Work Text:
Ahsoka’s the one who mentions it to him. ForceCon. He’s heard of it vaguely before, it was a thing before the war. But it’s not like he ever went. Jedi, generally, don’t. It’s a convention for people who are fascinated by the Jedi Order and the Force, going puts a Jedi in the position to be mobbed more often than not. Also it’s just sort of… weird to be around people who are fans of the Force. Because that’s so fundamentally different to how the Jedi approach it.
The shallowness, that’s the problem, he supposes.
Still, Ahsoka asks.
“C’mon Skyguy! I’ve never been, I’m curious! Plus you’re supposed to be finding more normal stuff for me to do now I’m no longer a wartime Padawan, right? That’s what you said. What could get more normal than going and seeing what all these non-Jedi think of us?”
He could say no, he could. But Ahsoka’s looking at him with wide, guileless eyes and a small, humorous smile. She’s gotten so serious and reserved in the last two years. Smiling less, laughing hardly ever. Keeping her pain and struggles to herself.
The war shaped them all, but none more than her and the other Padawans who had to grow up so quickly in the middle of it. She’s never had the experience of apprenticeship that he did in his early years at the Temple. She’s only known battle and bloodshed. The Council are worried about the Padawans like her. What kind of Jedi will they become in the future if their Masters cannot alter the course of their training now?
Anakin agrees. The war changed him almost beyond recognition, but it did a lot more than that to Ahsoka.
“Alright.” He acquiesces with a sigh.
Despite the clumsiness of the point, she wasn’t wrong. This may not have anything to do with her training, but she needs to have light hearted experiences too. They need to have mundane days together and she needs chances to just sit back and laugh.
And he is a little curious. Of course he is.
“Yes!” She throws her fist into the air.
“But,” He holds up one finger chidingly, “if I get mobbed you’re creating the distraction.”
She rolls her eyes and replies, “Fine Master, if you need me to save you so bad.”
He scoffs as she turns away, but not fast enough for him to miss her look of amusement. He shakes his head. Teenagers.
⟡⟡⟡
The convention hall is packed when they arrive. It’s a large, high roofed room absolutely full of sapients.
Most look like Coruscant locals but Anakin’s keen eye spots some folks who carry themselves like tourists. He didn’t realise ForceCon was big enough to draw in crowds from off-planet. The way civilians mythologise the Jedi endlessly baffles him.
He and Ahsoka are wearing their robes. He, his classic dark synthleather, and her the more standardised but sleeveless pale orange robes she’s taken to in the last few months. Throughout the war she never wore standard robes much and he’s not really sure where the change came from either. He’s never thought it important enough to ask about.
His eyes flick from one convention goer to the next to the next. He worried them wearing Jedi attire would immediately draw a significant amount of attention, but it seems he was wrong. Everywhere he looks there are civilians in fake Jedi robes. The cuts are a little off, or the material is of lower quality, or the colours are ones you’d hardly ever see a Jedi in. Bright purple, in one particularly dramatic instance he notices and tracks with his eyes.
The small errors are easily noticeable to him and more than likely Ahsoka too. But the general fact that every fourth or fifth sapient in the space is dressed like they are means they’re not drawing attention. Only the very eagle-eyed are likely to pick out the difference in their dress. Anakin is no longer so concerned, meaning he can actually relax somewhat. Just a little.
He lets Ahsoka lead them in whatever direction she thinks is interesting. The first place she heads is towards someone speaking in front of rows of chairs. They hang back, choosing not to sit down. The speaker, it turns out, is talking about the Force in detail. They listen in for a few minutes. The speaker clearly isn’t sensitive, Anakin can feel that from this distance away, but they’re fairly knowledgeable all things considered. The entire thing is a bit… simple, but Anakin does find it interesting to get a peak at the perspective of someone studying the Force from outside the Order. The Jedi value diversity of knowledge, and differing perspectives are always useful.
Ahsoka does get bored after twenty minutes or so and inclines her head, silently suggesting they move on. He nods and follows her away quietly.
She stops by the corner hosting a competition for people dressed up as Jedi. But they don’t get too close. They’d literally be cheating if they entered. Which Anakin has no qualms about, but it would probably give away that they’re really Jedi, so he puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her at a distance.
