Chapter Text
In the lantern light of the commander's tent, Obi-Wan regarded Cody’s hair. He had never seen it this length before. It sat in dark, tight curls that reached a little past his ears. The clone preferred his hair to be short, in the traditional military-style, but the army’s campaign on the ice planet had gone on for long enough that he had neglected getting it cut. Obi-Wan was sure that his own hair and beard were longer than he usually wore it too, but he found that he also had no time for personal grooming between fighting. Cody’s back was to the general as he busied himself over a kettle in their make-shift kitchen. It was warm tea, to stave the bitter cold away. Even inside of the tent, Obi-Wan swore he could feel the sub-zero winds. “Thank you, Cody dear.” He said earnestly as he accepted the mug from the clone’s gloved fingers. As they brushed hands, Obi-Wan felt his chest become warmer. His proximity to the commander did more to heat him than the herbal tea he had been gifted ever could. Cody nodded to him, still wearing his armor in order to trap heat. Around his neck he wore a scarf that Obi-Wan had gifted him a little over a year ago. It was a burnt orange, to match the colors of the 212th. Obi-Wan had bought it on one of his unit’s rest cycles because it had occurred to him, while he stood in front of a vendor selling hand knitted wear, that he had never seen his commander in anything that resembled personal attire. He had resolved to fix that then and there and so it pleased him to no end that Cody had kept it and now wore it in the privacy of the tent.
“I do hope that you are keeping warm, commander.” Obi-Wan said cheekily. Cody, cheeks and nose still pink from the cold, replied:
“Trying to, sir. Although, it does feel like I’ll never be warm again sometimes.” Obi-Wan chuckled. He sat at a low table in the center of the tent on small, circular cushion. Cody knocked their knees together as he eased into his own seat. Obi-Wan let out a contented sigh as he sipped his tea and closed his eyes. He allowed his senses to dull as the hot liquid traced its way down his sore throat. He had felt rather under the weather lately, and had probably caught a cold from, well, the cold. He let out a small cough and opened his eyes to peer at Cody besides him. He was watching him with a worried expression, hands resting on his knees almost as if he was meditating.
“No tea for you, Cody?” Obi-Wan asked hoarsely. He wanted to change the clone’s concerned face and succeeded when Cody’s lips formed a soft smile. As Cody arched his eyebrow, his twisting facial scar moved with it.
“You know I can’t stand that flowery stuff, sir.” Obi-Wan smiled back at him. He hadn’t forgotten, he had just wanted to tease Cody.
“Caf, then.” The general declared, setting his mug down gently. He prepared to pull himself out of his cushion to get it for him when Cody reached out, gently placing his hand on his shoulder.
“I can get it myself.” He said sternly. Obi-Wan was inclined to agree after hearing the protest that his knees were singing him, aching in the cold. He must have been sicker than he realized, if his muscles were nagging at him this bad. As Cody got up again, Obi-Wan felt that he missed his warmth. He sat lonely and cold, feeling rather sorry that he had mentioned anything to him at all. As if he felt his displeasure, Cody sat even closer to Obi-Wan upon his return. This time, he pressed his armored thigh against Obi-Wan's. Smoke curled from the caf in front of him and framed his strong face. They talked war planning and strategy and troop movements until their mugs were empty. Obi-Wan had begun to feel the effects of his tea and was answering Cody’s questions slower and slower, struggling to hear his words over the low hum of exhaustion. The clone finally noticed.
“Sir.” Cody prompted, pressing his fingers gently into his thigh. Obi-Wan was surprised to find that his eyes had drifted shut.
“Oh. Yes. Sorry Cody.” His face and voice were flush with embarrassment.
