Work Text:
1
Obi-Wan had learned many things about his commander in the year they had known each other, since their first meeting at the start of the war. He learned that while his designation was CC-2224, he was called Cody by his brothers, a play on the Mandalorian word kote. He learned that Cody was talented with all forms of blasters, but preferred to use a DC-15 carbine. He saw Cody fight, learned that he was disciplined and militaristic, but wouldn’t hesitate to throw a brutal punch at a droid if the situation called for it. He learned that Cody was honorable—he was kind and measured, serious but caring, and always put his duty first.
He had learned many things about Commander Cody, but by far his most surprising discovery was that his methodical and practical Marshal Commander had, as it turned out, resounding success in the field of romance.
Obi-Wan would not have believed it a week ago. He had seen plenty of interest in sordid relations from his clone troopers—under-the-breath comments about attractive people they met on their travels, discussions longing for shore leave, posters of scantily-clad women tacked up in the crew quarters—but never an ounce of interest from Cody.
They were traveling through hyperspace, en route to Coruscant, returning from a mission in the Outer Rim. The Senate had requested assistance following up on rumors of a new form of proton bomb being developed by the Separatists, so they sent the 212th Attack Battalion out to investigate. With them on their mission was a scientist, a “nat-born” as the clones called them, working for the GAR—Javi Kesyk was his name, a friendly man with dark hair and blue-tinted spectacles that rested on the bridge of his nose.
All in all, it was a rather routine mission—Obi-Wan had spent most of it with his thoughts elsewhere, perhaps not something a proper military general would have done, but he had never claimed to be a perfect general. He had been dwelling over things back at the Temple—Master Tapal had taken a new padawan, Master Windu had messaged him about a new meditation technique, Ahsoka had decided to start training with a shoto saber… with all the thoughts in his mind, it was perhaps not unexpected that it took him so long to pick up on what was happening right in front of him.
“I know it’s good that we didn’t find any evidence of new weapons, but I was rather looking forward to investigating those proton bombs,” mused Dr. Kesyk, standing next to Obi-Wan as their Venator maneuvered away from the planet.
“I’m sure there would have been a great deal of scientific advancements worth studying,” said Obi-Wan politely. “Gentlemen, whenever you’re ready, take us out to hyperspace.”
“General,” said Cody’s level voice, stepping up to stand behind Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Just sent the report out to Coruscant.”
“Thank you, Cody,” said Obi-Wan, warmed by his commander’s diligence. If I asked Anakin to send a report for me, he’d take three hours to do it and get into four fights along the way, he thought with mild amusement.
“And how long is the flight back to Coruscant, Commander?” asked Dr. Kesyk.
“Three days in hyperspace, Doctor,” said Cody. The floor of the Negotiator shifted underneath their feet, and Obi-Wan watched the stars outside their viewport elongate as they transitioned smoothly into hyperspace. Satisfied, he stepped away from the command console, hoping for some quiet time and a chance for meditation in the peace of his private quarters.
As Obi-Wan gathered his datapads, he picked up on a quiet conversation behind him.
“Three days is a lot of time,” said the doctor, but his voice was different from before—playful and interested.
“It certainly is,” murmured Cody back, and Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up. He had never heard his commander speak in such a tone—low and a little husky, deep and affectionate. Obi-Wan tried not to gape—he had to admit, the sound of Cody’s voice was quite compelling. He busied himself with stacking his datapads, his back still turned, trying not to look like he was listening in.
“Any chance we could… find some way to entertain ourselves during those three days?” said the doctor, voice lilting and amused. Obi-Wan’s eyes almost popped out of his head. It was all above board, of course—being in a different division of the GAR, Dr. Kesyk was not Cody’s direct report or vice versa. Both were consenting adults, and it was certainly not Obi-Wan’s business what his commander decided to get up to in his free time.
And yet. Obi-Wan couldn’t shake the seed of discontent growing at the thought. He had gotten rather used to having Cody stalwartly by his side, and he wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of him hanging around someone else.
“I’m sure we could think of some interesting uses of our time,” said Cody, and the doctor laughed quietly. “You aren’t leaving your bed until I’ve—”
Obi-Wan dropped his datapad with a clatter. He hurried to snatch it back up, spinning and hoping the blush on his face wasn’t noticeable.
“My apologies,” he said stiffly. “I must be clumsy today. Well, Commander, feel free to call if you need anything!”
“Of course, General,” said Cody, bemused. The doctor’s eyes flitted between Obi-Wan and Cody.
“Well, I’m off,” said Obi-Wan, a touch too loud. “Enjoy your time! Or—I mean—well, talk to you later, Commander, Doctor—”
He managed to escape the room, cursing himself mentally for being such a tactless idiot. Obi-Wan was no stranger to flirting, to be sure—he himself enjoyed a private, no-strings-attached escapade on occasion, though he hadn’t much had the time or motivation since the war had started. But there was something about hearing his normally even-tempered commander’s tone darken with interest, hearing implication-laden words fall from those serious and professional lips, that had Obi-Wan feeling quite thrown off his usual equilibrium.
He tried his hardest to get his mind off of it as time ticked forward—it was really entirely ridiculous for him to be caught up on four sentences of an overheard conversation, and it was none of his business if Cody wanted to enjoy some… leisure time in between missions. Unlike some of his fellow generals (Master Krell came to mind, for one), Obi-Wan believed wholeheartedly that his clone troopers were just as deserving of all the aspects of personhood as the rest of the galaxy. If Cody wanted to have a dalliance with the handsome scientist, Obi-Wan would not stand in his way.
He had almost gotten his mind off of it the next day as he strode through the Negotiator’s corridors, making his way to the galley to make a cup of tea. As Obi-Wan rounded the corner, he drew up short at the sight in front of him.
“Oh, can’t you stay?” murmured the doctor’s voice, just out of sight in his quarters. In front of the open door to his room stood Cody—a sight to behold.
Obi-Wan swallowed hard as he took in the view in front of him, tucking back around the corner to avoid being spotted. Cody was half-dressed, if that—he had his leg armor secured, but held his chestplate and pauldrons under one arm.
“You’re tenacious, anyone ever tell you that?” said Cody with a chuckle. He shrugged his uniform blacks up over his shoulder, struggling to secure the underlayer into place with just one hand available. Obi-Wan caught a brief, utterly tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin, muscles, and dark swirls of ink before it disappeared under fabric. “I’ll be back later, I promise—just gotta check in on the men. I’m already late—”
“Well, if you didn’t want to be late, you shouldn’t have shown me that trick with your tongue,” said Dr. Kesyk, reaching out to help Cody zip up his blacks. The doctor wore a robe, and Obi-Wan’s stomach did a funny flip when he noticed the scientist’s neck littered with dark love bites. He couldn’t quite believe his commander was capable of that.