Looking in on the competition reveals that some of these people dressed up like Jedi have taken artistic liberties with Jedi robes. There’s one person in the lineup who is wearing tabards that have been finely embroidered with a vine pattern all over. When they win third place and the announcer talks about their get up Anakin realises the twi’lek wearing them did all of that embroidery themself. Which is pretty impressive. Not something you’d ever see in the Temple though.
“Hey do you think I’d get away with wearing something like that Master?” Ahsoka looks up at him, expression hopeful but also a touch impish.
He laughs.
“I doubt it. I wouldn’t go to all the effort making that before finding out if you’ll be allowed to wear it either, if I were you.” He replies.
She pouts.
“They let you wear synthleather.” She mutters sullenly.
He swallows a groan.
“You’ve already gotten away with not wearing the robes for a long time. Try it if you want Snips, but don’t come crying to me if you get an hour long lecture from one of the Masters about it.” He says wearily.
“The Jedi used to wear lots of different patterns you know. It’d be like returning to an old tradition.” She adds softly as she leads them away to her next destination.
He bites back the urge to snicker. He remembers using the exact same excuse when he designed his tabards. It didn’t work out very well for him but he’s not going to tell her that. He’d rather see her try it and experience it fail, for herself.
Ahsoka’s next stop is the booths. She weaves through the crowds, stopping at just about every stall they pass. Some are interesting. One is selling replica lightsaber hilts which has him pausing in mild alarm. But he quickly realises he can’t feel the hum of kyber in the Force. The hilts are just decorative metal, nothing more.
He doesn’t know what he feels about the faux, clip-on Padawan braids he sees at one booth Ahsoka actually stops at to properly browse. It feels a little heretical to him, but he keeps his mouth shut.
He discovers why Ahsoka’s stopped when she carefully picks out a transparent bead with a beautiful design painted through it from a dish full of beads and takes it to the vender.
“Ahh, that one?” The vender utters cheerfully.
“Yes please.” Ahsoka smiles politely.
Anakin watches on silently, heart softening despite himself.
When she’s paid for it she turns to him and presents him with the bead.
“Will you put it on for me?” She asks, a bit of shyness making its way onto her face.
He takes it from her gently and silently, nodding. Beads generally signify achievements for Padawans, but they do sometimes add them just for decoration. Another bead means Ahsoka will have to wear her string longer, and perhaps that is the point. It hasn’t lengthened since she became his Padawan in the first year of the war. If she had hair, the braid would have grown longer in those years, showing her time training.
Anakin undoes the bottom of the string holding her silica beads carefully to avoid any falling off, and adds the new, different bead below the rest. She’s chosen well; it matches her silica beads while obviously being of a different material. He redoes the bottom and drops the string. He sort of wishes Obi-Wan were here to see this. It feels a bit wrong to have the small moment of ceremony without him considering how involved he is in Ahsoka’s training. Anakin hasn’t forgotten the few times Obi-Wan has referred to her as their Padawan. Shared. He’s never repeated the sentiment out loud. Feeling too much like it’d make him sound like he can’t handle the responsibility of a Padawan but…
But his heart squeezes every time he thinks of his Master saying it. It feels right in a way. Obi-Wan is her other Master, at least informally.
I thought it could symbolise the war ending and the struggle of us trying to return to training as peacekeepers, Ahsoka’s thoughts drift down their training bond to him.
The corner of his mouth lifts. The bead does have a meaning then, it turns out.
A good sentiment, I like it. He sends back to her.
She blinks up at him and smiles.
The bead glitters in the light, catching his eye. The way it refracts is surprisingly distracting actually. He wonders if Ahsoka picked it for that quality or if that was accidental.
“Be sure to show him when we head to our quarters after this, he should see. You picked a good one.” Anakin comments lightly.
Her smile broadens.
“I will!” She chirps.
“Sorry, if you don’t mind me interrupting…” The vender’s voice cuts in just as Anakin begins to turn to head to the next stall. He glances back at the woman, waiting for her to finish her thought.
The vender gives him a bright, eager look.
“I just wanted to say your Anakin Skywalker cosplay is very accurate! You look so similar to him!” She compliments excitedly.
Anakin opens his mouth, no sound escaping, as he flounders. The vender turns to Ahsoka.
