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“—and if we refer back to Rees’ earlier work on the subject, we can see that several of the points he makes contradict Butler’s publication. That publication had, until that point, been viewed as the de facto resource.”
Cody nods along with Obi-Wan’s words, letting them wash over him. The other man’s shoes squeak as he paces up and down the small aisle, the edges of his heels catching on the rough edge of the runners. They’re slightly oversized, bought to grow into even as Obi-Wan approaches his third decade of life and hasn’t grown an inch since he hit eighteen, and polished to a sheen. Cody glances over as Obi-Wan passes by him once more, confirming his suspicions in the slight gap between his pressed trouser leg and his shoes. His socks are a repeating pattern of anchors picked out in white on a darker blue background. They are also Cody’s.
He adds another line to his notes, drawing a sharp curve down to another section. Tapping the pen against the paper, Cody chews on his lower lip, and adds another piece.
“How do you think that was, Cody?”
Cody blinks up at Obi-Wan, who has stopped pacing at the row behind him and leans over towards Cody. He has braced his hands against the edge of the desk, his fingers brushing against Cody’s curls as he tips his head back. Obi-Wan’s eyes are bright, entirely focused on Cody, but his lip is chewed rough and Cody knows, if he could see them, the edges of his nails would be in a similar state.
“It went well. You kept a good pace and it fits with your slides.” Cody pauses, twirling his pen around his fingers. He fumbles it for an instant as Obi-Wan leans closer, his breath warm against Cody’s forehead and faintly floral, matching the scent wafting from the thermos Obi-Wan had placed on the edge of the desk. “Obi-Wan. You can do this.”
Obi-Wan blinks, tipping further forward with a sigh. He presses his forehead to Cody’s, closing his eyes. “I know,” he murmurs. They stay like that for a moment before Cody reaches behind himself, brushing his fingers over Obi-Wan’s hair before scratching roughly at one spot like he would for a pet. Obi-Wan recoils with a huff, before he leans forwards once more, stretching past Cody to pick up his thermos.
He takes a long sip from it, breathing out through his nose. He coughs and passes the thermos to Cody who accepts it gratefully. He doesn’t drink from it straightaway, twisting the thermos round and round in his hands. It’s warm, the heat from the tea beginning to bleed through the plastic and Cody thinks about the press of Obi-Wan’s hands against it. It’s an idle thought curling across his mind, but it snags every single weave on its way past leaving him snarled and tangled. He is going to have to do something and he knows what that is.
“Obi-Wan?”
“Yes?” Obi-Wan raises himself back up onto his hands, hovering over Cody’s face. “If you’re thirsty, you can have some tea. I don’t mind.”
Cody bites back a laugh but some of his humour must still show across his face. Obi-Wan grins down at him, huffing through his own laughter. “I know. I know. Quibbling over shared beverages seems like an odd point at this stage.” Obi-Wan catches himself, a pale flush colouring his cheeks. It doesn’t match well with the darker shade of his hair and beard and Cody is infatuated with it all the same. “But I feel like I need to have some principles.”
“Do you?” Cody asks, raising a brow at Obi-Wan who only straightens himself up further, adjusting his grip just behind Cody’s head. His arms shake slightly but Obi-Wan stabilises himself. “After everything we’ve been through?”
Obi-Wan chuckles, his grin only widening. “You sound like a bad soap opera.”
Cody joins him in laughing. Their apartment is small with minimal soundproofing so the conflicting sound of the tv from the surrounding apartments filtered through the walls day and night. It may have been a strange form of protest to join in on the cacophony of sound, but Cody had wound up resting his elbows on the back of the sofa, watching whatever strange programme Obi-Wan had settled on that evening. They were strangely compelling after a time.
“Just for you.” Cody blinks up at Obi-Wan, committing the moment to memory — the dark shade of his eyes, the blush covering his cheeks, the devoted attention that he’s directing towards Cody completely — and he pushes himself up to kiss him. It is strange kissing someone upside down, Obi-Wan’s beard scratching at his cheek and chin, before Obi-Wan draws back with a gasp, leaning further forward to kiss Cody once more. Cody steadies the thermos with his other hand, the liquid inside sloshing against the edges before he places it back on the desk without looking. His lingering thirst can wait. He has something more important to focus on.