“If you didn’t want me to do that trick with my tongue, you shouldn’t have done that thing with your fingers,” said Cody.
“One kiss for the road?” pleaded Dr. Kesyk, straightening Cody’s collar. He leaned forward, but Cody pushed him back gently.
“Ah, you know the rules,” he said, low and commanding, and the doctor pouted. “Oh, don’t give me that face, sweetheart. I’ll be back after my meeting.”
“That stamina really is unmatched,” said Dr. Kesyk, laughing. Cody waved him off, securing his chestplate into place as the door to the doctor’s quarters slid shut.
Obi-Wan panicked as he realized Cody was coming down the hall towards him, and would see him imminently as he turned the corner. In a haze of worry, he froze briefly in place, hands floating aimlessly as he frantically searched for a reasonable excuse to be lingering in the hallway.
Cody was securing his left pauldron into place as he rounded the corner. He froze in place as he met Obi-Wan’s eyes, looking rather like a frightened oro deer caught in front of a speeder.
“Um,” he said. “General Kenobi. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Commander,” said Obi-Wan, hoping his voice was level. Cody’s normally neat hair, always styled tight in his regulation crew cut, was mussed, letting his curls spill down his forehead.
Cody glanced over his shoulder, looking somewhat frantic. “Listen, General, I—”
“Ah, Commander,” said Obi-Wan, lifting a hand. “Whatever you do in your downtime is your business, not mine. Please, no need to explain anything to me.”
Cody’s face relaxed into a grin, and Obi-Wan’s stomach did a traitorous jump.
“If I caught one of my men wandering the halls out of uniform, I’d write them up,” he said with a chuckle, gesturing with his right pauldron, still in his hand.
“Such an egregious uniform violation,” said Obi-Wan lightly. “Luckily, I believe I’m bound to forget anything I’ve noticed by the time I return to my quarters.”
“Thanks, General,” said Cody, letting out a relieved chuckle. “In fact, how about we just forget this whole conversation ever happened?”
“Consider it gone,” said Obi-Wan, clasping his hands behind his back and nodding to Cody. Hurrying down the corridor, Cody shot him one last grin, and Obi-Wan felt dazzled by it—his commander really was remarkably handsome, wasn’t he?
“Oh, dear,” he murmured to himself. His promise to forget what he had seen was going to be very difficult to keep—very difficult indeed.
2
Sometimes, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if the Force was playing some grand cosmic joke on him, because he really seemed to have the worst luck in the galaxy.
“Chin up, General,” said Cody, trudging next to him through the heavy rainstorm. “Once we get to the manor, they’ll have a transport to get us back to the shuttle.”
“I am coated in mud,” he said tiredly. He knew it wasn’t very Jedi-like to complain, but he couldn’t resist. “We’ve been walking for hours!”
“Yes, sir, we’re right on schedule,” said Cody. Obi-Wan huffed—he swore he could hear an edge of amusement in his commander’s voice, hidden by his helmet’s vocoder.
“Some rescue this is turning out to be,” Obi-Wan grumbled. Their mission had been to assist in the extraction of a wealthy Republic-sympathizing noble on Separatist-controlled Chalacta, but their plan had gone quickly awry as their shuttle was shot down on entry to the planet. Obi-Wan and his commander were left to make their way to their target on foot, miserable but alive.
The manor was lovely, at least, elegant and warm even as Cody and Obi-Wan dripped muddy rain on the floor of the foyer.
“I was hoping you’d arrive soon,” came a voice from the top of the stairs. “I’m eager for us to be on our way.”
“Ah, Lady Cheya,” said Obi-Wan as their mission descended the large staircase. She was a young woman, perhaps in her late twenties, and almost disconcertingly beautiful. Her dark hair was braided with pink silk, and she wore elegant robes that revealed her graceful form.
“You must be Master Kenobi,” she said to him, inclining her head respectfully. “Who is your companion?”
“It’s lovely to meet you in person,” Obi-Wan said. “This is Marshal Commander Cody of the 212th Attack Battalion.”
“I’m honored to meet you both,” said Lady Cheya. Her eyes lingered on Cody for a long moment before her lips turned up in a small smile. “A Marshal Commander? I’m quite flattered that the Republic would send such an accomplished officer for me.”
“Just doing my duty, ma’am,” said Cody respectfully, smiling back. His eyes glinted slightly with amusement, or perhaps something else Obi-Wan couldn’t read.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Indeed. And I am a General, after all, which does outrank a Marshal Commander. For what it’s worth.”
“Mm-hm,” said Cheya indulgently, looking at Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eyes. “My hovercarriage is waiting for us outside. Shall we?”
Obi-Wan tried desperately to focus on the mission during the carriage ride towards the spaceport. His fingers tapped an anxious rhythm on his knee as he stared out the window, trying to ignore the conversation from behind him.
“Chalacta is a lovely planet,” said Cody, in that warm, smooth tone Obi-Wan had heard him use when he was charming the doctor some months ago. “It’s a shame I don’t get to see more of it. Maybe I’ll visit once the war is over.”
“Oh, I’d love to have you visit, Cody,” said Cheya. She leaned forward, resting an elegant hand on Cody’s knee. Obi-Wan nearly bit his own tongue off—it was highly unprofessional, really, flirting right in front of him in the middle of a mission.
“I think you’ll like Coruscant, too, though,” said Cody as their carriage approached the city. “As long as you’ve got someone experienced to show you around.”
“Oh?” said Cheya. “And what experience have you had with Coruscant, Commander Cody?”
“I might have a bit,” said Cody. He smiled at her, and his face was bright like the sun—Obi-Wan had to look away, utterly baffled at the battling emotions in his chest. There was a small and irrational part of him that desperately needed that beaming smile turned towards him and him alone.
Stupid, Obi-Wan chastised himself. If Cody wanted to flirt with the beautiful, elegant, wealthy, intelligent noblewoman, who was he to stop it? After all, it wasn’t like he compared to her in any way—he was just a prematurely graying Jedi encumbered with years of grief and guilt.
“General,” muttered Cody, and Obi-Wan snapped back into the present. Their hovercarriage was coming to a stop, and he immediately went onto alert.
“A routine stop,” said Cheya, voice turned steely. “An excuse for the soldiers to rough up the locals, more like. Let me speak, I’ll handle it.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, because really, he was the one capable of telepathically making others do his bidding, after all.
“Cody,” she commanded. “Helmet under the bench. Take the General’s outer robe and cover your armor.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but they did as she instructed. Obi-Wan rested his hands on his knees, projecting an aura of calm through the Force as the carriage door slid open.
