Work Text:
Cody knew that in the grand scheme of things, he’d had a hard life. He was not born knowing the unconditional love of a parent, instead he was created to die as cannon fodder. He did not grow up playing with toys, instead he was shooting blasters from the moment he was decanted. He’d certainly never felt safe, not on Kamino, where the slightest infraction could have him decommissioned, not on Coruscant, where natborns jeered at him for being ‘unnatural’, and not even aboard the Negotiator, always anticipating the next dogfight, the next mission, the next near-death experience. Everything Cody had, he had fought tooth and nail for. He was not delusional enough to believe he was was irreplaceable. He could die in battle tomorrow, and before his body had even turned cold, the longnecks would have another CC clone flying to the 212th’s location. Cody had to be hard, unrelenting, an unyielding force, to keep the little life he had carved out for himself.
But what Cody had with Obi-Wan was easy.
Waking up to russet hair tickling his nose was as easy as breathing. Making a cup of tea alongside his own morning caf was easy. The last kiss before they left Obi-Wan’s quarters for the day, the way Obi-Wan would touch his shoulder after a briefing, how their legs perfectly slotted alongside each other as they sat at their desks filling out stacks of flimsiwork, the deep, passionate kisses the second they retired to Obi-Wan’s quarters for the night and the roll into bed. It was all so easy.
All of Cody’s actions were well thought out strategies. Everything he showed the galaxy was to some extent, an elaborate act. He could not afford to be as carefree as the brothers under his command. His position as Commander put him on a pedestal to the shinies, Force, even to the vod’e who had been part of the 212th from the very beginning. He needed to maintain some semblance of that impenetrable demeanour to keep the hard earned respect he had garnered, and he could not afford a breakdown of the chain of command because his brother’s did not respect him as they should.
With Obi-Wan, Cody didn’t have to strategise. He could curl up on Obi-Wan’s shitty GAR standard sofa under the ridiculous tooka patterned blanket that was an old gift from General Secura, and watch a terrible holoshow with his cyar’e. He could tell ridiculous jokes and pull ridiculous faces without fear of the longnecks finding out and decommissioning him. Cody never had to fight to make Obi-Wan laugh, the beautiful sound that was so rare outside of the walls of his quarters making Cody feel warm with joy and satisfaction.
Cody’s life was like the raging seas of Kamino, and he was desperately swimming against the current, fighting at all times to keep his head above water. With great gasping gulps of air. Fighting for the Republic, fighting for his brother’s lives, fighting for his own life. But when he looked into Obi-Wan’s eyes, sparkling with so much love directed at him…Cody could breathe again. A safe haven in the midst of so much chaos, so much fear, so much agony. A ball of warm light Cody could curl safely into. There was no need for him to perform as the unflinching CC-2224; the CC-2224 who carried out every task the Kaminoans threw at him as a perfect soldier should. There was no need for him to be Commander Cody, the omnipresent brother, his status just a fraction too high to be included with the general battalion antics, only truly understood by the other command class clones, scattered lightyears across the galaxy from him.
In Obi-Wan’s arms, he was just Cody. And it was easy.