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Cody huffs out an annoyed breath and puts his tablet back down on the stupid tiny plastic table in front of him with a scowl.
He can feel eyes on him, so he looks up, into stupidly pretty blue-grey eyes watching him with amused sympathy, a little crinkled around the corners. He knew the train had been filling while he'd been distracted, but the man sitting opposite him is ridiculously pretty. Suspiciously so. Cody doesn't trust it. It's unnatural. And from his general air of relaxed amusement and carefully neat little beard, being stupidly pretty is something he is well aware of.
"It's none of my business of course," the pretty man starts, with a conspiratorially amused smile on his stupid pretty lips, "but may I ask what it is that has you quite so vexed?" He has a horribly pretty voice as well. The bastard.
"Wedding planning." Cody tells him darkly. Scowling again just at the thought of it. "Seating plans."
"Yours?" He asks, eyes flicking subtly over Cody's fingers.
Cody raises an eyebrow a fraction, absolutely unimpressed.
"My brother's."
A charming smile is aimed in Cody's direction. It's somehow unrepentant, commiserating, and just a little mischievous. The pretty man nods knowingly.
"I understand completely. I've been roped in to help do my niece's, under strict threat of dismemberment should I attempt to deliberately facilitate drama."
Cody sighs, letting go of some of his grump in the comfort of joint suffering. And as tempting as engineering drama is, someone has to be the responsible one. For some reason, it always ends up being him. Which is frankly unfair.
"I'm just trying to work out which configuration of Fett's will generate the least shame on the family." He confesses.
The man opposite him freezes, gaze going laser sharp, and the barest beginnings of a delighted grin lighting up his face.
Oh no.
"Not Bly Fett?" He asks, pretty voice full of gleeful hope. "Bly and Ayla?"
Cody's caught between sighing because of course the pretty man talking to him on the train is somehow connected to the Fett's, and vicious relief because now he'll have someone to share the table planning misery with.
"Cody Fett." He introduces himself, holding out a hand. "Brother."
"Obi-wan Kenobi. Uncle."
His grin is blinding. And stupidly pretty. Like the rest of him.
"So." Kenobi says, rummaging in a satchel and pulling out a spiral bound notebook, "what do you have so far?"
"Very little." Cody grouses. "I'm mostly trying to work out where to put Alpha that will cause him the most suffering."
"Ah yes, I've met Alpha. I have to say, he's one of the least likely but most effective wedding planners I've encountered."
Cody rolls his eyes.
"He's a bastard."
An impishly innocent little smirk is aimed his way.
"As I said."
Cody doesn't quite manage to suppress an amused twitch to his lips. Kenobi catches it and smirks at him again, before tapping his pen thoughtfully against his notebook.
"Now, my biggest problem is Quin. Father of the bride, and unfortunately my brother. I'm afraid that while he does know how to behave, he simply chooses not to. He really isn't fit for polite company."
"If you think the Fett's are polite company, you're going to be disappointed." Cody tells him. "I'm mostly just hoping they won't start a brawl."
Kenobi looks up at him from under his eyebrows brows, deeply amused.
"Oh my dear, if there's a brawl I can assure you my lot will be up front and centre."
Cody huffs, reluctantly amused, and considers the issue.
"We could try putting him next to Fox. He's done with everyone's bullshit, and if you annoy him too much, he bites."
Kenobi quirks an eyebrow and hums consideringly.
"Quin is likely to find that rather appealing I'm afraid."
Pretty people with pretty voices should be banned from saying things like 'appealing'. Especially if they decide to say them like that.
"Will it be enough to keep him occupied and out of trouble?" Cody asks. Because that's what's important here.
"Oh yes. Nothing will distract Quin more than a grumpy handsome face."
This is accompanied by a self-aware amused look that makes the tips of Cody's ears burn. Which he ignores because he's going to use all the table planning help he can get.
"Then I am prepared to sacrifice Fox grumping about on the sidelines for the cause."
Kenobi doesn't quite manage to hide the start of a giggle, bringing his hand up to pretend to stroke his beard.
Cody breathes out slowly, relaxes his shoulders and lets go of the last of his own grumpiness. This isn't going to be nearly so much of a chore with help. Kenobi's help in particular. Cody actually likes him, which had not been in his plans for today. He's funny and charming and kind. And best of all, competent. Also, pretty, which should just be an unfair addition on top of the rest, but is somehow now just... him.
Kenobi looks up from his notebook and Cody can see as he registers the change in Cody's posture. Sees the smile grow on his lips, soft and pleased.
Cody lets himself smile back. Grateful.
"Who's next then?" Kenobi asks, smile growing.
Cody flicks through his mental list of annoying idiots.
"Wolffe." He decides. "He's the most feral."
"Hmm. We could put him next to Plo. How did Ashoka put it? Ah yes, 'mad dad vibes', I believe."
He scribbles something in his notebook, and Cody leans forwards a little to see. Kenobi turns it towards him and leans forwards as well, their heads close together.
Cody really shouldn't be surprised that even his handwriting is pretty.
"Now, do you have anyone I can inflict Kit on?" Kenobi asks, voice lower now they're closer together. "I'm sorry to say, he rather believes that clothing is optional. We're fortunate that he has a not unappealing physique."
"Monnk will be fine with that. He swims. Won't bat an eye at someone in Speedos. Even at a wedding."
"We'll be lucky if we can persuade him into that much." Kenobi grumbles quietly, and it's Cody's turn to hide a giggle.
"Hmm," Kenobi continues after his pretty smile grows and he's jotted down more names in his little notebook, "now do you have anyone we can put next to a cryptic meddling troll of a grandpa? I worry Mace will commit murder followed by a dramatic monologue if he has to spend any more time with him."
"Mace?"
"Our nominated responsible adult. He keeps threatening to make it my turn next year, so I'm doing my best to try and avoid that."
"Understandable." Adulting is overrated. "We should put Ponds between them." Cody decides, tapping at his tablet. "He's the closest to a responsible adult we have, we can see if Mace can get him to talk about his secret love of trashy romance novels while they judge everyone else's drama."
"That sounds perfect."
Cody's heart really shouldn't be warming like that over table plans. So he ignores it.
"Then we can put Thorn and Stone opposite Fox, shift your troll grandpa over here, and slot Gree in here..."
Cody has been studying strategy and tactics and analysing enemy manoeuvres for most of his life. It doesn't escape his notice that every revision of the seating plan has been carefully engineered so that he and Obi-wan are sat together.
When Cody moves himself to a different table, just to test the theory, Obi-wan's place doesn't follow him. The man himself just leans back a little in his seat, smile a shade disappointed, but not unhappy.
When Cody moves himself back again, grey-blue eyes narrow on his, suspicious.
"My dear, I thought I was being subtle."
Cody hums sceptically.
"Have we... sorted the seating plan?"
Cody states down at his tablet. Everything is in place. Everyone has a place. There will be last minute changes of course, but there's allowance for those.
That's weeks of his evenings suddenly freed up.
"Drink to celebrate?" He asks.
Obi-wan beams at him.
"My dear, I'd like nothing more."