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“Well, the good news is we see your beacon. Bad news is that with the storm going on we won’t be able to get to you right now. Sit tight Commander,” Waxer said over the comm, “We’ll be there as soon as the storm lets up enough to get transport out to where you are.”
“Understood. Thank you, Lieutenant,” Cody said before ending the call and resisting letting out a sigh.
“It seems like we will be stuck here for a bit longer than expected,” the General said, moving closer to where Cody was standing at the opening of the crevasse, speaking loud enough to be heard over the howling wind and swirling snow.
This planet had a chilly beauty to it from orbit and while descending on the LAAT/I, its frozen windswept landscape harsh but pristine in the sunlight and away from the Separatist base. But after all the firepower tearing it apart and the storm setting in, it had quickly become an inhospitable environment to anything that required heat to survive.
“You should be sitting down,” Cody said, frowning at the way Obi-Wan favored his right leg.
The man waved him off. “It’s just a light sprain. I can manage just fine with the Force until we can get back to the Negotiator.”
Cody glared at Kenobi until the man finally relented and leaned back against the rocky wall of their shelter, the crevasse being one of the few places of actual visible stone he had seen this close to the planet’s pole, where everything else seemed to be made of ice and hard-packed snow. Or empty pockets of air hidden by thin layers of ice and hard-packed snow as Kenobi had discovered the hard way when he and a seppie tank had broken through the surface layer and fallen fifty meters down into the cavernous hole below.
“Nothing is getting to us in this storm, so you can take a moment to take your weight off of it while I wrap it up. Then you can do whatever Force nonsense you were doing while you rest,” Cody said, putting extra emphasis on the last words as Kenobi basically pouted at him as much as a grown man could pout. The General could put even the shiniest of shinies to shame with that expression.
Kenobi slipped to the ground with a huff, laying his injured leg out where Cody could reach it. “If it eases your mind, sprains are something that can be healed with a judicial use of the Force, even if healing is not my specialty.” Kenobi inhaled sharply as Cody gently brushed the man’s foot.
“Can I take your boot off to wrap it, or would you rather keep it on?” Cody said, placing his bucket down on the ground beside him and reaching for the bandages he kept in a small compartment on his belt.
“You might as well take it off to wrap, I can use the Force to keep the swelling down, so getting my boot back on should not be too much of an issue.”
Cody let out a noncommittal hum before pulling out his glowrod and tossing it on the ground next to the General to give himself more light to work with. No words were shared as he carefully removed the General’s boot and deftly wrapped the ankle as best as he could in the field. He had a sneaking suspicion that it might be more than a sprain due to the General’s preference to downplay injuries, but without proper equipment he couldn’t make a different diagnosis. Cody made a quick mental note to ensure that Kenobi actually got checked out by the medics when they regrouped after the storm.
“That’s all I can do for you now,” Cody said, finally siting back, to take in the General’s face only to see that he was slightly flushed. Cody realized that his hand was still lingering on the General’s calf, warmth seeping in through his glove. Too quickly for his preference but not quick enough for propriety he snatched his hand back.
“It is more than enough. Thank you, Cody,” the General said, and Cody couldn’t help the pang that went through him. Kenobi used all of his brother’s names whenever he could, whenever he knew them, but whenever he dropped ranks it always became so much more personal.
And personal was dangerous, because Jedi were empaths. And Cody couldn’t afford to think personal with his Jedi, lest he cause a distraction for both of them.
Cody swallowed and glanced away, back down to his belt where he pulled out his emergency thermo-bedroll. He tossed it lightly to the General, who of course caught the little packaged roll just fine. “You should get some rest,” he said, snagging his bucket as he stood back up. “I can keep first watch.”
“It’s your bedroll Cody. You might as well use it yourself,” The General said, his voice soft and Cody could picture how the man would be holding the roll out to him.
“Do you have a bedroll?” Cody asked without turning around.
“No, but –”
“You should take it then. Clones have a higher body temperature then nat-borns, and I know you would rather not have to deal with a lecture on hypothermia from the medics. Again.”
Cody ignored the face the General was making at that last statement as he moved back towards the entrance to their shelter.
“We could share,” The General’s voice was soft, yet it somehow pierced Cody’s heart and caused him to nearly trip over nothing, “it’s big enough for two.”