“Lady Cheya,” said the soldier, an imposing woman flanked by two battle droids. “I thought I recognized your clan symbol on the hovercarriage door.”
“Indeed,” said Cheya, nodding. “It’s always lovely to have time to visit town.”
The soldier turned her steely eyes on Cody and Obi-Wan. “And your guests?”
To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Cheya put on an embarrassed face, leaning in conspiratorially towards the soldier like they were good friends.
“Can you keep a secret?” she said in a stage-whisper. The battle droids shifted nervously, and the soldier’s brows turned down.
“No secrets in wartime, my lady,” she said. “Can’t have any Republic secrets flying about.” Her eyes darted suspiciously over Cody and Obi-Wan.
“Oh, nothing like that, silly,” said Cheya with a giggle, nothing like her previous steely demeanor. “I just don’t want you to tell my father about my boyfriend.”
Obi-Wan fought to keep his face neutral.
“Isn’t he handsome?” gushed Cheya, leaning so her shoulder bumped against Cody’s, one hand resting possessively on his thigh.
“Nowhere near the beauty you possess,” said Cody smoothly, lacing their fingers together. “I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy, getting to be near you.”
Cheya giggled again, and Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. “Oh, Cody, you flatterer!”
She turned towards the soldier, whispering. “He’s visiting from Raxus. I know my parents won’t approve, but how could I resist?”
The soldier seemed unconvinced, eyes landing on Obi-Wan. “So who’s the redhead, then?”
“Oh, him?” said Cheya, as if she’d forgotten he was even there. Obi-Wan bristled, but kept his mouth shut. “He’s Cody’s footman, of course.”
“Got to have someone to carry my stuff when I’m enjoying a date with the lily of Chalacta,” said Cody, grinning at Cheya. “His work ethic leaves a lot to be desired, though. Even lost my favorite cape in transit.”
Obi-Wan glared, wondering if he could drill holes in Cody’s skull with just his eyes.
“Of course,” agreed the soldier. “Sorry, Lady Cheya, but I’ll need to check their identifications. Routine business.”
Cheya laughed musically. “You’re being such a fun-killer, Tallis! Come on. Cody has to leave this afternoon, and I want to make the most of my time with him.”
“I’ve got big plans to make this evening extra special,” said Cody, tilting his head towards Cheya. She hummed with interest, grabbing his arm. “Gonna get you alone and make you forget your own name—”
“Okay, enough of that,” said the soldier, her nose wrinkling. Obi-Wan never thought he’d agree with a Separatist on something, but war brought countless surprises. “My lady, I’ll let it go this time, but that’s your only exemption, you hear me?”
“Oh, you’re a darling,” Cheya gushed. “I’ll make sure Father gets you a prime seat at the next dinner. Okay?”
The soldier waved them off, and the hovercarriage floated away, the door sliding closed. Cheya’s bubbly demeanor slid off her face, replaced by the same steely determination she had worn earlier.
“Unbelievable,” she hissed. “The only thing they care about is wealth and status. All I do is mention my father, and they fold like a house of cards.”
“Lady Cheya, I should apologize,” said Cody, looking a little shamefaced. “I’d never say those things, but I figured I should play along.”
“You did excellently,” she said, patting his arm.
“I don’t know about never,” said Obi-Wan. He crossed his arms across his chest, feeling rather petty. “I’m fairly certain there’s a rather large subset of the population that’s heard such dulcet words.”
Cody laughed, unembarrassed. “Okay. I’d never say those things without checking to make sure it was alright first.”
“Don’t you worry, Commander,” said Cheya, looking amusedly at Obi-Wan. “I can reassure you it’s quite alright. And I don’t mind at all.”
“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” said Cody smoothly. “I’d hate to think I wasted all those good lines on someone unreceptive.”
“Oh, I’m sure your audience is quite receptive,” said Cheya, gazing at him with open interest in her eyes.
“If you’ll excuse me,” said Obi-Wan snippily as their carriage pulled to a halt. “We do still have a mission to complete, after all.”
Cody did look a touch embarrassed at that, rubbing at the back of his head. “Yeah. Guess we have to get you to the ship, my lady.”
Extracting Cheya was the easy part—the hard part was after they jumped to hyperspace, safely on the route back to Coruscant, and he lost track of both his commander and their mission somewhere deep and probably private in the Venator.
He paced tight circles in the bridge, drawing curious stares from the other troopers as his pulse jumped in his temple.
“You alright, General?” asked Waxer curiously.
“Fine,” said Obi-Wan shortly. And he was fine—as with the doctor, it was entirely Cody’s choice who he fraternized with. Obi-Wan did not possess him—he knew this well. All the same, he couldn’t shake the itching in his chest.
He rolled his shoulders back, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Surely, some rest and a good bout of steady meditation would be enough to shake off the odd and inconvenient feelings growing in his chest.
He certainly hoped it would be enough, at least.
3
“Just once, Kenobi, I’d like you to visit Mandalore without bringing chaos alongside you,” said Satine. Blaster bolts whizzed over their head from the contingent of battle droids quickly approaching their position.
Obi-Wan huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “You think this is my fault?”
“Even if it isn’t your fault, I do expect you to fix it!” scolded Satine, popping up to shoot her deactivator pistol at the approaching droids.
“I’m trying,” he said tersely. He shoved his comlink unceremoniously into her hands, leaping up and activating his lightsaber. “Use this. Tell the Commander where we are—he’ll bring reinforcements.”
“Obi-Wan!” groaned Satine as Obi-Wan leapt away from their hiding spot, deflecting blaster fire with his lightsaber.
“Blast the Jedi!” shouted the tinny voice of a battle droid. Obi-Wan put on a burst of speed, rushing towards the droids, lightsaber spinning. He lost himself in the focus of battle, leaping from one droid to the next as he tore through them.
After a few minutes that felt like ages, Obi-Wan finally caught sight of the familiar white-and-orange armor of his men.
“Got your six, General!” called Boil, rushing past him and blasting a battle droid square in the chest. Waxer was close behind him, lobbing a bomb at an approaching droideka.
“Good looking out,” Obi-Wan told them, falling back towards Satine’s position as his men closed in on the dwindling forces of battle droids.
As Obi-Wan vaulted back over the storage crates towards Satine, he caught a glimpse of Cody approaching, jetpack lowering him safely towards their position.
“Cody,” Obi-Wan called gratefully. “Where in the world is your helmet?”
“Lost it along the way,” shouted Cody over the roar of battle. “Long story. Tell you later.”
