Work Text:
The first rays of light just began to paint the sky in orange undertones when Obi-Wan left the Temple.
Coruscant seemed almost placid, with its shops still closed and with some lonely early risers walking through its streets — such as himself, Obi-Wan thought wryly.
Even fewer speeders were about, which Obi-Wan preferred: he had no fondness for the tedious bustle of the busy hours of the afternoon.
He nodded to one of the clerks at the desk of the rental shop and passed them sufficient credits to allow him to keep a speeder for a week. The Ithorian didn’t ask questions and simply gave him the key.
They were used to his routine, after all.
As he drove at a sedate pace towards his destination, Obi-Wan huffed, trying to get comfortable.
After so many years of exclusive use, every time he didn’t wear his Jedi robes left him unbalanced, the familiar feeling of ease gone in the face of the plain civilian clothes he was wearing now.
A necessity, since he didn’t want anyone to associate a Jedi to where he was going, not keen of having his unauthorised vacation reaching the Council’s ears.
Even so, Obi-Wan thought with vague amusement and a touch self-deprecation at the deception he was weaving, they should have realised by now that his so called meditation retreats were not what he presented them as.
He shook his head, dispelling all the thoughts of worries and other Jedi related issues. He drove his speeder towards the wealthy apartments on top of one of the highest skyscrapers in all Galactic city, guiding it as soundlessly as possible to the parking port belonging to the apartment of his destination.
Unbuckling the security belt, Obi-Wan hopped down the speeder.
With two broad strokes, he tamed his wind-swept hair, righted his sleeves and adjusted a loose button. He nodded to one of the security personnel stationed outside and entered the apartment, looking for him.
Obi-Wan tried to be as silent as possible, knowing that his dear one was probably still asleep - hopefully getting a full night sleep free of nightmares this time. With quiet steps, he went towards the bedroom and entered the code. He paused, looking with resignation at the fully made bed. He shook his head, sighing. His dear one could be so stubborn.
Stepping inside the suite, he walked towards the attached spacious balcony and there, bathed in the soft light of the sunrise, was Anakin, sleeping.
Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks, mesmerised.
Anakin was wearing a long, feathered, pink sheer dressing gown. The colour softened him, his sharp features gentled while it also enlightened the strength of his lax, resting body; his mechno-arm a splash of black that only made the picture more alluring. His soft curls were splayed on the cushions of a settee of the same pink of his nightgown, making him look like a divine creature emerging from the petals of a flower in bloom. He was breathing softly, his plush, red lips another allure; his rosy, soft cheeks another treasure.
He looked like he belonged to a painting, his beauty so heart-stopping only a true artist could ever try to reproduce.
Not that Anakin would ever agree to such things.
It wouldn’t matter even if he did consent to pose for someone, anyway; Obi-Wan knew that whatever result would never compare to the real Anakin.
His darling, stubborn, beautiful boy. So pretty in pink he robbed Obi-Wan’s breath.
Obi-Wan took a step closer, trying to be as quiet as possible, but he must have alerted Anakin somehow. His beloved stirred, blinking his ridiculously long lashes, like the fluttery wings of a butterfly on its first timid tries, until the gorgeous blue of Anakin’s eyes was revealed and his gaze found Obi-Wan’s.
Then, with the sunrise shining behind him, Anakin rose and sat on the settee, lips blooming into delighted smile, the rays of the sun bathing him almost as if they were too admiring his beauty.
“Obi-Wan! You’re here!”
Even Anakin’s voice, still rough from sleep, sounded to Obi-Wan as sweet as the sweetest honey, and he could not stop his legs from bringing him closer to his star, unable to stop himself even if he wanted to - which he didn’t. He knelt before Anakin in reverence, almost in supplication, for he knew that his soul belonged to him no matter what stood in front of them.
“Of course I’m here,” Obi-Wan said, soft as he never quite let himself be unless he was with his beloved boy, exhaling a ragged breath when Anakin’s hands found their customary place in Obi-Wan’s hair. He leaned into the touch like a starved tooka, unashamed, for he would never deny Anakin’s touch.
In turn, he placed his hands on Anakin’s waist, relishing in the shiver that shook Anakin’s body, and the breathy sigh that followed.
“Did you doubt me, my dear?”
Anakin looked at him with a smile, a blush high on his cheeks, delight making him even more lovely in Obi-Wan’s eyes.
“No,” Anakin murmured, stroking the greying flecks Obi-Wan’s beard with the tips of his durasteel fingers, the feathers at the end of the hem of his pink robe tickling the skin. Devoted, Anakin kissed the mole under his eye, “I would never.”
Obi-Wan smiled, squeezing lightly Anakin’s waist, noting how little Anakin was wearing to cover himself from the cold of the morning air.
“Are you chilly, love? Do you want to go back inside?”
Anakin shook his head, his curls bouncing with the movement.
“Let’s watch the sunrise together. I want to stay here with you.”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan murmured, gathering Anakin in his arms as they watched the sun rise on the sky, its light bathing them in gold.
On their hands, two rings shined on the sun.