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Under fire and sprinting towards the LAAT/is through another hotly disputed-yet-lush landscape, Cody should have missed it. He was building an internal holomap of the situation based on the radio reports — four aircraft already lifting off, two more waiting for him and the general — when something tugged his attention over here. His eyes immediately fell on it: Obi-Wan’s lightsaber wedged between fallen tree trunks.
Cody’s first reaction should have been how? But instead it was of course.
Cody snapped up the lightsaber and used the opportunity to drop into a defensive posture. “General,” he said on the radio between laying down suppressive blaster bursts. “Sitrep?”
This would be when Cody expected a breathy reply, Obi-Wan offering something a little overconfident that took the edge off another firefight and added fuel to the fire Cody felt later at night, in the privacy of his own bunk.
“Uh, sir,” was the breathy reply from a decidedly not-Obi-Wan trooper, “We’re one click out. General’s with us, covering the rear, he’s using one of those bows the natives had?”
Of kriffing course. Obi-Wan wouldn’t let the lack of a lightsaber hamper his defense of the men. But Cody wished, for the love of the Force, the man would pick up a blaster. “We’ll keep up the cover fire until you boys get here.”
Only a few minutes later the squad tumbled out of the forest, their blasters announcing their arrival. The troopers headed for the second LAAT/i, already hovering and ready to go, while Obi-Wan bounded into view, somehow armed with a bow and quiver, firing what could only be arrows behind him. Cody had to applaud the man’s resourcefulness, but the inefficiency of it was galling.
With the last of the troopers hopping onto the adjacent LAAT/i, Cody ushered his overwatch team onto the closest LAAT/i and glanced over to check that everyone got aboard the second craft. He found Obi-Wan watching him, waiting to step up and lift off. Cody nodded, Obi-Wan nodded back, and they both boarded knowing everyone made it off another planet alive.
---
As the LAAT/is settled in the hangar bay, the single-minded focus necessitated by a firefight ebbed and Cody felt the pinch of frustration building. It was a particular tightening around his chest he had grown accustomed to the more he had seen Obi-Wan launch himself in front of clankers, projectiles, and sometimes hungry animals. Fortunately for Cody, he was often in a position to throw himself into the fray alongside Obi-Wan. That was enough to delay the inevitable, uncomfortable post-skirmish thoughts about what if and Obi-Wan and hurt or gone.
That the general’s lightsaber was tapping his armor with every step, a reminder of the completely unnecessary danger Obi-Wan had gotten himself into — again — did not help. An intensifying heat joined the tightness in his chest.
Cody stalked over to Obi-Wan, determined to reunite the Jedi with his weapon and bring his heart rate back down to normal.
“Your life, sir,” Cody said, offering the lightsaber back to its master.
Obi-Wan’s face lit up to welcome back his weapon, doing nothing to lower Cody’s heart rate or flush.
“Ah, thank you, commander. My life is always in good hands when it’s with you,” he said, tilting his head with a smile in just such a way. It had been months since Cody fell for this tactic in Obi-Wan’s charm strategy, he wasn’t about to lose focus now.
“General,” Cody started, and doffed his helmet hoping to drive his point home. He would not be beguiled, this time. “I’d feel a lot better about your continued survival, sir, if you carried a secondary weapon.”
Obi-Wan recoiled as if Cody had instead proposed doing, well, any of the things he often imagined doing with or to Obi-Wan before drifting off to sleep.
“Cody, you can’t possibly mean for me to carry a blaster,” he said in hushed tones.
“Sir, it’s my job to ensure that every man on the battlefield has every piece of equipment necessary to complete the mission and come home safely.” Cody cocked his eyebrow, his own version of a charm offensive. “You wouldn’t want to be the reason I can’t do my job, would you, general?”
“Oh, Cody. Always putting the mission first.”
It was not the first time Cody was grateful the mission and his personal mission were so closely aligned: ensure the protection and safety of the republic — and Obi-Wan. Because no matter what he longed for himself, what he needed more was Obi-Wan alive and next to him and leading their men.
“Just following your lead, sir,” he said.
Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkled at the edges as they bored into him, searching, and far too late, after his stomach had already flipped, Cody realized that he had fallen into a different charm trap and was ready to relent. Ready to pick up the lightsaber on the next planet, ready to jump into the fray in front of—
“You’re right, of course,” Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s just,” his eyes darted to the floor before coming back, “truthfully, I’m rather unskilled with a blaster.”
Cody had a difficult time believing Obi-Wan was unskilled in anything, but could admit that his personal feelings were potentially coloring his objectivity. But if Obi-Wan lacked expertise, Cody knew it would only take a little bit of practice for him to become proficient. And, objectively, Cody was a well-suited tutor.
“Well, it’s also part of my job to ensure every man in our corps has the training necessary to complete the mission and come home safely,” Cody said. “I would be more than happy to give you a few pointers at the blaster range.”
Obi-Wan brightened at the offer of range time far more than Cody would have expected. His heart rate spiked more than he would have liked, as well.
“I certainly wouldn’t want to stand in the way of you doing your job, commander,” Obi-Wan said with a smirk. “Only if it wouldn’t be any trouble, I will grudgingly accept your proposition.”
“It won’t be any trouble at all, sir.”
---
Cody was in trouble.
With Obi-Wan’s reluctance and inexperience with a blaster, Cody had arranged for the range to be closed when he and Obi-Wan met for their lesson. With their mornings, middays, and evenings packed with meetings, inspections, and other responsibilities to the Republic, Obi-Wan had suggested their lesson take place after dinner, “to relieve the stress of the day.”
That was how Cody found himself alone in the half-light of the night cycle, standing centimeters behind his general, mostly armorless.
Cody had demonstrated and explained a basic standing shooting position, but the day’s strain must have taken its toll on Obi-Wan because his hips were off just so. The grind of the day had taken its toll on Cody, because as guarded as he was being so close to Obi-Wan outside of a mission, the exhaustion got the better of his decorum. If it had been any trooper in front of him, Cody would not have hesitated to adjust the man’s body into the correct position. Because it was Obi-Wan, Cody’s fingers floated onto the man’s hips. The touch sent a flash of electricity between them. By the time Cody registered the twitch of shock under Obi-Wan’s tunic, the other man had relaxed into the touch. Cody couldn’t say the same for the thrum through his own body.
It was ridiculous, really, Cody had touched Obi-Wan before. He’d put an arm over the man’s shoulder, elbowed his side around the holotable, and even full body tackled him one more than one occasion. But he’d never touched Obi-Wan like this, so gently, so close that he could feel the warmth emanating from the Jedi and just the two of them with no imminent danger or disaster on the horizon.
“Shift your hips for me,” Cody said, swallowing helplessly hearing his own words.
Obi-Wan responded with a neutral hum but didn’t correct himself so Cody pressed on, nudging Obi-Wan to modify his stance. Feeling the flex of the other man’s body beneath his hands sent a flare through Cody. He stepped back, at once loathing and welcoming the chill brought on by the increased distance between them that allowed him to focus.
“Much better.”
“I aim to please,” Obi-Wan preened, sending a wave of want through Cody’s spine.
Cody had assumed Obi-Wan would pick up a few blaster skills quickly. Everything Cody had been taught about Jedi indicated they were intelligent and adaptable — and Obi-Wan had always exceeded every expectation the Kaminoans had ingrained in him. So Cody had not anticipated having to correct the general’s form with such frequency, even if he found himself grateful for the excuses to rest his hands on the man’s back and whisper “relax”, to hover over the nape of his neck to correct his sighting over the blaster barrel, to simply exist together in a suspended moment of time far from the realities of war waiting for them on the other side of the door.
Out there, Cody was a professional who did not let lust or emotions distract him from the mission at hand. In here, Cody was a professional who maybe let his mind wander into the possibilities of closing that final distance between him and Obi-Wan.
The whip of Obi-Wan’s head in his direction snapped him back to attention, and not for the first time Cody wondered if the Kaminoans had also been wrong about the Jedi’s inability to read minds. Obi-Wan’s eyes were bright even in the half-light, alit like his saber and just as ready to strike.
“It occurs to me, Cody,” Obi-Wan drawled, “that it is getting late.” He examined the blaster in his hands. “And I am still far from expert with this device.”