“Commander, we need to extract the Duchess,” Obi-Wan explained. “We can’t risk her—”
“Heads up!” warned Satine, stepping in between Obi-Wan and Cody to send a well-aimed deactivator pistol bolt at an approaching droid. It short-circuited, tumbling to the ground.
Cody leaned back, observing with amusement. “Seems like she’s doing okay on her own.”
Satine turned, brushing a stray hair out of her face as she eyed Cody.
“You must be Commander Cody,” she said.
“In the flesh,” said Cody. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Duchess.”
Satine turned towards Obi-Wan, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Obi-Wan, you didn’t tell me your commander was so handsome,” she said.
“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan spluttered.
“More time for chat later,” said Cody, looking amused. “Time to get a move on. Duchess, may I?”
He offered a hand out, which Satine took gratefully. Offering a sly look towards Obi-Wan, Cody slid one arm around Satine’s waist, pulling her close to him. He activated his jetpack, and the two of them blazed upwards.
“Oh, they better be joking,” muttered Obi-Wan, left to hunt for his own way up onto the landing platform. He grumbled as he leapt from the crates to the wall, grasping for handholds and boosting himself with the Force until he reached the platform.
“So kind of you to join us, General Kenobi,” said Satine as Obi-Wan heaved himself up onto the platform. He shot her a glare, which only made her look more amused.
“The LAAT’s touching down any moment,” said Cody. “Ready for a ride, Duchess?”
“A ride with you, Commander?” said Satine, resting a playful hand on her chin. “Doesn’t sound half bad.”
“We could always take the scenic route, get to know each other a bit,” said Cody, eyes twinkling.
Obi-Wan felt a bit like he might die on the spot. He briefly considered jumping back off the landing platform down to the melee below, just to escape the torture Satine and Cody were putting him through.
“Be serious,” he said snippily. “We’re in a war zone.”
“I am serious,” Satine said airily. “Don’t you want me to get to know your troopers better, Obi?”
“Not particularly,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Duchess, allow me,” said Cody, resting a hand on Satine’s lower back as he guided her onto the LAAT/i.
“You’re too kind, Commander,” said Satine, gracefully taking his hand. Obi-Wan grumbled, following them onto the ship.
“Oh, dear, I can’t seem to reach the overhead handles,” said Satine, halfheartedly reaching above her head. “What should I do?”
“I suppose I’ll need to watch out for you myself,” said Cody, pulling Satine towards him. She shot Obi-Wan a teasing grin, unconcerned by the death glare he was sending her.
“She’s plenty tall enough to reach the handles on her own, Commander,” said Obi-Wan, staring pointedly at Satine.
“Safety first, General,” said Cody, amusement in his voice.
By the time the LAAT/i reached the landing pad of the palace, Obi-Wan was sure a blood vessel in his forehead was about to burst. Cody was almost too handsome to be believed, with the charming smile creasing his face, eyes twinkling, a single curl dangling on his forehead. He leant towards Satine, laughing at something she said, and Obi-Wan wished so desperately that it was him standing there, hearing those lovely words from Cody, that he felt he would burst from it.
“Safe and sound, no battle droids to be seen,” said Cody as he helped Satine off the LAAT/i.
“Thank you for your care and assistance, Commander,” she said, trailing a hand down his shoulder. “It’s much appreciated.”
“It’s meeting interesting people like you that makes my job worth it,” Cody said smoothly. “Please feel free to reach out if you need my assistance with anything.”
“Oh, I most certainly will,” said Satine. “Obi-Wan?”
“What,” said Obi-Wan flatly.
“Commander, you don’t mind if I steal the General for a moment, do you?” she asked. Cody nodded.
“Go ahead, Duchess,” he said. “I know he’s in good hands with you.”
Obi-Wan followed Satine up the steps to the palace.
“I’m really on a tight schedule, you know,” he said waspishly. “Must be getting back to Coruscant and all.”
She spun to face him once they were out of earshot, pinning him with a knowing glance.
“You’re in love,” she said matter-of-factly, and Obi-Wan choked on his own spit.
“What?” he demanded. “No, I’m—what are you even talking about?”
She scoffed. “I do have eyes, Obi. Really.”
“I don’t…” tried Obi-Wan, before giving up, heaving an enormous sigh. “What’s it to you, anyway? You’re just trying to torment me for fun?”
“Well, it’s your own fault,” she said, tapping him playfully on the chest. “You’re very easy to torment.”
“Satine, be serious,” he entreated.
“Alright. I’m sorry, Obi—yes, I’ve been teasing you, but I can’t resist when you’re so transparent about your jealousy!”
“I’m not jealous,” insisted Obi-Wan. “Jealousy is unbecoming of a Jedi—”
Satine laughed long and loud at that, until she was red in the face from laughter.
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s the purpose of it all?”
“Oh, Obi, I just want you to loosen up a bit, alright? The world won’t end if you admit you’re in love.”
“It might,” said Obi-Wan tightly. He could picture it—admitting to it in the open could get him in deep trouble, the Council could find out, he’d be expelled from the Order, left with no family or friends in this world—
“You’re spiraling again,” said Satine gently, pulling him back into the present.
“I’m sorry, Satine, but there’s nothing I can do except ignore it and focus on the war,” he said regretfully. “Even if I did say something, I already know he doesn’t feel the same way. He flirts with every other sentient being we meet, and barely spares me a second glance!”
Satine hummed doubtfully. “Maybe all his glances are done when you’re not looking,” she said.
“You’re an optimist as always, Duchess,” he said, unable to keep the fondness from his tone.
“What can I say?” she said. “I’m a romantic at heart.”
“General,” called Cody from the bottom of the palace steps. “The Negotiator is awaiting our rendezvous.”
“I’m sending the General your way, Cody,” called Satine, giving him a quick wave. Turning back to Obi-Wan, she said, “Listen, just—chin up, Obi. And call me if you ever need to talk—or just rant about how handsome he is, because honestly, I agree wholeheartedly. Those thighs—”
“Enough, Satine,” he said, sending her a scandalized glare. She laughed, unrepentant, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Obi-Wan hurried back to Cody, his conversation with Satine swirling in his mind. Cody tilted his head to look at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“Ready to go, General?” said Cody.
“All set,” said Obi-Wan, unable to keep the smile off of his face.
4
“So, what do you think? Do I look like a smuggler?”
Cody did a little flourish with his hands, showing off his new disguise. He fidgeted slightly in the tight-fitting pants and leather jacket, adjusting the cap on his head.
Obi-Wan bit his tongue. Truthfully, Cody looked ravishingly handsome, and Obi-Wan was becoming quickly distracted by thoughts of being slammed against the wall and taken apart by the rakish smuggler-type in front of him.
