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Obi-Wan doesn’t hear Cody come in. In fact, he’s halfway through tugging off his robes when he hears the Commander’s slight cough.
“Er, sorry, sir. I didn’t realize—” Cody breaks off and Obi-Wan flushes, steeling himself. He’s already gotten the thick material most of the way over his head and doesn't see the point in rushing to cover himself, now— not with his wounds like they are. He weighs his options, ultimately deciding that the only thing more mortifying than Cody seeing him in this state is the thought of his Commander having to help him back into his robes.
Obi-Wan gestures vaguely with his shoulder, his hands and arms still preoccupied with his clothes. “It’s quite alright, Commander.” He flinches as Cody approaches, gently helping free his arms from the layers of fabric. “Er. Thank you.”
Cody shrugs and nods towards Obi-Wan’s side. “Looks like the clankers got you pretty good there,” he says. His eyes linger on the wound, still wet with blood. “Must be those new bloody blasters of theirs.”
Obi-Wan makes an affirming noise, wincing as he lowers his arms and twists to inspect the damage. Worse than he thought, but not the worst he’s had by a long shot. He should be able to skip a visit to the medbay proper and take care of it himself. Assuming Cody lets him get away with it, that is.
“You know, some of us wear armor. I hear it’s supposed to help with that.” Obi-Wan shoots Cody a look over his shoulder, but the Commander remains unphased. “Just saying. Sir.”
Obi-Wan resists the urge to roll his eyes, limping towards the medical kit he knows is around here somewhere. Anakin has been angry lately— less inclined to hold back when they spar. They both decided it would be wise to keep basic supplies in the ship’s training room in the event that anything should happen, hoping to avoid raising concern among the clones.
Obi-Wan remembers Cody standing behind him and feels the back of his neck grow hot. Not that that’s worked out. He locates the kit and begins rifling through it, doing his best to ignore the Commander.
Cody snorts. Obi-Wan knows he probably should reprimand him, but he doesn’t. Cody has always been different than the others, no matter how hard Obi-Wan has tried to keep their relationship strictly professional. Something changes when you risk your lives for each other every day, he supposes. In the months they’ve served together, Cody has become more than a friend to Obi-Wan, just as Anakin has become his brother in every way but by blood.
“You’re not planning on bandaging that yourself, are you?” Cody has taken his helmet off and is staring at Obi-Wan, one eyebrow raised in that infuriating way of his.
“I’m sure Briggs already has his hands full,” Obi-Wan replies dismissively. He locates a bacta patch and tears the paper open with his teeth. “I don’t want to waste time he could be using to care for those with more serious injuries.”
“At least let me help, then.”
Obi-Wan stills, unsure of how to reply. The last thing he wants is for Cody to be that close to him, especially while he’s in this state, but he knows his Commander— Cody isn’t going to let up until he’s seen Obi-Wan has been cared for properly. He sighs and sits down, gesturing at the medical kit.
“If you insist.”
Cody sits beside him, taking the bacta patch. “Turn,” he instructs. Obi-Wan does as he’s told. “You should clean it first,” the Commander says. “Don’t tell me you were just planning on sticking this on there and hoping for the best?”
Obi-Wan shrugs defensively. “I thought that— Agh, blast , that stings!”
Cody returns the shrug. The acrid smell of antiseptic burns Obi-Wan’s nostrils. “Sorry, sir. Gotta get this cleaned or you’ll risk infection.” He continues wiping gingerly around the blaster wounds, his hands cold against Obi-Wan’s bare skin. Obi-Wan hisses in pain. “You know, this is why people go to the medbay,” Cody murmurs, but there’s no hard edge to his words. He finishes with the antiseptic and places a bacta patch over the worst of the damage.
“Yes, well.” Obi-Wan stares across the training room, trying to focus on anything but Cody’s hands and his smell and how blasted close he is... He shakes himself. “I suppose I’ve learned my lesson.”
“You never do,” the Commander replies, but his voice seems to have suddenly lost all levity.
Obi-Wan turns to look at him, and with a sinking feeling he realizes what it is that has captured Cody’s attention. The Commander’s eyes are fixed on Obi-Wan’s bare torso.
Obi-Wan knows he isn’t pretty by any means; knows his body is a mess of scars from the damage he’s taken over the years. He long ago made peace with this, as is the way of the Jedi. But something about Cody seeing him like this…it makes him feel ashamed. Vulnerable, even, in a way that he has never quite learned how to be. He notices Cody eyes catching on one of the worst scars— a long, silver gash that runs from his right shoulder to his left hip.
“Ventress,” he explains. Cody makes a soft noise that sounds almost like a growl and Obi-Wan chuckles. “It was a long time ago, Commander,” he says gently. “I can assure you I’m quite alright.”
“What about that one?” Cody asks. He points at a burn mark near Obi-Wan’s left shoulder blade.
