Work Text:
“Master, uhm, could you help-”
Anakin’s voice rang out across the table, cracking abruptly and startling Obi-Wan.
Glancing upwards, Obi-Wan caught his padawan interrupting himself with a swift snap of his jaw. A flush steadily climbed up Anakin’s neck, and the boy nearly twitched under Obi-Wan’s gaze. The color mottling his cheeks and tips of his ears revealed just how aware Anakin was of his predicament; Obi-Wan’s attention had been drawn to him and, apparently, his numerous problems. Obi-Wan struggled internally for a moment; Anakin was so often incredibly easy to tease, and nothing could coax a laugh out of Obi-Wan like the frustrated pout that would furrow Anakin’s brow at his master’s provocation. However, Obi-Wan mused with a suppressed sigh, he truly seemed to be having an intense duel with the flimsi crumpled under his hand.
Obi-Wan bounced one crossed leg over the other, flicking his eyes away for a moment to control his laughter, and made the decision to confront Anakin’s homework rather than mock the boy’s voice breaking. As delightfully fun as that would be, Obi-Wan thought with a stifled chuckle.
Uncrossing his legs, Obi-Wan leaned forward and arched his eyebrow pointedly at Anakin. The teasing smirk gracing his lips immediately disappeared, though, when his padawan flinched backwards a centimeter under the attention. Anakin corrected himself quickly, chest heaving under his loose robes, and the emotion that swept across his face set Obi-Wan’s gut churning. He watched closely as Anakin fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, teeth marks littering the poor wooden piece, and proceeded to avoid eye contact.
Promptly swallowing any teasing comments back against his dry mouth, Obi-Wan scrabbled for purchase in what had become a silent conversation. He was distantly aware of his padawan’s past, of the trials Anakin had endured at such a young age, and opted to allow the boy to talk about it when he felt comfortable. Inevitably, Obi-Wan had to piece together what he could from the brief descriptions Anakin would share. Horridly vivid nightmares plagued him, and he whispered to Obi-Wan in the dead of night through layers of his master’s tear-drenched robe, only to fall silent and shake his head. Something malicious was at play here, in the hunched shoulders of his boy, in the slow, steadying breaths he was clearly attempting to hide.
Finally feeling his mouth flood with saliva again, Obi-Wan addressed Anakin softly, “May...may I ask what subject it is you’re battling so intensely, padawan?” It was a poor attempt at humor-something that would normally receive, at the very least, an offended scoff from the boy. They both heard it fall flat before it had even left Obi-Wan, and the man felt as though he should kick himself. Unfortunately, he was forced to realize that his foot was already in his mouth.
Anakin peered up at his master nervously and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice that his blonde bangs had caught in equally light lashes. When have we last cut his hair? Obi-Wan thought, a fondness welling up inside his chest and squeezing incessantly as he fought the urge to brush Anakin’s hair back. No. There was no use focusing on that.
No, there was no reason to strike up another debate with himself over whether he had grown attached and whether the Council will find out and willhelosehimand-
His padawan was distressed about his homework. Obi-Wan was able to handle homework, and easily, if the flimsi covered in scrawled Basic peeking out from underneath Anakin’s hands was any indication. Wide blue eyes continued to stare at him from across the table, and Obi-Wan steeled himself as the boy hesitantly began speaking again.
“I just. See. Okay. I keep trying but…My head hurts looking at it, and your writing. Well. I-I can understand it, when it’s your writing, Master, so I was just thinking if maybe. You? Write it out? It’d be easier to take notes on…?” The words tumbled from Anakin’s mouth, his ears growing impossibly redder by the second. “BUT, uhm, I know you’re probably really busy!! So I was gonna just not. Ask.” He bit his lip again, eyes squeezing shut before he opened one to look at Obi-Wan guiltily.
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rocketed to his hairline. It seemed, today, they would both simply continue to ignore what writhed under the surface of Anakin’s mind and kept their force bond so tense. The knots in Obi-Wan’s back temporarily relaxed.
Unwillingly, he felt that deep affection for his padawan squeeze tighter. An attempt to breathe through his nose was made, but it seemed nothing could quite wrangle his emotions into something resembling calm. No, he definitely was not attached. He was not attached, Force damn it, let him be! Anakin just had a lovely penchant for eliciting unwanted emotions from Obi-Wan, it was entirely out of his control. Yes. Good. Next thought. Where was he?