“I’d say you look convincing, Commander,” he said, keeping his tone level, one hand stroking his beard. “If I saw you coming down the street in my direction, I’d cross to the other side.”
“Oh, you flatter me, General,” said Cody, a sideways smirk on his face. He reached for his blaster belt, turning to secure it in place. Obi-Wan might or might not have used this opportunity to appreciate his commander’s perfect thighs and shapely rear in his new tight pants, filing the image away in his mind.
“I’m not too fond of doing this all without my armor, though.” Cody’s mouth turned down at the thought as he secured his blaster in place. “I feel naked without it.”
Trying desperately to banish thoughts of naked Cody from his mind, Obi-Wan nodded understandingly.
“It’ll go without a hitch,” he promised. “The target has no reason to recognize your face, or to suspect involvement from the GAR at all. A quick in and out, I promise.”
“Give me the plan one more time?” said Cody, pulling his leather gloves in place on his hands.
“Your name is Balaan Ford,” said Obi-Wan. “A smuggler working freelance for our target—Linza Geglissa. She’s a wealthy collector, with a special interest in Jedi artifacts.”
“Senator Mothma didn’t seem too pleased about the whole thing,” remarked Cody.
“No indeed,” agreed Obi-Wan. “Geglissa is Chandrilan, used to be high-ranking in their government, before she was caught embezzling money. The Senator is very eager for us to bring her to justice, and the Council is anxious for the return of the Amnen Tome.”
“That book with the lightsaber forms, right?” asked Cody, tightening the straps of his wrist gauntlets.
“It was lost many years ago, long before I joined the Order,” explained Obi-Wan. “If the sources are correct, she’ll have it in her gallery.”
“Alright,” said Cody, satisfied. He brushed the shoulders of his jacket playfully, shooting Obi-Wan a grin that had him feeling rather weak in the knees. “Ready when you are, then.”
Obi-Wan huffed a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded the crate in front of him that was to be his hiding spot.
“I’ll admit, Commander, this is not my favorite part of the plan,” he said, grumbling as he lifted himself into the crate, tucking his knees into his chest. The crate was just big enough to hold him if he curled up into himself. “This is going to be hell on my back.”
“I’ll be sure to move extra carefully, then,” said Cody. “Precious cargo, after all.”
“Honestly, I’m approaching forty,” he said snippily as Cody grabbed the crate’s lid. “Should be Anakin or Ahsoka in here, really—”
“Complaining, General?” asked Cody, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Not very Jedi-like.”
“Don’t tell the Council,” Obi-Wan said, shooting Cody a wink—then the lid was blocking the light, and he was settling into the quiet of the crate.
Obi-Wan waited patiently as the shuttle touched down and Cody activated the repulsorlift, pushing the hovering crate into the undoubtedly lavish estate. He listened as guards directed him in towards Geglissa’s private meeting room, breathing a subtle sigh of relief when nobody raised any alarms.
“Ah, you must be Mr. Ford,” said a rich, accented voice—presumably belonging to Linza Geglissa.
“In the flesh,” said Cody warmly. “And I must say, what an honor it is to finally meet you in person.” There was a rustle of fabric, and Obi-Wan assumed Cody was shaking her hand.
“Oh, my,” said Geglissa. “Such a gentleman! You never told me over the communicator how handsome you were, Mr. Ford.”
“And you failed to mention your elegance and grace, my lady,” said Cody, low and alluring. Obi-Wan swallowed—he had nothing to do but wait for his part of the plan. He couldn’t decide if he felt extremely lucky or extremely unlucky to get first-row seats to Cody’s smooth seduction game.
“Oh, you’re just saying that,” she said with a laugh.
“On the contrary, ma’am,” Cody said. “I’ve visited many planets in my travels—the forests of Ryloth, the mountains of Alderaan, the deserts of Mirial—but none of the women I have seen have possessed your poise, nor your eye for beauty.”
“I do like to collect beautiful things,” she purred. “Perhaps you’d be a worthy addition to my collections here.”
“The collections pale in comparison to the collector, a specimen to behold, dripping in jewels and the finest velvets—”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes from his spot in the crate—it was really a bit heavy-handed, wasn’t it? Yet, Geglissa seemed to be hanging onto his every word—all the better to get the mission taken care of.
“And you’ve brought my shipment of beskar?” she asked. Obi-Wan heard footsteps as she approached his hiding spot.
“Sure have,” said Cody, and Obi-Wan could only hear the tightness in his voice because he knew him so well. “100 beskar ingots, all present and accounted for.”
“I’ll need to take a look, of course—” she said.
“You don’t need to inspect the contents of the crate,” murmured Obi-Wan, closing his eyes to focus his full energy into the mind trick. It was difficult to do when he couldn’t see the target, and he sent a prayer up into the Force that it would still work.
“...I don’t need to inspect the contents of the crate,” Geglissa said, sounding a bit out of sorts.
“Very good, ma’am,” said Cody, an edge of relief clear in his voice. “I’ll take these into storage for you, and we can talk about payment.”
Obi-Wan felt his hiding place jolt as the repulsorlift cart activated, pushing him towards his goal—the collections would undoubtedly be home to Amnen Tome. Once Cody and Geglissa left the storage space, he’d be able to hop out and retrieve it, simultaneously collecting the evidence needed for Cody to make the official arrest. Smooth, simple, straightforward—no fighting needed.
“Right this way, Mr. Ford,” said Geglissa smoothly. Obi-Wan could hear the sounds of a digital keypad, followed by the swish of a door opening.
Just another moment for them to leave, and then I’ll—
“Finally, some peace and quiet,” growled Geglissa. “Now get over here, Balaan, and make me feel like a woman!”
Oh, thought Obi-Wan. Oh, no.
“Um, what?” said Cody, momentarily startled out of character.
“Come here and bring me those rippling muscles,” Geglissa said, and Obi-Wan could hear Cody yelp. “The guards won’t bother us in here—I need those sexy smuggler hands on me!”
Obi-Wan’s hand flew to cover his mouth in disbelief, his eyes the size of saucers, fighting the urge to laugh. He froze in place momentarily, half-tempted to leap out and draw his lightsaber to defend his commander’s honor.
Obi-Wan was pulled out of his momentary indecision by the sound of a light rapping on the lid of the crate—Cody was sending him the signal to keep going.
Oh, dear, thought Obi-Wan tiredly.
“I must say, ma’am, you’re almost too beautiful to touch,” said Cody smoothly. “I’d love to see you among your artworks—that throne over there seems like it would be one of few things in this world worthy to have you on it.”
“Oh, Balaan,” she purred. “No need to go easy on me—I can take it. But I do like a man who appreciates artwork—come, walk me over there.”