Before Cody could come up with a plausible reason why he, the marshall commander of the entire Third Army, needed to continue supervising Obi-Wan’s range time beyond this Force-given blip in time, Obi-Wan cut through his machinations.
“Perhaps we should meet again tomorrow evening, to work on my battle readiness.”
Oh yes, Cody was in big trouble.
---
It was like any foxhole on any planet where Cody and the general had ended up dug in, side by side, both of one mind and focused on fighting their way through the next wave of clankers. Except it wasn’t anything like that. They were pressed together behind a barrier on the training range, and Cody had too much time to think about the friction of the fabric between their thighs as they discussed when a single round was more useful than rapid fire. He had considered donning more armor for their second session, but the baser part of his brain refused to forfeit these small brushes of intimacy.
Obi-Wan twisted into him to ask, “So I just pop up and fire at what I see?”
Cody huffed a laugh, but when he turned to answer, Obi-Wan’s face was right there and his lips were just one drop of the shoulder away and Cody forgot what he was going to say. “Um,” he stalled, but he didn’t pull away. You’re a kriffing professional, commander, act like it. “If you were a clone, I would remind you about pointing and aiming, sir.” Obi-Wan’s gaze narrowed. “But you’re you, so my best advice is to use the Force.”
Cody felt the soft laughter from Obi-Wan more than he heard it, and the amusement was clear in the quirk of his smile.
“Why Cody, are you endorsing more of my ‘karking Jedi osik’ on the battlefield?”
Obi-Wan had encroached farther into the dwindling space between them to drop what was obvious bait into a sass-trap. It would be so easy to just shut up Obi-Wan’s mouth with his own, but. It would not be easy to be reassigned, to be reconditioned, to be removed from this very place at Obi-Wan’s side. Instead, Cody turned his head to reclaim some distance, and redirect. Maintaining a command presence was much easier with a helmet on and artillery overhead.
“Sir,” and he felt Obi-Wan stiffen next to him. “Your Jedi osik has saved me and the men countless times. Now I’m just suggesting you combine it with a blaster for your own defensive purposes.”
Cody waited as Obi-Wan turned over the blaster pistol in his hands, examining it from different angles, deliberating.
“All right. I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but if my use of a blaster,” Obi-Wan paused to lift his finger, “only in the extraordinarily rare instances I am without my lightsaber,” he emphasized, and Cody managed not to roll his eyes, but the furrowed brow on Obi-Wan meant Cody’s face had given him away anyway. “If my use of a blaster in unfathomably rare situations will make your job easier, I’ll do it.”
Cody let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “It will.”
“Good,” Obi-Wan nodded once. “Not that this will come up often.”
“Of course not.”
“That said,” Obi-Wan added. “I suppose we should continue with target practice.”
Cody fought to keep his bearing neutral, but his entire body felt like it was smiling.
“Oh, one more thing, Cody,” Obi-Wan said as he readied the blaster for another pass of the range. “As long as we’re keeping each other equipped for the battlefield, why don’t you let me take the lead on weapons training tomorrow night?”
---
Cody took a deep breath as he stood outside the door to a training salle. He’d pressed Obi-Wan for details but had his questions deflected like blaster fire. “You won’t need your armor” was the most direction he’d received before Obi-Wan reversed himself with “actually some leg and arm gauntlets might be prudent.” He had a bad feeling about this. He didn’t like relinquishing control, especially in Obi-Wan-related situations where he anticipated having to work very hard to maintain his cool.
He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Obi-Wan lazily propped against the wall, twirling his lightsaber with the same ease an ARC trooper field strips a rifle for fun.
“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted him through the soft light of the spinning blade. This had been a training possibility Cody considered, but his education on Kamino had convinced him to rate the probability very low and in his experience, the only non-Jedi who employed lightsabers were Separatists or Sith.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to replicate those moves,” Cody said.
Obi-Wan stilled the blade in front of him, lighting the expression on his face with more than just a smile. “Not today,” he said and adjusted something on the saber that dimmed the intensity of the hum and glow. “But maybe down the line.”
“Am I,” Cody hesitated, he assumed the Jedi wouldn’t propose any forbidden activity, but he felt he had to ask, “allowed to use a lightsaber?”