“And he really has a togrutan student too! The two of you are paired up so well!” She adds.
Anakin strangles a laugh in his throat as he meets gazes with Ahsoka who also looks like she’s trying not to lose it.
“Anyways,” The vender flaps her hand, “you can be on your way, I just wanted to say that is all! I’m sure you’re getting lots of compliments on how convincing your costumes look!”
Anakin gives her a strained, polite smile as Ahsoka says, “Uhh thank you very much!” in a suspiciously shaky voice.
They both walk away quickly and as soon as they’re a short distance away Ahsoka bends over and laughs out loud, clutching her stomach. Anakin’s lip twitches and then he can’t help himself and he’s chuckling too. They both grow serious after a minute and Ahsoka gives him a teasing look.
“Your cosplay really is immaculate Skyguy, I’d never know you aren’t actually Anakin Skywalker!” She says mockingly.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head good naturedly.
“Cosplay means costuming?” He asks lightly as he follows her to the next stand.
She hums, “Yep! Usually of characters or like… well the Jedi are an organisation but you get it.”
“Sure.” He mutters as he’s distracted by the spread of comics in front of them.
He scans the tabletop and picks up one of the bound flimsi comics at random, reading the cover more closely.
It’s a comic about Jedi. None he’s ever heard of though. His eyes catch the disclaimer at the bottom. *Not about any real life Jedi, an entirely fictional story.
Well, it’s Jedi fiction then. This he is familiar with. Vaguely anyway.
He’s known of Jedi fiction and holofiction since he was fourteen. He’s not seen or read much of it because it always tends to be overdramatic and also involve the Force being used in ways that don’t make sense and aren’t possible.
This cover depicts an iktotchi Jedi Knight fighting a great swamp monster. The glow of their green lightsaber brightening up the entire scene. It’s a striking shot at least. He flicks through a couple pages, seeing the same iktotchi repeated over and over in panels of them talking to people and some such. He puts the comic down.
Ahsoka appears to actually be browsing the comics, causing him to stare at her. She’s not seriously going to use her meagre spending allowance on one of these is she? The bead he understood, but Jedi fiction?
“We good to go to the next stall Ahsoka?” He asks, trying not to look sceptical when she glances at him.
He perhaps fails if her answering expression is any indication.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She answers, stepping away and moving on.
They look over plushies and booths full of junk like rocks that are supposedly Force sensitive, but Anakin can tell are completely inert. He’s starting to get a bit bored when Ahsoka visibly lights up and skips over to a new booth.
This one has a sign hanging over it that says ‘The Team Merch’ overlayed on the Open Circle symbol. He straightens and joins her, paying closer attention. This is actually interesting, and potentially very weird.
Most of what they’ve seen so far has been generally about the Jedi, not targeting particular members. In part because there aren’t, or at least weren’t before the war, that many Jedi that are known by face and name to the masses. The Master and Grandmaster of the Order maybe, but even then…
It’s one of the things the war changed. The Senate… well, the Chancellor’s office decided that the Generals should have their faces plastered on propaganda posters across the Republic. At the time he claimed it was to bolster support for the Jedi in the war and to bring comfort to citizens of the Republic in uncertain times, showing them that they were being protected by the peacekeepers.
Anakin rather suspects it had a more nefarious purpose now. They were all so blind back then, and no one more than him, to have missed the truth of the darkness at the centre of the Republic. To have missed that the Chancellor was the Sith.
Anakin is still reeling from that, and he tries not to think too much about it most days. The betrayal of one of his closest friends stings so very painfully every time his mind turns to it. It threatens to send him spiralling on especially bad days.
So he banishes the train of thought to the depths and studies the contents of the stall. At first glance it looks like about what he’d expect from those who are apparently fans of ‘The Team’. Pictures of Anakin, pictures of Obi-Wan. All blown up and printed on wall tapestries and such. It’s weird but not anything he was unaware of.
But as his eyes linger, he starts to notice more. Splayed flat in front of them is drawn art of him and Obi-Wan together. The first few pieces he sees are innocuous. Just the two of them in battle stances standing side by side. But then…
He reaches out to push an art print aside so he can better see what is beneath it.
Art of him and Obi-Wan passionately embracing and kissing each other on the mouth.