As their footsteps moved in the other direction, Obi-Wan risked a glance, lifting the lid of the crate to watch Cody’s back receding, alongside an elegantly-dressed woman in a long red dress. Muffling his movements with the Force, Obi-Wan hopped out of the crate, wincing at the soreness in his back and knees.
“I was right,” he could hear Cody saying. “If I did nothing but gaze at your majesty for a thousand years, I wouldn’t regret a second of it. You’re like a queen on your throne, and I’m your humble servant—”
“You do look good on your knees,” Geglissa said. Obi-Wan, sneaking as quietly as possible behind the rows of storage crates, had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his disbelieving noise inside.
“No better place to be, if I do say,” said Cody, pouring heat into his words. Obi-Wan swallowed hard—he had to do this quickly.
He searched the room quickly, tilting his head to try and sense where the Force resonated the strongest. A display case across the way caught his eye—inside was a battered book made of real paper, one that could only be the Amnen Tome. To get to it, Obi-Wan would have to cross directly in front of Geglissa’s line of vision.
Obi-Wan dared a few more steps forward, positioning himself behind a stack of crates out of Geglissa’s sight. He popped up, waving his hands silently to catch Cody’s attention.
Cody glanced at him over Geglissa’s shoulder. The woman had her hands on his shoulders, squeezing and complimenting his muscles, and Obi-Wan nearly gagged. Cody’s eyes were wide with a silent message to please hurry up.
Turn her around, Obi-Wan mouthed, making a circling gesture with his hand before ducking back out of sight. He prayed that Cody understood his message.
“It must be difficult work, maintaining a beautiful collection like this one,” said Cody, catching on. “I’m sure you’re exhausted from all that hard work.”
Geglissa tilted her head, confused. “Oh, trust me, Balaan, I’m wide awake—”
“How about a massage?” blurted Cody. “We want those muscles of yours nice and relaxed.”
“Oh, Balaan,” she said, delighted. “If you wanted to get your hands on me, you just need to ask!”
Cody grasped her by her shoulders, turning her away from Obi-Wan’s path to the tome. He shot a look towards Obi-Wan’s hiding place, finding him unfailingly and giving him a nod.
Obi-Wan crept towards the tome, trying not to laugh from the absurdity of it all. Geglissa was making noises like a holoporn actress as Cody massaged her shoulders.
“Ooh, your hands feel so good, Balaan,” she whimpered, and Obi-Wan saw Cody wince. He made eye contact with his commander, offering him a nod of encouragement, and Cody shot him an unimpressed look back, mouthing hurry up at him.
As it turned out, Geglissa hadn’t even secured her artifacts with any sort of security. Obi-Wan was able to lift the tome right off of its stand, tucking it safely under his arm. And right next to it—careless, but lucky—she had a datapad labeled BUSINESS PARTNERS. Obi-Wan snatched it with a grin.
“Oh, enough with the foreplay, Balaan!” cried Geglissa. “I need you now!”
Cody yelped as she slammed him unceremoniously against the wall—but any plans of ravishing Obi-Wan’s dear commander were abruptly canceled. Obi-Wan leapt back towards the center of the room, igniting his lightsaber with a flourish.
“Not today, you won’t,” he said, a little more harshly than perhaps was needed. Geglissa jumped, spinning around, an offended frown on her face.
“What—who are you? Guards—”
“You, my lady, are under arrest for embezzlement, smuggling, and robbery,” he said smugly. “Now if you please, come quietly and there won’t be any trouble.”
“What?” she demanded. “You—you can’t—Balaan, take care of this man!”
“Not a chance,” said Cody, grinning at Obi-Wan as he pulled out a set of vibrocuffs. Obi-Wan’s heart fluttered, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Oh, this is outrageous!” she said, wailing as Cody led her out of the room by her cuffed wrists.
All it took was one glimpse of their boss’ cuffed wrists and Obi-Wan’s ignited lightsaber for the guards to throw their hands up in surrender. The rest was routine—the rest of the 212th arrived, loading Geglissa onto the shuttle as she bawled about how unfair it all was and transporting her crates of artifacts onto the ship.
“Hey,” said a familiar voice, and Obi-Wan looked up, tearing his eyes away from the tome. “Is the book any good?”
“Oh, it’s amazing,” gushed Obi-Wan, unable to hide his wide smile as he locked eyes with Cody. “The forms in here—many of these forms are centuries old, if we are able to revitalize them, teach them to the padawans—we’ll be able to keep ancient traditions alive.”
“Well, I’m glad it all worked out, then,” said Cody, offering Obi-Wan a smile meant just for him.
“Sorry you had to do all of that, Cody, dear,” said Obi-Wan regretfully, but Cody just chuckled.
“Ah, there are worse things to do in this world than have a little flirt,” he said. “I’ll never turn down some practice.”
“Practice?” asked Obi-Wan curiously.
“No way of knowing when I’ll need to flirt with someone for real,” said Cody, gaze boring into Obi-Wan. “When the time comes, I want to be ready.”
“For a special someone?” asked Obi-Wan, feeling pinned by his gaze. He was unable to tear his eyes away from Cody—an explosion could happen right next to him but he would still choose to stay here, face close to Cody’s, a quiet harmony humming between them.
“Yeah,” Cody agreed. “A very special someone.”
Obi-Wan felt weightless, like he was floating. Cody’s eyes were warm, trained on his, and Obi-Wan wanted to say something, to do something, anything—
“Hey, General,” called a voice from behind him, and Obi-Wan leapt backwards, startled. Cody seemed taken aback as well, dropping his gaze quickly.
“Ah, what can I do for you, Crys?” he asked, subtly wiping his palms on his tunic.
“Just wanted to let you know we’re all loaded up, ready to head back to Coruscant,” said the clone trooper, offering him a salute.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Obi-Wan said, offering him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Back in the quiet of his quarters on the Negotiator, Obi-Wan groaned, running his hands down his face. He was being driven nearly to madness by Cody and his effortless, infuriating flirting directed at every sentient but Obi-Wan. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it but wait it out and hope his foolish, delusional emotions would sort themselves out in time.
When he fell asleep that night, he dreamed of Cody’s hands on him.
5
Obi-Wan was sure that every Force-sensitive being on this side of the galaxy could pick up on his seething. He felt about ready to throw something at a wall and stomp out of the room, like he used to as a padawan when Master Qui-Gon said something particularly frustrating.
He was vaguely aware that even Senator Organa had picked up on his sour mood, as he was occasionally shooting Obi-Wan worried glances, and tried to subtly ask if he was doing okay, a question that was resoundingly ignored.