“Of course you are, my dear,” Obi-Wan reassured him, and held out the hilt of the lightsaber in his direction. “The lightsaber is a civilized weapon, intended for a civilized man such as yourself.” After a beat, Cody took the proffered weapon. “Since we don’t have any training blades on board, I’ve lowered the power on my own, but please do be careful as it can still injure.”
Cody regarded the blade. He’d held the inactive hilt many times but it had never occurred to him to light it up, to use it, because it was Obi-Wan’s. It was his life, as he so often liked to remind Skywalker. Cody could protect Obi-Wan’s life, but. But he couldn’t use it. And alight, the saber radiated life, like it was embracing him with a warm handshake, reaching into him. This was a weapon that deserved respect from its user, for what it represented and for what it could do.
Besides, “Imagine the rumors out of medbay, ‘did you hear the commander slapped himself with the general’s lightsaber.’”
Kriff.
He hoped the blue light disguised the blush he felt creeping across his cheeks. Obi-Wan was at least grinning.
“Yes, we’ll try to stay out of the medbay for that, I do believe,” he said. “Shall we begin?”
They began with hand positions and Cody devoted the work ethic and military training that had defined his entire life to the task at hand. It was, really, the most effective way for him to ignore how loud his heartbeat was in his ears when Obi-Wan placed his hands over Cody’s on the hilt to illustrate proper thumb placement. If he applied himself to the task at hand and aptly mimicked Obi-Wan’s demonstrations, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to constantly correct him while unwittingly fulfilling some of Cody’s more creative fantasies.
When it came time to learn the basic Soresu stances, Obi-Wan demonstrated the footwork and Cody dutifully copied the movements of each. Years on Kamino striving to be the very best of the best had some benefits: he was, he thought, doing pretty well based on Obi-Wan’s feedback.
Plus, he’d needed very few corrections like the ones he’d made for Obi-Wan.
Which made Cody think. Maybe being the best of the best was a little overrated. Maybe he didn’t always have to reach for perfection. Maybe he needed to be corrected from time to time.
“It seems you’re a natural, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, arms folded, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Why don’t we try a slightly more challenging pattern? It starts in stance two.”
Cody was a smart man, he was strong of will and of mind. But Cody also knew his limits. He knew there was a part of him where the genetic engineering ended and Jango Fett began.
Cody knew stance two. But kriff it, he didn’t have to be the best of the best every single moment of every single day. He sank into the sloppiest stance two he could muster.
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Stance two, dear, you’ll want to swing your hips around the other way.”
Cody swung his hips the other other way. At least Obi-Wan looked amused rather than annoyed with his sudden ineptitude.
The Jedi approached him with arms extended. “May I?”
“Oh,” asking before touching your fellow officer, imagine that, “please, of course.” Di’kut.
Obi-Wan circled behind him and his hands settled onto Cody’s flanks. Cody didn’t flinch at the touch, his body’s tension melted away from him.
“Good,” Obi-Wan said, as low as a tooka’s purr, “relax, it will help you react more smoothly to oncoming fire.”
Cody concentrated on deepening his shallow breathing. With Obi-Wan so close, Cody could soak in how he smelled of the ship’s soap mixed with a day’s work aboard the ship plus something herbal that triggered a memory of entering Obi-Wan’s quarters. He let Obi-Wan’s hands take control, solid and imploring as they shifted him into the proper footwork for stance two. Oh right, he was supposed to be learning, not longing for his general. But Obi-Wan was practically hugging him and Cody wasn’t ready for that to stop. How many times could he affect poor form before Obi-Wan became suspicious? Cody figured it was worth finding out.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat and stepped out of reach, tucking his hands behind his back. “Yes, quite like that. Let’s continue.”
Cody ended up requiring quite a bit of direction. Obi-Wan seemed more than happy to oblige.
---
The orders to detour to another moon for another raid on another Separatist outpost came in before their next training session. It was not unexpected, there weren’t many opportunities to string together four quiet nights in war. It was not wholly unwelcome, either, as Cody knew the best cure for the tightly wound coil slowly consuming him was ripping through some clankers, lighting up some tanks, and maybe an explosion or two. Well, the second best cure, but the best cure was out of the question and his time in the fresher with his hand was proving to be just a placebo.
