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Not often does it snow on Coruscant.
Indeed, Obi-Wan’s not certain he recalls the last time it snowed on Coruscant. Well, before today, obviously.
He does recall the last time he personally experienced snow, though - a ghastly event about halfway through the war that had him shivering nonstop for three consecutive days until he was given leave to evacuate. Cody had laughed at him, laughed and laughed and pulled his gloves off to take Obi-Wan’s frigidly cold hands in his comparatively burning ones with that horrible “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you” attitude (it hadn’t worked; Obi-Wan hadn’t been laughing).
He doesn’t really have the best track record with snow.
But that was before.
This is after.
Now, he lies warm beneath his blankets, watching as fat snowflakes fall from what must be an overly exhausted weather moderation machine. He’ll never need to evacuate again, never need to take orders - at least not in wartime. Cody burns a long line along his front, all of him a stark contrast to the chilly picture that lies just outside Obi-Wan’s bedroom window.
Cody takes a deep breath under Obi-Wan’s arm, his hand finding the one Obi-Wan has slung over his waist.
Obi-Wan smiles as he feels Cody start to stretch his tired muscles; he tucks his nose against Cody’s neck, presses a kiss to the warm skin there.
Cody whines and flinches away, then presses back into Obi-Wan’s touch. “Why is your nose always so fucking cold,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He laces his fingers with Obi-Wan’s, yawns once, and then curls further still into Obi-Wan’s embrace.
“Force of habit, my dear,” Obi-Wan replies quietly, lips curling into a smile against the warmth of Cody’s skin, “forgot that I don’t need to reserve my resources anymore. I’ll allow the Force to flow back into my nose. My apologies.”
Cody takes a deep breath under Obi-Wan’s arm, then sighs it all out. “It’s too early for this.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Obi-Wan laughs, knowing exactly what he means.
“Is blaming the Force for your poor circulation not heretical?” Cody asks, finally turning over to face Obi-Wan just as the Coruscanti sun breaks through the snow-laden clouds. Cody’s haloed by golden light when next he knocks his knees against Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan can remember when he didn't appreciate that first morning sunlight, when he felt more annoyed by it than anything else— “I may not know overly much about organised religion, but it feels like it would be heretical.”
“Bordering, perhaps,” Obi-Wan murmurs, tracing his hand up from Cody’s back to tuck a loose elongated curl behind his ear, bites back a grin as it springs back into place. “But it has been my experience that the Force is very forgiving, and loves to laugh.”
“Is that why you kept dropping your stupid laser sword? To make the Force laugh - like you would a tubie? Even at my expense?”
Speaking of the Force laughing, she’s practically howling with it now. She loves Cody— somehow more than Obi-Wan, it feels like, some days. He’s fine with it, though; in fact, he agrees. Cody is the perfect companion: steadfast, loyal, understanding, trustworthy. He’s utterly capable - of taking care of himself, of assessing a situation and the best way forward, of handling an entire battalion. He has a sense of humour that he carried with him next to his blaster— no, next to Obi-Wan’s name carved on his chest plate, even throughout the entire war. It’s little wonder the Force loves him as much as Obi-Wan does.
“I rather think the Force loves how the Force will love. Sometimes she guides. Sometimes she embraces. And sometimes, she laughs.”
“And does your deity… make a habit of laughing at me?”
“Mostly at me. You do get caught in the crossfire on occasion.” Obi-Wan brushes the soft skin under Cody’s eye, “I’m afraid the proximity doesn’t do you any kindnesses.”
“Does that make you a favourite or a least favourite?” Cody asks, pressing into the touch. “I’m wondering if I should get closer or further away.”
“Closer, certainly,” Obi-Wan is quick to state, though he doesn’t care much to mention the mischief that the Force went through to push him perpetually into Cody’s path, “though I think the Force would rather keep up the illusion that she doesn’t pick favourites.”
“So you’re not a favourite. But you’re not not a favourite.”
“Precisely,” Obi-Wan preens. Cody is by far the favourite. Obi-Wan might be the closest second, but he still falls far behind. Best keep that part secret.
Cody sighs and holds Obi-Wan around his middle, snuggling impossibly closer still. He tucks his head under Obi-Wan’s chin, and Obi-Wan can feel his own heartbeat echo through Cody and back into himself.
And oh, isn’t that fitting. Obi-Wan’s very own beating heart beats louder still for Cody.
They stay like that a while, long enough that Obi-Wan’s eyelids begin to droop and Cody’s breath has evened out such that Obi-Wan thinks they might have a nice post-waking nap, until Cody shifts against him.
“D’you remember that time on Snokota,” he murmurs in question. “When we first shared a bed, and you tried to be so proprietary about it?”
“If memory serves, you were more nervous about the whole thing than I was proprietary,” Obi-Wan huffs.
“No!”
“You kept calling me sir until I practically begged you not to! We were sharing a bed! Who was proprietary in that?”
Cody pushes him over until he’s laying on his back, and brackets him between powerful arms. “I feel like I should get some credit for making sure you didn’t freeze to death,” he says, squinting playfully.
“You’re the one who brought it up,” Obi-Wan laughs. He reaches up to brush along Cody's cheek and then pull him down by the back of the neck.
Cody goes easily, his eyes slipping shut, and breathes carefully until they’re scant inches apart.
“I’m just making sure you have your facts straight,” he whispers against Cody’s lips.
Cody kisses him. It’s easy and simple, and little more than a light brush of lips before he pulls back. “Maybe we’ve both done a lot of growing up since then.”
Obi-Wan hums, and kisses Cody again. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Cody returns immediately, and it still makes Obi-Wan giddy, how novel yet right the words still feel. Only to be ruined by— “Did you want to go play in the snow?”
Cody’s already laughing by the time Obi-Wan pouts at him. “You’re terrible,” he says, not meaning it.
“I know,” Cody replies, not believing it. He presses one last kiss to Obi-Wan’s nose before he rolls out of their shared bed, pulling on one of Obi-Wan’s multitude of sweaters that come as gifts from the younglings - this one sized a touch too big, which fits Cody very nicely. “I’m making cocoa, do you want anything?”
“I’m coming,” Obi-Wan replies, and with a soft sigh of age catching up to him, he also gets out of bed, grabbing at a cozy blue sweater that came as Anakin’s first attempt at knitting, dropped stitches and all. “The tea for me, please.”
Not often does it snow on Coruscant, Obi-Wan thinks, but perhaps - watching fat flakes float past his window and blanket the Temple in a fresh coating that he knows will be taken to by the initiates and younglings like aiwhas to water - he’s open to it happening more often.