He knew it wasn’t very Jedi-like to be so churlish, but every time he tried to take a deep breath and send his focus elsewhere, he looked over at Cody again, grinning at the handsome young Alderaanian baron with a charming twinkle in his eye, and promptly lost the battle against his own feelings.
“We’re just so glad Viceroy Organa was able to organize your visit to our humble village,” said the baron, laying a hand on Cody’s forearm.
Humble was not the word Obi-Wan would use, and he scowled at the baron’s ostentatious bejeweled robes.
Obi-Wan had been entirely on board when Bail approached him a week ago with his proposal—there were many smaller Alderaanian cities with the resources and housing to begin accepting refugees from various planets affected by the ongoing wars, if Bail was able to convince them.
“Would you and your commander be able to accompany me to some of the mountain towns, to get some visibility?” Bail had asked. “I’ll do all the politics, but I think the people would respond better if they could see who is out there fighting for their safety.”
Obi-Wan had readily agreed, bringing Cody with him to meet Bail’s first target—Baron Cedroveld of Locarno. Even thinking his name left a bad taste in Obi-Wan’s mouth. The young man had latched onto Cody immediately after their arrival, hardly listening to a word of Bail’s speech.
“Baron Cedroveld, with your assistance, we’ll be able to house refugees from the Abregado system, among others—” attempted Bail.
“Uh-huh,” said the Baron, still gazing at Cody. “Commander, is this your first time on Alderaan?”
“Sure is,” said Cody, shooting him a crooked grin. “And I must say, it’s been an outstanding visit so far.”
“Oh, please,” muttered Obi-Wan under his breath. He saw Bail shoot him a glance out of the corner of his eye.
“Ah, well—how about a quick tour of Locarno, Baron?” Bail said, once it became clear that the man was entirely uninterested in politics.
“I’d be glad to show you around, Commander Cody,” said Cedroveld. He glanced dismissively towards Obi-Wan. “And the others, as well.”
Obi-Wan did have to admit that the town was beautiful—it was located high in the Alderaanian mountains, like something out of a storybook with its rolling green hills, crystal-blue river, and charming, colorful buildings.
“Your town is lovely, Baron,” he attempted. Cedroveld looked at him, completely uninterested.
“Your compliment is appreciated, Master Jedi,” he said. “You know, Commander, we get a lot of snow up here in the winter months. It gets quite chilly here—have you spent a lot of time in the snow, Cody?”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.
“I’ve visited a few snowy planets in my time, but none as nice as this one,” said Cody. He had his helmet tucked under his arm, looking unbearably handsome and effortless. “I can almost picture sitting by the fireplace, sharing a blanket and a cup of cocoa with someone…”
The baron laughed, tucking his arm neatly into Cody’s. Cody did not push him away, and Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed.
“I’m sure that could be arranged, Commander,” he purred, sidling close to Cody and pressing his entire torso against Cody’s arm.
Obi-Wan contemplated igniting his lightsaber next to Cedroveld, just to scare him off.
“General Kenobi,” said Bail lowly, looking rather anxious. “This deal is very important. For the refugees.”
“I know that,” said Obi-Wan tightly, looking at Bail with annoyance.
“So, if everyone could be friendly to the Baron, we’d be more likely to get the deal secured,” he said tiredly.
“I’m being perfectly civil, Senator,” he said, gritting his teeth. Bail raised an eyebrow, but did not comment.
Cedroveld gestured towards a large building, leading their group across a stone bridge towards it.
“Oh, and over here, Cody! This is where we make our town’s main export—malla petal perfume. The finest and most delicate fragrance on the planet, many say so!”
“I bet it is,” said Cody, leaning towards Cedroveld. “Is that what makes you smell so lovely?”
Obi-Wan’s jaw was so tight it was beginning to ache. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cedroveld and Cody, walking arm in arm like they were on a romantic date instead of a political meeting. They seemed completely in their own world, not caring about the senator or the very angry Jedi trailing behind them.
“Would you like to smell, Commander?” asked Cedroveld, lifting his free hand up towards Cody.
“I’d be honored, Baron,” said Cody. His voice was low and a little gravelly, and Obi-Wan felt his traitorous heart flutter at the very sound of it.
Cody reached out, catching the baron’s wrist and bringing it up towards his face. He kept his eyes trained on the baron as he breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering slightly.
“Beautiful,” said Cody, trailing his hand up the baron’s wrist to hold his fingers lightly.
“Oh, aren’t you a gentleman, Commander,” said Cedroveld, laughing breathlessly.
“Only sometimes,” said Cody, amused.
Obi-Wan wondered if it was possible to light a fire with his eyes. He had never tried before, but if he were ever to achieve it, it would be right now. His gaze was glued on the duo in front of him. He hurried forward to catch up with them.
Obi-Wan suddenly felt his heart jump as his body went weightless for a moment before he was flailing, too unfocused to catch himself with the Force. In his desperation to keep his eyes on Cody and the baron, he had stepped right off the edge of the low stone bridge.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he landed ass-first in the river, gasping as the cold water soaked through his clothing.
“Oh, good lords,” he heard Bail mutter. The river was shallow, barely reaching his knees, so he was thoroughly uninjured in every way except his pride. He prayed vehemently to the Force to discorporate him on the spot. Obi-Wan pushed himself up, water streaming down his hair into his eyes.
Anakin will never find out about this, he vowed.
“Hey,” came a low, familiar voice, and then there was a hand on his elbow. Obi-Wan blinked water out of his eyes, and Cody came into focus in front of him.
Obi-Wan’s heart leapt. Cody was kneeling in the water next to him, amber eyes steadily trained on him.
“You alright there, General?” he said quietly, just for Obi-Wan. “Took a little tumble, huh?”
“I’m alright, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, a smile growing on his face, even as he shivered.
“Good,” said Cody, squeezing his elbow. “I’ll have the bridge promptly disassembled for tricking you like that. You’ve got my word.”
Obi-Wan laughed, delighted to have Cody’s full attention on him.
“Aren’t you cold?” said Cody. “I stashed a spare set of blacks on the ship, if you need to change. We can loop back—”
“What about the Baron?” asked Obi-Wan, trying not to let bitterness infuse his tone.
Cody snorted. “That idiot?”
Warmth infused Obi-Wan’s chest, counteracting the cold of the water.
“Just trying to get this deal for the Senator,” Cody said. “You know that.”
“I suppose I do,” said Obi-Wan. Cody helped him stand, his gloved fingers warm against Obi-Wan’s elbow and hand.