He stares at it, utterly thrown.
“Master what are you looking at there-” Ahsoka pipes up, voice cutting off abruptly when she spots the art.
“Oh.” She breathes out.
“Err why… why are they selling this?” His voice is a slight strangled as he speaks.
Thankfully the vender is busy with excess stock at the back of the stand and not actually hovering over them listening in. He decides to drop into Togruti anyway, since there are low odds of them understanding him.
“Well-” Ahsoka starts in Basic.
He shakes his head quickly and cuts her off in Togruti, “I mean why… Do they think Obi-Wan and I do that? Are they speculating on our relationship or something? It’s ridiculous. We’re not celebrities in the tabloids we’re Jedi.”
Ahsoka makes a bit of a face at him, probably because of his pronunciation. He’s not brilliant at speaking the language but he decided to learn enough to become at least passably fluent when he found out she’d studied to become a completely fluent speaker. Languages aren’t his strongest suit but he’s good enough in Basic Standard, Togruti and Bocce. He’s truly good at Binary, and he’s a native speaker of Huttese.
She stares at him blankly for a long moment before answering slowly, “You two are together, they’re not exactly speculating… just assuming that you kiss in private and away from the public eye.”
When his brain translates the words through Basic into Huttese he gives her the flattest look he can muster.
“Snips what the kriff are you talking about?! Obi-Wan and I are not… not… this!” He waves at the picture.
And as he gestures broadly his eyes finally find the stack of art with a large censored image and spiced pepper on the front. Putting his body between it and Ahsoka, he quickly lifts the top piece away and skims a few of the prints. They’re exactly what the warning implied they might be.
They’re art of him and Obi-Wan having sex.
He replaces the top pieces quickly and steps back.
Anakin’s no prude but he’s very tempted to grab the vender by their front and shake them until they promise to stop selling these. The thought of taking his lightsaber to the stack of art also occurs to him but he stays his hand as Ahsoka turns him back around.
“Master,” The word translates very strangely in Togruti indeed, but Anakin lets that go as she enunciates slowly like when he was first learning the language, “the two of you spend practically every minute together. This is the only time outside of training that we’ve done anything without Master Obi-Wan with us since the war ended! You still share quarters years after your Knighting. You’re… you’re training me together, which is practically unheard of in the current era of the Order. I don’t know how to tell you this, but everyone knows you’re dating. It’s not a secret, if you think it somehow is.”
“Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and I are not dating. We’ve never…” His eyes fall back to the picture of them kissing. It’s more like they’re devouring each other’s mouths in the art, actually. He points at it.
“We’ve never done that. Never! Why on Coruscant would you think we are? Why-”
She puts a palm out to silence him and massages her forehead for a minute.
“Are the two of you going to buy something or are you just going to stand there fighting about whatever it is you’re fighting about?” The vender interrupts.
Anakin’s head whips to them and finds them giving him a distinctly unimpressed look. He’s suddenly reminded that they’re generally in public and he curses quietly.
“Sorry, we’ll just…” He guides Ahsoka away to a gap between booths. A dark corner no one will disturb them in for the minute. He crosses his arms and glowers down at her. She lifts her chin and frowns up at him.
“He and I aren’t together.” Anakin reiterates calmly, in Basic this time.
“…Really Skyguy? I’m me, do you think you can fool me? I see the way you stare at each other lovingly or whatever all the time, it’s frankly gross. And okay sure you don’t kiss in front of me, and I appreciate that, but you stand in each other’s space constantly. You touch each other constantly. You go on almost every mission together, with or without me. I already mentioned the part where no other Padawan in the entire Temple has two Masters didn’t I? I don’t know how much more dating you could get, as Jedi. Especially with how reserved and poised Master Obi-Wan is, and all that.” Ahsoka lays out primly, looking smug as she finishes. Like she thinks he won’t be able to deny the truth now.
Anakin feels a bit like a wire has come loose in his brain somewhere and he’s malfunctioning. He and Obi-Wan aren’t dating. That’s a fact. It doesn’t matter that Anakin wishes Obi-Wan would see him that way, that his Master would want him that way, it isn’t the case.
But… but the thing is Ahsoka isn’t lying about any of those things either. And she’s not just reading his suppressed feelings from his actions, she’s reading into Obi-Wan’s actions too.