“Ventress again,” Obi-Wan admits. “Same time actually, if I’m remembering correctly. She, er…she wanted information I had.” He chuckles again. “I don’t think I need to tell you she isn’t exactly in the habit of asking nicely.” Cody bites out a curse, shaking his head, and Obi-Wan has to fight to conceal his surprise. “I’m alright, Commander,” he repeats, softer this time. He catches Cody’s gaze. “It’s over now.” He moves a fraction of an inch closer, inhaling slightly. “Besides,” he continues, his voice still just above a whisper, “I’m sure you have your fair share of battle scars.” His fingers brush Cody’s chestplate and the Commander flinches slightly.
Obi-Wan recoils quickly. “Er. I apologize, Commander. I don’t know what came over me—”
Cody catches his wrist, cutting him off. Obi-Wan meets his gaze. His Commander’s eyes are dark and serious as he nods ever so slightly. He guides Obi-Wan’s hand back to his chest.
Obi-Wan blinks, taken aback. “Er, Commander…are you sure you—”
“Yes,” Cody rasps, still holding his gaze. He swallows. “If- if you are, I am.”
Obi-Wan studies him for a moment, then nods.
Their hands move together to remove Cody’s armor, and the entire time Obi-Wan feels laid bare despite the fact that Cody is the one being undressed. It’s something about the Commander’s eyes on him; the way he seems to see right through Obi-Wan’s very skin and down into his core. They don’t break eye-contact for a moment, even as they fumble with the armor plates. It’s only when Cody’s torso is fully bared that they stop, breathless.
Obi-Wan lets his eyes drop to the Commander’s chest, to his collarbones, to his shoulders and down his stomach. He drinks in Cody’s bare skin before him— the scars that curl around his side and the bruises that mottle his chest; all the dips and valleys of him.
You’re beautiful, he thinks.
He doesn’t say it.
“Guess I do have my share,” Cody admits, a trace of amusement in his words. “Never was much of a looker anyway.”
“I’d be inclined to disagree, Commander,” Obi-Wan replies carefully. This earns him a smile, and Force, it feels like a soft mattress on aching joints or cool water on angry wounds.
“Think so?”
“Mm,” is all Obi-Wan can manage in reply. Cody laughs gently and Obi-Wan can feel it in the Force; can feel its music thrumming through him.
To hold onto something beyond its time is to set your selfish desires against the way of the Force, he thinks despite himself.
But then he looks at Cody. At the warmth of him. At his dark skin, rough with scars, and his deep brown eyes that have seen so much. Obi-Wan’s eyes trace the arms that have pulled him from the jaws of death time and time again and the curve of the back that has stood pressed against his own through the heat of battle. In the Force between them, he feels the strength of this man he has fought beside for months. The strength of his heart.
If this is wrong, Obi-Wan thinks, biting his lip… If this is wrong, I don’t know how to be right.
He has always been the perfect Jedi. Always done as he was told, always adhered to the Code, even when he thought it might kill him to do so. He has given up so much; let go of so much.
Obi-Wan Kenobi has played the part required of him for so long, and in this moment, he can bear it no longer.
To hold onto something beyond its time, he thinks. Beyond its time…
But he has now. He has this moment.
He looks at Cody, a question in his eyes. Cody nods, and before he can change his mind Obi-Wan is kissing him and kissing him and kissing him. He feels the Force flow through them, and this is stronger than any meditation; stronger than anything he’s ever felt.
This is the Force, Obi-Wan thinks, his hungry lips fighting for purchase against Cody’s. This, I think, is holy.
When they finally part, they’re both flushed and breathless. Obi-Wan rests his forehead against Cody’s, his hands on the other man’s shoulders. You’re beautiful, he thinks. You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful.
“Your side feeling okay?” Cody whispers, a slight smile in his words. Obi-Wan closes his eyes, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.
“Yes,” he says. “Yes, it’s quite alright.”
“Good,” Cody says.
“Indeed.”
Neither of them moves. At some point, Cody’s hands have found their way around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck, his hands buried in Obi-Wan’s hair.
“You’re not too bad at that,” Cody says, his voice still hushed. He smirks, amending, “For a Jedi.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Obi-Wan replies. He lifts an eyebrow. “For a soldier.”
“And not a bad medic, either,” Cody says, nodding at the bacta patches as he pulls away. Obi-Wan resists the urge to chase after him, hunger gnawing from a pit in his gut. Cody gets to his feet and starts to redress.
“Already?” Obi-Wan doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud until Cody looks at him, and his face flushes red.
Cody pauses. “You, er. Liked it, then?” Obi-Wan presses his lips together, unable to formulate a reply. This makes Cody laugh. “Guess you should get injured and try to hide it more often then, General.”
Obi-Wan stands. “I was thinking we could skip the part where I get shot next time, actually.”
Cody raises an eyebrow. “Next time?”
“Er,” Obi-Wan fumbles. “Only if…if you want to, that is.”
Cody places his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders— something he has done so many times before, but never like this. “Of course I want to,” he says, and Obi-Wan knows he means it. “I…” the Commander’s gaze drops to the floor. “I’ve actually been wanting to do that for. Quite a while.”
“You certainly do take your time with things,” Obi-Wan says, closing the distance between them.
Cody smiles against his lips. “Usually works out in the end, I think.”