“Sleep?” Although framed as a question, Obi-Wan knew it was more of an order. He nodded in agreement, the sudden weight of his head almost too much to move. Cody stood, and a groan and prompt cough left Obi-Wan's lips at the sudden loss of support to lean upon. Cody let out a low chuckle, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck, not for the first time, about how intimate their post-battle routines were. He felt a familiar feeling deep in his chest as he watched Cody unravel the knitted scarf at his neck and move on to his armor. The commander unclipped his chest piece, placing it carefully, reverently on the table. It’s white-grey, streaked and chipped from combat, reflected the light of the lantern that was set on the table. Cody continued this process with his shoulder armor and gauntlets. Painfully, agonizingly slow, he removed them. Often reaching behind his back, twisting his body to undo the clips. Underneath it all he wore fleece blacks, issued to all of the clones for the army’s icy escapade. Cody peered down at the general as he reached for the last of his leg armor. Suddenly aware that he had been caught staring again, Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. “Do you need me to help you undress too, sir?” Cody joked with a smirk and signature quirk of his eyebrow. He must have looked rather pitiful stuck in his cushion, cough rattling in his chest.
“Well now that you offer it...” Obi-Wan replied with equal jest. He did not, however, expect Cody to oblige. After a pause, Cody knelt down to where Obi-Wan was still sitting. The lantern threw a soft light over his face, casting the shadows of his long eyelashes across his cheekbones.
“You over did it today, general.” Though Cody spoke softly, the quiet and dark of the tent seemed to amplify his gravelly voice. The Jedi knew he was right. The longer the GAR stayed on this planet, the shorter the rest periods between battles felt. He knew that they were getting closer to breaking through the Separatist stronghold, and that there was still so much fighting to do until then. Obi-Wan just wished he could rest, especially in his sick state. He wished he could- his thoughts were interrupted as Cody's fingers reached out and began to undo the leather belt around his waist. In fact, any line of thinking vanished from his mind as he sat up straighter to allow Cody to slide the belt off, placing it on the table as carefully as he had placed his own armor. Obi-Wan could feel, could see, Cody’s breath crystalizing in front of him. His heart rate quickened but Cody’s eyes remained low, focused on the task at hand. His brows were furrowed in concentration, as serious as if this were a mission from command that he had been tasked with. His hands rested on the Jedi’s shoulders for a brief moment, as if to ask permission. Obi-Wan gave a small nod, his throat tight as Cody’s eyes finally rose to meet his. Obi-Wan was unsure what expression was projected across his features, as he felt that he could barely control his own emotions. Fatigue and illness had worn down his carefully crafted defenses. The clone looked at him affectionately. He was different here, Cody. In the commander’s tent, after a long battle, Obi-Wan supposed the clone’s defenses were equally as worn. Cody began to remove the general’s robe, unwrapping him from his warm, but battle torn clothing. Obi-Wan knew it was necessary to remove his dirty clothes, but he still shivered as his skin made contact to the air. Cody, observing this, removed his hands and stood up quickly. As he walked away, Obi-Wan realized he was fetching him a blanket and his own fleece shirt. Cody hesitated in front of the Jedi’s bare chest, as if he has suddenly become too nervous to continue. But that was unlike Cody. Cody was methodical. He was reliable, and he wouldn’t allow his general to freeze. And so, Cody eased the fleece shirt, the same color as his Jedi robes, over Obi-Wan's raised arms and wordlessly wrapped the heavy blanket around his shoulders. The blanket was military grade, grey and dull, but it did the job. Obi-Wan hummed his appreciation and Cody knelt to the ground again. Back to his task. Obi-Wan's eyes felt like led in his head, but he didn’t dare to miss a moment of Cody’s work. He uncrossed his legs so that the clone could begin to shimmy off his heavy snow boots. He felt a little silly, a little childish. He was a general and he had undressed himself after many battles before. Many hard, exhausting battles.
“I apologize Cody.” He said. His tone was earnest, if a little self-deprecating as he clutched the blanket even tighter around himself. “I am fully capable of putting myself to bed, and yet I have enlisted you to do it for me when you are probably equally as exhausted.” Cody finished removing his shoe and sat back on his heels.
“Nonsense, sir. I am always happy to assist you.” He spoke with such conviction that Obi-Wan was inclined to believe him. Obi-Wan smiled a tired smile. The old feeling rose in his chest once more.