reality.

“I’ve got you.”

Anakin smiles, he always does, and for that briefest of moments his shields slip and there’s an instant of possessive, insistent joy that Obi-Wan never comments on.  They’re both keyed up and shaking and alive and he’s not about to break the fragile balance.  

Whatever Anakin is, whatever the Force has shaped into a semblance of humanity, Obi-Wan loves him, and he will always be there to bring him back.

Aftermath