Calling in air strikes helped.
But the splendor and serenity brought about by a well-fought battle ended the moment Cody spotted the general from the clifftop he was directing movements from.
A formation of droids with two tanks was advancing on the low rock wall Obi-Wan and a squad of troopers had taken cover behind.
That wasn’t the disquieting part. Those clankers were as good as scrap metal going up against an entire squad of clones and a Jedi, especially this Jedi. Cody called in the droids’ coordinates anyway, no harm in giving the pilots a little more target practice.
What had Cody floored was this Jedi.
Obi-Wan was using a blaster.
No, he wasn’t just using a blaster. He was kriffing destroying clankers left and right from a farther distance than they had ever practiced — with a blaster. It was perplexing. Cody was perplexed. This Obi-Wan had not shown up to their lessons. This Obi-Wan was, in fact, how Cody had expected the general to be with a blaster: competent and efficient and deadly. This Obi-Wan was also not helping Cody’s desire to unwind. Where were those karking starfighters.
On cue, the sky tore apart with the scream of two low-flying fighters headed for the swath of clankers. After a few incendiary devices cleared the area, the extraction unfolded with the military precision and haste Cody had drilled into his men and the detachment of troopers were packed onto LAAT/is heading back the cruiser.
Cody tried to occupy his thoughts by drafting an after action report, focusing on the banal details of ordnance used, enemies engaged, confusingly skilled blaster users… kark.
He hadn’t been the only one to notice, either.
“Did you see the general out there?” Boil asked Wooley. “He was an assassin with the blaster. I didn’t even know he could use one!”
“Come on,” Wooley chided. “Obviously he’s used one before, he wouldn’t have been that good without a lot of training. Jedi osik could only get you so far.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, I can’t believe our general’s had Cody-like blaster skills this whole time.”
Cody rolled his eyes in the privacy of his helmet. That should have been an insult! Obi-Wan had not shown Cody sniper-worthy marksmanship or even basic infantry-level prowess. But they meant it as a compliment! Because Obi-Wan had shown everyone else a practiced competence on par with, well, not himself, but at least shinies who’d spent enough time on the range to know their knee from their elbow.
Cody couldn’t understand it. In their lessons, Obi-Wan had needed a lot of guidance and attention, plus plenty of hands-on assistance. His pace of progress was not particularly rapid and they had an amorphous agreement to continue trading lessons during downtime on the ship. Jedi were perceptive and resourceful, but it seemed unlikely that Obi-Wan had gone from two sessions with minimal improvement to that performance on the battlefield overnight. But if Obi-Wan already had decent blaster skills, why would he agree to sit through Cody’s lessons? And why would he feign inexperience?
No. That couldn’t be it.
Cody feigned ignorance during their lessons because he wanted and he was weak. Obi-Wan was not weak and Obi-Wan did not want him — did he?
---
Did he?
The question took root in Cody’s head and grew through the rest of the flight…
He does flirt — he does that with everybody.
…through debarking the LAAT/i in the hangar…
And the way he smiles sometimes — can’t the man just smile?
…through headcounts and dismissal…
And he finds excuses to spend time together — you literally work together.
…and it had bloomed into a Felucia-sized flower of maybe he does by the time Obi-Wan caught up with him in a passageway. “Cody!” he called with one of those now-auspicious smiles. “I still owe you another lightsaber lesson.”
Hope tickled Cody’s chest. “Yes, tonight?”
Obi-Wan grinned. “Eager are we? I would have thought you’d had your fill of fighting for the day.”
He really does flirt. “Oh, it takes more than that to wear me out. I could go all night.” In the harsh light of the ship’s common areas, the subtle blush on the tips of Obi-Wan’s ears was easy to spot.
“In that case, I’ll see you this evening. We can put that to the test.”
---
Cody was a strategist. Given a mission objective, he could outline several different sound and sensible options for how to accomplish it. His plan for the evening’s objective wasn’t the most rational, he knew that, but up until a few hours earlier, he hadn’t let himself believe the objective was in the scope of reality. The plan wasn’t Skywalker-levels of reckless, but maybe Obi-Wan-levels of brazen. That at least felt appropriate for an attempt to seduce the man.