It’s true that no other former Padawan goes on so many missions with their old Master. It’s true that no others still share Master and apprentice quarters so long after Knighting. Knights move out the same day they are Knighted, generally speaking. Anakin simply hadn’t because of the war. It hadn’t been a priority. And then they were hardly at the Temple anyway so there was no point.
Once the war came to a sudden end and the Chancellor’s treachery was revealed Anakin was glad that he’d never moved out. In the wake of the war Padmé and he came to a swift and brutal end, mutually deciding on divorce once it became apparent they wanted different things. Losing two of his closest people in such a short period caused him to cling all the tighter to what he still had in the aftermath. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. Still sharing quarters with his Master had been a relief. It meant Anakin could keep close to him easily. Could soak up what affection his Master saw fit to offer.
And it has been… slightly more, since the Sith’s fall. Obi-Wan knows, Anakin knows… that he nearly Fell. That he teetered close to the edge in the final days of the war. That the Dark called to him, and he almost listened and followed it down.
Obi-Wan has seemed so relieved that Anakin is still with him, that he didn’t step off that edge, that the Jedi Master has unclenched a little. Offered hands squeezing shoulders and biceps and wrists a little more freely. He’s sat a little closer and smiled a little more freely in that disarming, genuine way of his.
Or perhaps it is Obi-Wan’s silent showing of support in the wake of Anakin’s divorce. While Obi-Wan doesn’t know Anakin broke the Code by marrying, he did know there was something unnamed between Anakin and Padmé. Unnamed and unacknowledged for the sake of Obi-Wan’s deniability. But unquestionably there. And Obi-Wan has picked up on the fact that he and her have parted ways permanently. Obi-Wan hasn’t said anything but the silent support has been extremely welcome.
Anakin hasn’t said anything for fear of causing Obi-Wan to retreat but…
“But… but all of that is just normal. That’s just how we are. We’ve never kissed or- or- any of the things couples do. I’m not pranking you Ahsoka.”
Ahsoka’s face grows flatter.
“Okay so you somehow didn’t notice you’re dating Master Obi-Wan. What do you want me to say?” She shrugs helplessly.
“I didn’t notice?” He repeats in a shrill tone.
The silence holds as it really sinks in.
“…I didn’t notice.” He whispers, floored.
Has he had exactly what he’s wanted for months without even realising it?
It… it seems like he has.
Ahsoka reaches out to pat him with very obvious condescension.
“I’m going back to buy some Open Circle stickers and then maybe we call it for the day? Head off? I’d like to get some fried food before we go back to the Temple, if there’s time.” Ahsoka remarks.
Anakin turns on his heel, feeling a bit strange and floaty from his revelation. His head is sort of spinning, and his heart is jackhammering in his chest, but he’s listening to her words.
“Sure, sounds good.” He replies distractedly.
He’s come back to himself by the time Ahsoka’s finished paying for the merch she wants from the booth, so he’s able to pause and consider whether he wants to grab anything himself.
He caves and grabs a couple of Open Circle stickers too. And then looks at a few that depict him and Obi-Wan kissing. A different piece of art to the one he first saw, in a different style. There’s more of this, so it would seem. He pauses and then grabs one of those too. If nothing else he wants proof to show Obi-Wan what he’s discovered about their fans.
⟡⟡⟡
Ahsoka, predictably, gets fried nuna when they stop for a bite. Anakin rolls his eyes but says nothing. He knows she loves the stuff and it’s not worth the argument.
He’s quiet most of the way back to the Temple, just thinking about what he’s going to say to his Master and partner. That word has never held quite the weight or meaning it does now.
He likes it. He does. But he’s scared.
Of course Anakin is scared. He’s lost so much in the wake of the war. He couldn’t survive losing Obi-Wan too.
But he doesn’t think he will. He’s starting to realise… maybe he actually has a real chance. Maybe he has all along.
⟡⟡⟡
It’s getting late by the time they finally step into his and Obi-Wan’s quarters. It’s well past latemeal. But Obi-Wan is sitting on their couch reading a holojournal like he was just waiting for them to return. He puts it down, looking up and smiling warmly at them both as they enter.
“Well, how did you adventure go then? Any calamities?” He teases.