Which was categorically untrue – the thermo-bedrolls were designed to be snug to keep all the heat in, if you were to put two bodies in one roll they would have to be essentially on top of each other, no room to spare whatsoever.
Cody turned back to the General, words on his tongue to convince him that anything else would be better –
And the words died on his lips as he took in the earnest blue eyes and slightly flushed face of his General, hand with the packaged bedroll held up towards him.
“If you’re sure,” Cody’s traitorous mouth let out without his say so, and Kenobi smiled softly at him.
“As you so succinctly put earlier, I’d rather avoid a lecture about hypothermia from the medics.” He said, and Cody couldn’t help the little snort he let out as Kenobi pulled the string on the thermo-bedroll packaging, letting it expand out to its full size.
Cody averted his eyes from the General while he deftly shed wet outer layers and slipped into the bedroll, concentrating instead on stripping out of his own armor down to his blacks and placing his DC within easy grabbing distance before turning his attention to where Kenobi was holding the bedroll open, an invitation if he had ever seen one.
Swallowing hard, Cody eased into the bedroll beside his General, who allowed the automatic seal to take over and pull the fabric tight against them, leaving Kenobi plastered against his chest.
“Ah, perhaps we should have thought this through a little more,” Kenobi said slightly muffled as he attempted to pry himself off of Cody’s chest.
“Sorry sir,” Cody said, closing his eyes and praying that Kenobi didn’t notice his blush, or any other anatomy that had taken interest in the auburn-haired man wiggling against him as he rushed to turn to his other side. It didn’t help much, because now Kenobi was pressed up against his back.
His General let out a snort. “I can understand wanting to stay professional in front of the men, but you are always welcome to use my name, especially when it is just the two of us, and especially when we are sharing a bed.”
Cody froze, brain short-circuiting, which Kenobi seemed to misread.
“You don’t have to,” his General rushed to get out, “But if you wanted to –”
“I want to.” Cody blurted out, feeling the fractional way his General relaxed behind him. “I want to, badly. But –” he trailed off.
“But…?” The General prompted after a moment of silence.
Cody let out a growl. “It never seems to be the right time. No, it never can be the right time, not while the war is going on. But every day we’re out on the front lines, risking our lives with no guarantee of there being a tomorrow, and I still can’t bring myself to –”
He cut himself off and closed his eyes.
“Cody,” his General said softly, his hand ghosting across his shoulder and around him to lace his calloused fingers around his hand and squeeze. “Please say it.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“I need you to say it. Please.”
It was the second use of the word please that pushed Cody over the edge, squeezing his General’s hand where it was entwined with his own.
“I want there to be a tomorrow with you, Obi-Wan,” Cody whispered. “Not just as Commander and General, but in the quiet moments too. The in-between and after.”
Obi-Wan pressed close against his back, breath tickling against the back of Cody’s neck and pulled their hands up towards his shoulder, close enough for him to lean forward just a smidge more and brush his lips against his knuckles, the hair of his moustache tickling every so slightly.
“Anything I can give, you can have,” Obi-Wan whispered, and Cody couldn’t help but to slip their hands apart and roll back over so they were face to face again, bright blue eyes meeting his own.
Cody’s hand came up and brushed Obi-Wan’s cheekbone. “Can I have this?” he whispered, running his thumb over the other’s lips.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, almost breathless before Cody pressed close, lips meeting for the first of hopefully many times as Obi-Wan moved against him, hand coming up to cup the back of Cody’s neck where his fingers fisted in the short hairs there.
They traded kisses for a while until Cody finally pulled away as much as the thermo-bedroll allowed him to. “I don’t know if I can go any further today,” he said, slightly breathlessly.
Obi-Wan smiled ruefully at him. “Perhaps we better stop for now, before it gets too heated.”
“We can save that for a bunk with a little more room on the Negotiator. I hear that the General’s quarters are pretty big compared to standard,” Cody said and was rewarded with the rare pleasure of seeing Obi-Wan beam at him. Cody grinned to himself as he carefully flipped back over, allowing Obi-Wan to move in close to spoon him from behind.
“Get some rest, my dear,” Obi-Wan said, brushing a hand through Cody’s hair and along his temple, “I have the watch.”
Cody let himself drift off, the comfort of Obi-Wan’s arms embracing him enough to ease him into a sense of security he wasn’t sure he had felt since he first left his tube, and quietly vowed to himself to find more moments like this in the future; tucked safe in each other’s arms.