Work Text:
Padmé frowned and scanned the screen in front of her, tapping the keyboard with one hand whilst balancing a mug of tea in the other. She knew she should not have left it until the morning to prepare for today. Chancellor Palpatine always had an uncanny knack of homing directly in on any weak points in her research. Padmé was usually careful to spend the evening before a Senate Anti-Corruption Committee meeting reading every scrap of information she could find.
But then the activities of the previous evening had certainly been much more enjoyable than studying the holonet for gossip on middle-aged senators and their distasteful habits.
Alone in the living room of her apartment, Padmé found herself blushing as she took a sip of the hot, fragrant tea. Certain members of the holorazzi would have sold their souls to the Sith for a peek inside Senator Amidala's bedchamber last night.
Fortunately, the bullet-proof shutters on her window had been firmly closed. And locked too. She had seen to that herself.
A few minutes later the door at the opposite side of the room opened and out strode a half-naked Jedi. Obi-Wan grinned at her as he ran a hand through his damp hair, and her gaze travelled appreciatively down from his face to the small white towel wrapped around his hips.
Biting her lip, she dragged her eyes back to the screen.
"Working already?"
"I have a breakfast meeting at eight."
"What time is it now?"
"Just after seven."
"Blast!" Obi-Wan strode quickly across the room to the pile of discarded tan robes on the sofa.
"Problem?"
"I'm already late for a briefing," Obi-Wan said, holding up his crumpled tunic in disgust.
Amusement tweaked at Padmé's lips. "I'll get them laundered for you this morning."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "And send me to the Temple naked?" Casually he tugged the towel from his hips and began to use it to dry his hair.
Padmé found herself blushing. She looked away again, suddenly intent on a particularly scintillating e-mail on fire regulations from a fastidious, if over-enthusiastic, Representative Binks.
"I'm not sure if they are quite ready for that." She hoped she had managed to sound casual. Pushing her chair back she stood up and walked past him, trying to pretend her eyes did not linger on the firm curve of his now-quite-gloriously-naked behind. "No, I have a spare set of your clothes somewhere, from that time you two saw it fit to call here directly from that mission to Dagobah, do you remember?"
Obi-Wan chuckled. "Ah yes... that."
Padmé crossed the room to him, holding out a neatly-folded stack of cream and beige robes. Pleading the heat not to rise in her cheeks again, she focused on his face, and those ever-changing eyes that this morning were calm and grey. Last night they had been midnight blue with desire.
Just like her husband's.
She glanced towards the bedchamber door.
"He's still asleep." Obi-Wan's fingers, smooth and warm from the shower, brushed her hand as he took the clothes from her and placed them on the couch.
"Thank you."
She turned her head to find those eyes much closer than before. "You're welcome."
Padmé smiled shyly. Something about being alone with Obi-Wan always made her feel like a gangly teenager, awkward and unsure of herself. Even if outwardly, the Padmé Amidala the galaxy knew had never been any of those things.
Obi-Wan smiled down at her gently. "There is no need to be uneasy around me, Padmé." His breath tickled her neck as his lips moved to her ear. "You certainly were not uneasy last night."
When he pulled back and saw her frown his expression grew serious. "Regrets?"
Padmé shook her head. "No. It's just this arrangement... well it will take some getting used to."
"Of course." Obi-Wan replied, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "And I look forward to the getting used to it part immensely."
He bent to kiss her then, a finger reaching out to tilt her chin, encouraging her to meet his mouth with her own.
It was strange, she thought, closing her eyes as his lips drifted lazily across hers, to be doing this now, just the two of them, something she had wanted for longer than he was aware of. Something she had fantasised about all those years ago, when she was young and innocent. Before Anakin. No wonder the man intimidated her.
And Padmé was a woman not used to being intimidated. It made her feel unsettled.
But now she yearned to deepen the kiss, to lean into Obi-Wan, to let him have, quite frankly, whatever he wanted, right here, in her living room.