Ahsoka darts past Anakin, who’s slowed just inside the room, eyes locked on Obi-Wan as his chest grows tight.
“It was interesting! A lot of folks were dressed up like Jedi actually, way more than you’d think. Someone complimented Master on his Anakin Skywalker costume. It was really hard to keep a straight face when that happened.” She laughs as she glances back at him.
Obi-Wan also looks at him, sharing in her mirth with a light chuckle.
“That certainly sounds amusing. Is that all?” He queries.
Ahsoka shakes her head. She straightens her back and clasps her hands together, rising up onto her toes and then back down. A nervous gesture Anakin is familiar with.
“I actually picked out a new bead for my thread from a booth that was selling them…” She tilts her head and takes her string of silica in hand, pulling it forward so the seated Jedi Master can see it.
“Oh that’s lovely Ahsoka.” He glances at Anakin. “Does it mean anything?”
Ahsoka hums, pulling Obi-Wan’s eyes back to her. They lock gazes silently for a long second, revealing that they’re communicating through their bond.
That’s a newer addition to their dynamic as a trio. While Obi-Wan has been a part of Ahsoka’s training basically since the very beginning, they didn’t formalise it to the degree of sharing a training bond. Ahsoka asking them both if it would be okay to do was something that came after the end of the war. Obi-Wan had agreed and Anakin hadn’t protested.
A few years ago something like that might have made him feel left out or like she thinks he’s an inadequate Master. And if it was anyone other than Obi-Wan maybe he still would but things are different with his Master, especially now.
Kark, she really is right. He and Obi-Wan truly are a thing. And he didn’t even notice.
Obi-Wan’s face turns tender and his eyes briefly flick to Anakin before returning to the Padawan standing in front of him.
“That’s a wonderful thought Ahsoka, you chose well.” He praises softly.
Ahsoka inclines her head. Not a true bow but a less formal show of deference.
She looks at Anakin and her eyes are too knowing for his liking, she seems to see right through him.
“Well I should be going, it’s getting late. Thank you for going with me Master, it was very informative. I feel like I learnt a lot about how the Jedi and the Force are perceived by others beyond the Order.” Her words are stiff and awkward, possibly deliberately so. She nods at him and skips past him.
At the last second she winks at him and an incredulous laugh climbs up his throat. His Padawan is trying to offer him a boost to his courage, how absurd. He shakes his head and steps further into the room as the door swishes open and closed behind him.
Obi-Wan’s staring after Ahsoka bemusedly as Anakin slowly approaches and sits down beside him on the couch.
“She was in quite a hurry it would seem. Did you enjoy yourself Anakin?” He turns to Anakin, voice softening on the question.
Anakin searches his face, looking more intently than he has in a long time. Trying to feel the truth in the Force as he digs for any evidence.
There’s nothing different in Obi-Wan’s face and signature to any other day, but… but there is love. The plain, simple, unassuming kind. Not earth shattering, not big and dramatic and loud. Just constant. Just true.
It’s always been there.
Anakin’s known it, at least a bit. He’s not been so blind as to believe his Master never cared. Of course he knew. But it never occurred to him that it could be like this.
That Obi-Wan could love sharing quarters and space with him, not just tolerate it. That Obi-Wan could be the one pushing to share missions over and over because he wants to be by Anakin’s side, not because he worries that his former student isn’t good enough.
There is love in the corners of Obi-Wan’s expression, and Anakin is finally seeing it for what it is. Devotion in it’s rawest, most mundane form. The kind of love that doesn’t ask and demand what can’t be given. The kind of love that is patient.
“Anakin?” Obi-Wan tilts his head, brow furrowing.
Anakin shakes himself, remembering that he’s been asked a question and sat there silent for minutes.
“Yes, we both learnt a lot. Some of it useful. Some of it… perplexing.” He wets his bottom lip and swallows.
Anakin jumps into everything head first, it’s true. But this doesn’t feel like something to sprint straight at without a thought. That’d feel like mishandling something important. This needs more care and consideration than that. And contrary to popular belief he is capable of those things, when the situation calls for it and he’s determined enough.
“Oh? I dread to ask, but what was so perplexing?” Obi-Wan prompts.
Anakin pulls out the stickers he bought. The Open Circle is at the top of the small stack. Obi-Wan’s gaze flicks down to the objects in his hand.