Walking into the training salle, he unveiled part one of his plan: he’d replaced the typical uppers of his blacks with a short sleeve shirt and left the rest of his armor in his quarters.
The first strike hit its intended target.
“Feeling confident in your handling skills, I see,” Obi-Wan said, casually eyeing him.
“I’ve got a good instructor.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Cody,” Obi-Wan winked, unclipping his lightsaber. “Why don’t we start at the beginning, pattern one.”
Cody flicked the lightsaber on into its lowest setting. The blade buzzed with the same intensity as the anticipation snowballing in him. Part two of his plan was pretty straightforward, he could do it now or wait. He could let the fingers of doubt about this whole gambit gain purchase or he could act.
“Can you remind me?”
“I thought you said you had a good instructor?” Obi-Wan teased, and moved to demonstrate the opening of pattern one.
Cody diligently imitated the footwork and arm movements. He barely registered the swoosh-swoosh of the blade over the roar of his heartbeat. The plan was in motion, he simply needed to wait for his opening.
“Excellent,” Obi-Wan muttered, rubbing his chin. “Let’s jump ahead to pattern eight again, starting in stance two.”
Cody was as Force-sensitive as his blaster, but if he had to imagine how the Force spoke to Jedi, he would guess it sounded like the very insistent now tugging on his thoughts. Stance two was how he began his campaign of deception, how he began to see through Obi-Wan’s own deception, it could be the opening he needed.
He pivoted his feet the wrong way, he dropped too low, his hips were not square. His stance two was awful, but part two of the plan was underway.
Obi-Wan bit back a smile.
“I think you might need to show me again,” Cody said, trying to keep the shiver of nerves out of his voice. He was barrelling towards part three of his plan with no rails to catch him.
Obi-Wan slipped around Cody to his backside and Cody’s brain nearly leapt out of his eyes at the light pat on his butt. “Sit up higher,” Obi-Wan instructed.
What synapses Cody had left complied, and Obi-Wan cooed “good” from just behind his shoulder. Steady hands found his hip bones and Cody didn’t need their direction to shift into the correct position.
“So you do remember,” Obi-Wan said, voice low, breath hot on Cody’s neck. Neither of them moved. Obi-Wan left his hands where they were. If his plan went to osik, Cody wanted to savor this moment, the one before he got it all wrong. The room was silent save for the lightsaber but all Cody could hear was the imploring now now now in his brain.
Cody flicked the lightsaber off, quieting the pleas. He twisted his head to look at Obi-Wan, using the movement to back up a millimeter. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply at the soft bump of their bodies, but didn’t move away. His eyes were dark in the dim light.
“Like you remembered how to shoot a blaster.”
“Saw that, did you?” Cody was not used to hearing Obi-Wan sound so unsure.
“It would have been hard to miss.”
A sly smile slid across Obi-Wan’s lips. Oh. Cody’s plan didn’t account for Obi-Wan also having a plan.
Cody turned around fully but didn’t give up any ground in personal space, he could feel the rise and fall of Obi-Wan’s chest against his own. After a beat, Obi-Wan’s hands returned to his sides, and he seemed to be asking a question with his eyes.
Part four of Cody’s plan would have him lean in and meet Obi-Wan’s mouth with his own. He had no idea what the next step of Obi-Wan’s plan was.
He didn’t wait to find out.
Cody tilted into Obi-Wan and hungry lips greeted him. He drank in as much as he could before coming up for air.
“I’m glad you take blaster training so seriously, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, his hands exploring more of Cody’s torso.
“I’m glad you have such a loose relationship with the truth.” Cody cut off the start of a protest with another kiss, this time less hurried but no less intense.
Obi-Wan came up for air next. “I was thinking for our next lesson, you could show me some of those sniper team techniques.” Cody’s brain was absorbed in making out, he couldn’t process the request. Cody’s confusion must have been obvious, because Obi-Wan continued, “You know how the spotter sometimes lays on the shooter?”
“Obi-Wan, you’ve thoroughly made your point,” Cody said, pulling the other man closer so he could feel all of Obi-Wan against him. “You don’t need more lessons to lure me into bed.”
“Then by all means, follow me,” Obi-Wan said.