As it was, he could hardly handle watching Anakin suffer and hide. Having his own traitorous emotions thrown into the mix had him fighting the overwhelming urge to find the nearest bottle of alcohol. Taking another cleansing breath, Obi-Wan settled his elbows onto the table and felt his chin tremble with the effort to keep the doting smile off his face.
“Is that all? My, my, Anakin! I was afraid you were going to ask me to help you with that dreadful arithmetic with the way you were staring at me.”
Despite his best efforts, Obi-Wan still felt the corner of his lips twitch as he spoke, an honest-to-Force grin overwhelming his face when Anakin instantly perked up. Stumble as they may, Obi-Wan felt they were going about this all as well as they could, and experienced a deep gratification at his padawan’s joy.
Really, there had been no guide given to him; he was handed a brilliant light in the force and told to raise it. It often felt as though he couldn’t give enough to the boy, quietly defying his own masters in order to bring some measure of happiness to Anakin. It was an indulgence, of sorts. One he felt as though he couldn’t afford. Yet. And yet. He allowed it to happen. He was definitely being tested. Any day now he’ll be struck over the head by Yoda in the dead of night, the cane paralyzing him as the old frog announces that Obi-Wan simply cannot be a Jedi, not with the way he hoards Anakin’s affections to himself. This test, he was failing.
How funny that with every genuine smile Anakin threw his way, he cared less and less about the Council’s opinion.
Obi-Wan really needed that alcohol, in fact.
---------------------------------------------------------
Following their discussion about Anakin’s homework demons, a new rule was made; during Anakin’s allotted time to tear around their shared quarters between classes and meditation, Obi-Wan would carefully copy down Anakin’s homework questions. At the end of each day, they would sit down to eat dinner and work through their collective flimsiplasts together. To their shared surprise, Anakin’s request paid off; his Basic became neater by the day, and the amount of questions he would rattle off to Obi-Wan seemed to deplete rapidly.
Within days, Obi-Wan’s pride in his padawan and perceived new bouts of relaxation dampened. He found himself inexplicably missing all of Anakin’s commentary. Now, with homework being finished sooner, Anakin would scamper off to his room to tinker with droid parts, or visit the gardens to lay about in the grass. He understood, of course, that since the boy had come from a desert planet, greenery would never become a sight taken for granted. And the droids were his specialty, nothing to be done there.
Still. He sat staring at the ceiling every night, mulling over his thoughts and coming to no conclusions. For all his past whining, Obi-Wan found himself missing the scuffing of Anakin’s boots as he sat at the too tall chair every night, poring over his homework for hours. His frustrated sighs and giggles of delight as he accomplished something new... Even the silly doodles of what Obi-Wan could only assume were himself and Anakin that lined the margins of the flimsi.
Obi-Wan did not request those homework assignments back to squirrel those drawings away. It was in the name of checking Anakin’s progress. He did not see the teacher frown at him disapprovingly.
Well.
This was getting terribly close to attachment, now wasn’t it? He should meditate on these feelings.
Yes, that would help.
Nothing quite prepared Obi-Wan to be confronted head on with his emotions, though, after so many hours spent in the Room of a Thousand Fountains stifling them.
Anakin, as per his usual, had been rushing out of his classroom to meet Obi-Wan, and in the process tripped over his own feet, propelling himself into Obi-Wan’s stomach. With an alarmed “oof!”, he caught the boy, lifting Anakin’s small frame from under his armpits and placing him firmly on the ground. Briefly, he flashed to the doodles of them holding hands and brandishing lightsabers with sloppily drawn grins. Before he could stop himself, in a moment he later categorized as immensely weak and entirely un-Jedi-like, he slipped his hand into Anakin’s.
“Wouldn’t want you to fall again, now would we?” He coughed at Anakin’s starry-eyed look, squeezing the minuscule palm he held and marveling at just how small the boy was. Anakin could only nod and squeeze back, pressing himself into Obi-Wan’s side with a soft, content sigh.
Yes, Obi-Wan thought deliriously, he simply could not be a true Jedi. But, he was finding it to be acceptable if he had Anakin by his side.