“Ah, found someone who was a fan of the Team, did you?” The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth turns up in amusement.
Anakin nods, swallowing. Why is his mouth so dry?
“It was what you’d expect mostly at the stand. Pictures of us, all that. But then…” He takes a deep breath.
“There was this art of us people had drawn. And in some of it…” Anakin switches the stickers.
Now resting on top is a heart with a little drawing of them kissing in the centre. Unmistakeable for anything else.
“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s face slackens as he looks, then his eyes find Anakin’s face searchingly.
Anakin gives him a reassuring smile and explains, “I didn’t know how much people see us that way. I never… it never occurred to me that we’re together.” He breathes the word, shaky but reverent. Trying to express with his eyes what he thinks of the idea.
Obi-Wan stares into him, scrutinising his reaction to the concept.
“You didn’t know?” He checks, voice quiet.
A lump forms in Anakin’s throat. This is real. It’s really real.
“I didn’t.” He confesses.
He leans forward a little, and Obi-Wan’s hand suddenly circles his wrist, just holding it gently. But the touch is a message, asking Anakin not to rush in too quickly.
It grounds him, reminding him they’re not done talking. Even though he’s desperate to kiss Obi-Wan’s lips, now he’s sure that the touch will be welcome.
“Do you want to be?” Obi-Wan’s question creates a fragile energy between them. One wrong word will shatter everything, Anakin knows. But he also knows exactly what to say, there are no doubts in his mind or his heart. Not about this.
“Yes. I’ve never wanted anything more.” He answers.
With that the dawn breaks across Obi-Wan’s face. A tender wonder and joy coming over him. A smile slowly stretching his lips and overtaking his expression.
“That’s good, because I like being with you a great deal Anakin. I cherish it deeply.” Obi-Wan tells him softly.
“Then why haven’t you kissed me before now? You wouldn’t have even needed to ask. I’d have let it happen anytime if you’d just done it.” Anakin pleads, needing to know why he had to be the one to bring this up. Why he had to find out from strangers that they could be doing this.
Obi-Wan’s hand carefully cups his jaw, so warm against his skin, and a touch clammy. Anakin doesn’t mind though. It’s reassuring to know he isn’t the only one affected by all this.
“I was waiting until you were ready, my dearest heart. You’d only just walked away from your last relationship. I wasn’t going to rush you.” Obi-Wan explains.
Anakin trembles at the term of endearment, feeling like his heart might burst. It’s beating so rapidly beneath his ribs, like the wings of a humming peeper.
“Kiss me.” Anakin begs, all patience lost. “Please Master, I’ve been waiting years. Forever, it feels like. Kiss me. I’d have been doing this for months if I knew I could have this. That we are this.”
A touch of exasperation enters Obi-Wan’s expression at his insistence, but Anakin’s been the most patient in his entire life actually. Especially with all these months on top of everything else. The fact that he didn’t know then that he was missing out doesn’t make it any less true.
Slowly, so slowly it’s agonising, Obi-Wan leans in. Anakin lets his eyes slip closed when his Master’s nose brushes his own. He feels the slightly tickle and prick of beard hairs. A fascinating new sensation for his brain to catalogue.
And then there are warm lips pressed against his own.
The Force thrums between them, intermingling and sparking. Their bond pulls wide open like a gateway and Anakin feels it. Obi-Wan’s love and affection.
Unrestrained joy races through him so intensely it makes him slightly dizzy as he moans into the kiss and presses in harder. Obi-Wan matches him, running his tongue over Anakin’s lip, begging entrance.
Anakin allows it, opening his mouth and accepting the exploration of his Master’s tongue.
With the bond so short and open, Anakin cries out the truth over and over.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
He knows some of his more tangled and thorny emotions travel along with the words. His desperation and hunger. The lingering edges of his old resentment towards his Master from his days as a Padawan begging for affection from an aloof mentor.
But he doesn’t try to hide. And Obi-Wan doesn’t either. All of the Jedi Master’s complex and real and human feelings travel along the bond in response when he answers.
I love you, Anakin.
Anakin sobs into the kiss. He finally has what he’s wanted for so long he can’t remember not wanting it. But he also knows it’s not new either. It’s always been his.