All too soon Obi-Wan pulled away.
"Sorry darling. Better get dressed."
She nodded, putting a finger to touch her own lips as she turned back to her desk.
Obi-Wan wrapped on layers of tunics efficiently as she scrolled through e-mails once again, not really reading them, distracted by the taste of him on her lips, wondering if he could hear her heat thumping in her chest.
He was pulling on his boots as the bedroom door opened again.
"Hey." Anakin yawned and stretched his arms above his head, feline and sleepy in dark-blue pyjama pants and ruffled hair. "Have you had breakfast? I'm starving." He strode to Padmé, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek before continuing past her into the kitchen.
Obi-Wan headed to the door. "No time," he called out. "I'm already late."
Anakin came back into the room, a mug of tea in one hand, muji fruit in the other. "You're abandoning us?" He took a bite of the fruit then placed both items on the table and walked over to Obi-Wan.
"Some of us have work to do, Anakin." Obi-Wan said, one hand on the door. "Padmé has a meeting too."
"Hmm." Anakin's tongue flicked out to catch a stray droplet of fruit juice on his lip and Padmé watched with amusement as Obi-Wan swallowed nervously. "And you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" Anakin continued. He took a step towards the other man.
"I-" Obi-Wan hesitated as Anakin's hand reached up to run a finger over the vee at the neck of his impeccably-arranged tunics.
Anakin suddenly looked confused. "I hope you didn't have my wife ironing for you this morning, did you?"
At the other side of the room Padme gave a derisive snort. "He can be very persuasive, Anakin, but not that persuasive."
"Good." Anakin said, advancing on Obi-Wan and placing a hand on the door at either side of the shorter man's head. "Because it would have all gone to waste."
Padmé's smile turned into a grin. Obi-Wan was practically pinned to the door.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak. "Ana-" But his protest was muffled by Anakin kissing him.
Padmé restrained a giggle as Anakin’s hands mussed up Obi-Wan's hair, body shamelessly grinding the other man into the door with a firmness that left no doubt as to what the state of Obi-Wan's tunics would be in when they broke apart.
Although, Padmé observed wryly, Obi-Wan did not seem to be too concerned, since his perfectly-manicured fingers now appeared to be gripping Anakin's ass just as forcefully as his former Padawan was kissing him.
Anakin eventually pulled back, grinning and breathing heavily. He reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear, ignoring the fluffy red-blond mess that was sticking out at the other side. Composing his face into a serious expression, Anakin smoothed a hand down the now-heavily creased material covering Obi-Wan's chest, shaking his head and tutting. "You'd better go Master, or you'll be late."
Obi-Wan groaned and irritably swatted Anakin's hand away, muttering as he attempted to smooth down his clothes before fumbling for the door.
"You'll be the death of me Anakin Skywalker..."
But the disapproval in Obi-Wan's voice was belied by the smile that flashed across his face just before he disappeared into the corridor.
Anakin chuckled as he sauntered back over to Padmé. "I try my best, Master."
Padmé propped her chin in her hand and watched her husband with amusement, love, and just a little bit of gratitude.
As the door slid shut behind Obi-Wan, Anakin perched on the edge of Padmé's desk and reached out a hand to cup his wife's soft cheek. "He's not quite as stuffy as he would have people believe, you know."
"So I gathered." Padmé smiled. It might take someone a lifetime of study to unravel the mystery that was Obi-Wan Kenobi. A few had tried. Most had failed.
But she was lucky. She had a way to cheat. She could learn from an expert.
Padmé stood up and slid round the desk, fitted herself between Anakin's thighs, leaning in to place a kiss in the crook of his neck and slide her arms around his waist. "Mmm," she murmured, snuggling into his warmth, breathing in his sleepy scent, the scent of home.
Anakin sighed contentedly and drew her deeper into his embrace. "So how about that breakfast..."