“Cody,” demanded Cedroveld petulantly from his place on the bridge. “Don’t you want to see the starblossom orchards? They’re really quite romantic—”
“I’ll have to get a rain check on that,” said Cody. “Gotta get the General cleaned up. You know how it is.”
He helped Obi-Wan step out of the river—Obi-Wan certainly did not need the help, but delighted at the feel of Cody’s hands on him, treating him like he was something delicate and precious. He couldn’t resist shooting a smug glance at the baron, who looked extremely put out at losing Cody’s focus.
“Ah, why don’t we get some of the boring parts out of the way while we wait for the General and Commander to return?” suggested Bail, jumping in. “Just a few signatures, really quite easy, then we can loop back and finish our tour.”
Cedroveld looked aggravated, but acquiesced, letting Bail lead him away.
Cody stepped back, looking at Obi-Wan with a serious look in his eyes, until Obi-Wan was sure he was going to say something important.
Cody snorted. “You look like a drowned tooka,” he said.
Obi-Wan laughed, covering his face with his hands.
“I’m such a fool,” he said, chuckling helplessly.
“Yeah,” said Cody. “But you’re my fool.”
Overall, Obi-Wan thought, it had been a rather successful mission.
+1
Obi-Wan had hardly had a chance to rest for the last two weeks—with the Chancellor’s death and subsequent end of the war, it had been downright chaos, between the surgeries to remove the clone troopers’ chips, the many Council meetings that devolved quickly into massive arguments, and—most importantly—the successful and healthy birth of Anakin and Padmé’s beautiful son and daughter.
Now, it seemed, there was only more to do—he had spent all day signing off on important forms regarding the clones and their transition to official citizenship, and his head was swimming with it all. He was almost ready to give up completely and find a quiet place to nap for a few hours when the door to his quarters slid open with a hiss.
Obi-Wan looked up and was startled to see Cody leaning on the doorframe. His commander was looking unfairly beautiful, his helmet off, a single curl escaping his tight hairstyle and falling gracefully across his forehead. He held a datapad in his hand.
“General,” he said in greeting.
“Cody,” said Obi-Wan, knowing his relief and adoration was probably audible in his voice, but not quite caring.
“You’ve been working on that datawork for an awfully long time,” Cody noted, nodding to the stack of datapads sitting on Obi-Wan’s desk.
“Well, there’s a lot to get through,” said Obi-Wan, rolling his shoulders back and wincing at the tension there.
“Take a break, General,” said Cody, striding into the room. “One more form, then a break. Okay?”
Cody could have told him to stand on his head and recite the Mandalorian alphabet backwards, and Obi-Wan probably would have agreed. He nodded, and Cody looked satisfied.
“What’s the form?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“A quick one, just needs one signature,” said Cody, handing Obi-Wan the datapad. Obi-Wan took it, and his eyebrows shot up.
“Cody, this is—”
“Form 41-213C. Decommission of a clone trooper from GAR service.”
Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped as he looked up at Cody, searching his face.
“For you?” he asked in a whisper.
“For me,” Cody confirmed. He stood in front of Obi-Wan’s chair, pressing the datapad into his hands. “Go on, General.”
Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat. If Cody wanted to move on, to be done with this whole war business, start his life as a free man—well, Obi-Wan could hardly deny him that.
“Alright, Commander,” he said, fighting back his rising emotions. He took the datapad from Cody’s hands, and all it took were three quick taps and a signature, and then it was done.
“Well,” he said. He knew his voice was shaking, and hoped Cody would have the decency not to mention it. “There you go, Cody. All set. No longer a soldier of the GAR.”
Cody accepted the datapad from Obi-Wan, tossing it almost haphazardly to the table beside him.
“Which means you’re no longer my commanding officer.”
Oh, is he really going to rub it in? thought Obi-Wan, feeling more and more like he wanted to escape this conversation and go have a good cry into his pillow until he felt better. He turned his head quickly, blinking back the tears pricking in his eyes.
“Obi-Wan,” said Cody, unbearably tender. There was a hand on his chin—Cody tilted Obi-Wan’s head towards him, bare fingers brushing Obi-Wan’s beard, and suddenly Obi-Wan couldn’t breathe.
“Has anyone ever told you your eyes are bluer and deeper than a hundred cerulean seas?” said Cody, voice suddenly low and rich.
Obi-Wan stuttered, speechless. Surely he had fallen asleep at his desk, passed out from exhaustion, and this was nothing more than a lovely, if unrealistic, dream.
“They could make a thousand sculptures of a thousand beautiful people and put them all in a museum somewhere, and still, when you walked in, you would put them all to shame,” said Cody. He tilted his head to look down at Obi-Wan, a small, fond smile on his face.
“Cody, what—” started Obi-Wan. His face felt hot, and he was sure he was turning bright red. Cody knelt down in front of Obi-Wan, grasping his hands, and grinned up at him.
“You are woven from sunlight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I am a simple flower basking in your light. I turn towards you every day just to feel your warmth on my face. You sustain me.”
Obi-Wan felt a tear slide down his cheek. He stared open-mouthed at Cody, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.
“Obi-Wan, I want to spend every day with you that you’ll have me,” said Cody, and his voice was warm and tender. “I want to make you laugh, and smile, and breathe deep and calm. I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night, so that all my dreams will be of you. I want to have every part of you, good and bad and stubborn and foolish and lovely and everything in between. I want to hear my name fall from your beautiful lips, and I want to know that you are mine and I am yours. I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My love for you is like the galaxy—it will never end. I am so deeply in love with you, and—”
Obi-Wan couldn’t bear it any longer. He surged forward, throwing his arms around Cody’s neck and kissing him hard on the mouth. Cody smiled against his lips, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his neck, and kissed him back.
It was probably not the perfect kiss, as far as kisses go—Obi-Wan was tear-streaked and frantic, pressing his mouth so hard against Cody’s that his nose was driving into Cody’s cheekbone. But Cody tilted his head, opening his mouth against Obi-Wan’s, murmuring affectionate words into his lips, and Obi-Wan felt like it was probably the best kiss the galaxy had ever seen.
“Yes, yes, Cody,” he said incoherently, sobbing, probably looking like a fool. “I love you, Cody, gods, I love you so much—”
Obi-Wan abandoned all rational thought, tugging Cody close again to plant another kiss against his beautiful mouth.
“You stupid, charming man,” he said, and Cody laughed, happiness radiating off of him. “You absolute flirt.”
“It’s you, Obi-Wan. Only you. Always has been.”
“Oh, my dear,” said Obi-Wan, cradling Cody’s face between his hands. “I’ll be yours forever, if you’ll have me.”
Cody leaned forward, resting his forehead against Obi-Wan’s. “Forever,” he promised, and Obi-Wan knew he meant it.