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with a kiss

Summary:

Anakin Skywalker and the people who love him.

[or: a very self-indulgent fic about Anakin getting the kisses he deserves]

Notes:

i headcanon anakin and aayla as childhood best friends so this is happening in this fic

Work Text:

i.

Anakin slumps against one of the huge trees that surround them on the battlefield. He’s pretty sure he has a few broken ribs and he also hasn’t slept in two―no three―rotations, which is why he’s surprised he survived their latest battle in the first place. His head pounds with the phantom battle shots still ringing in his ears. For a short moment, he allows himself to squeeze his eyes shut. The battle is won. For now, they can rest. ‘For now’ meaning after he checked up on the men, finished the casualties reports because even though Rex insists on doing them he doesn’t like it when Rex does them because it will only hurt him, checking up on Ahsoka too and reporting back to the Council, then he’ll be able to rest. 

“Sir,” someone says, and the voice only reaches his ears faintly, like it’s coming from really far away, “Sir, are you alright?”

Anakin opens his eyes and pushes his body away from the tree and successfully manages to only sway for a singular moment, finding himself face to face with Aayla’s Commander Bly. 

“I’m fine, Commander,” he mutters, waving a hand around in the free space between them, “what is the status report?”

“The gunships are landing now to get you back to the ships. We will take over from here, sir.”

“Thank you, Commander.”
Anakin nods at him and then takes a tentative step forward to test out whether he’s going to collapse or not. He doesn’t, so he counts that as a win. His vision only swims before his eyes but other than that he’s fine. 

Commander Bly walks suspiciously close to him when they make their way towards the middle of the battlefield but Anakin pretends he doesn’t notice. He knows the Commander means well and Aayla only ever has praise to offer for Commander Bly. 

Rex, Ahsoka and Aayla stand by one of the gunships that still hasn’t taken off, ushering the rest of the men of the 501st into the other gunships. 

“Master,” Ahsoka calls, “are you alright?”

“Yes, everything's fine, Ahsoka.” Anakin nods at her and then steps over to Rex, maybe a little closer than usual. “Are we ready to leave?”

“Yessir,” Rex snaps, “everything is cleared.”

With that Rex and Ahsoka step onboard the last gunship that’s still on the ground and Commander Bly takes off again, getting back to instructing the 327th on cleaning up the mess of the battlefield. 

Anakin remains with Aayla. 

“You’ll clean up here and I’ll take care of the rest back up there?”

Aayla eyes him warily. 

“I will talk to the Council,” she says, “you look dead on your feet.”

Anakin opens his mouth to protest but Aayla interrupts him by holding up a hand.

“It’s okay, I will talk to them, Anakin."

“But―”

“I mean it. Get some rest.”

“They will―”


“They will understand,” Aayla says. “Now get some rest.”

“Fine.”

Aayla who comprehends easily enough that he is borderline sulking takes one step forward and puts both of her hands at either side of his hand. She gets on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his nose. There’s a small smile tugging at his lips. 

Aayla started giving him kisses on the nose when he first grew taller than her when they still were Padawans and this is as far as she could get. After that, it just kind of stuck. 

She was also the only one allowed to do it anyway. The other Padawans used to give them weird looks from time to time but Anakin always had been a stranger to them, only pushed together with Aayla because Quinlan Vos and Obi-Wan were lifelong friends and when they both needed a break they threw Aayla and him together with Master Fisto and they became inseparable enough after that. 

Aayla withdraws and sinks back to her feet, returning his smile. 

“Best get going now, Skywalker,” Aayla teases, “that’s more sleep you’re going to get before paperwork will catch up to you.”

“Of course, I’ll be on my way, Secura,” Anakin teases right back, the vision before his eyes still a little blurry. He slightly bows to her before joining Rex and Ahsoka on the gunship. 

Ahsoka gives him a funny look upon stepping next to them. 

“Not a word, Snips,” Anakin says sternly, “we did that as kids.”

Ahsoka only grins at him and gently nudges Rex in the rips. 

“Bet Master Obi-Wan still has some holos.”

 

ii.

Anakin sits in his bunk in his quarters on board the Resolute with his head in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to drown out all the noise from the battlefield which is still running free in his head like a wild animal; ready to tear him apart from the inside any moment now. 

"General?"

There’s a knock on the door, but he doesn’t feel like answering right now. He already talked to Ahsoka (and to Obi-Wan too, who released him from the burden of having to go over their latest mission in front of the Council again) and now he feels like just being silent for a day. It’s not what anyone expects from him―Anakin Skywalker being quiet for once―but he gets like that sometimes. Today is sometimes. 

“General, are you alright?”

Anakin can hear the worry in his Captain’s words and there’s an immediate pang of guilt in his chest; threading it together with invisible strings. For a moment he tears his head away from his hands to look towards the door. Another knock. He visibly can’t bring himself to answer. 

“Alright, that’s it, sir. I’m coming in.”

Anakin listens as Rex punches the passcode into the datapad outside the door, absent-mindedly wondering where Rex even got it from in the first place. Kriffing Obi-Wan probably told Rex and his Padawan as if Obi-Wan wouldn’t burn him alive if Anakin ever told someone else about Obi-Wan’s passcode.

The door slides open ever so swiftly and Anakin buries his head in his hands again, unable to look at Rex. He’s still in his dirty robes that have been scorched by blaster bolts that only barely missed him. Rex’s force signature shines in gentle concern and some dull sense of loss that always takes over Rex’s signature after battles―no matter if lost or won―and perfectly mirrors his own Anakin images. Of course, it will never be the same. These men are Rex’s brothers. Anakin can’t imagine losing Obi-Wan or Ahsoka over and over again and still, he keeps on losing Rex’s brothers. They are his responsibility and he keeps losing them. 

“Sir,” Rex says, “Kix says he still hasn’t seen you in medbay. You’re the only one he hasn’t seen there yet.”

Through his fingers Anakin can see Rex’s shadow, indicating that he’s moving through the room.

“General.” His Captain speaks again, voice a little softer, a little quieter as it is always when he’s away from the battlefield. 

Rex squats down before him, almost between his legs and Anakin forces himself to lift his head from his hands again. He must look miserable enough for Rex to immediately notice that something is up and because his Captain is smart he knows exactly what this is concerned with. 

"It wasn't your fault, General," Rex says quietly. "You couldn't have known."

"But I should have," he protests and he winces at how his voice cracks a little, "the way they diverted their troops did suggest that they-"

"General," Rex firmly interrupts. "It wasn’t your fault, sir."

Anakin squeezes his eyes shut. 

“It wasn’t,” his Captain repeats, “your fault.”

Anakin’s hands are trembling when Rex takes the left one in his own hands and draws it away from Anakin. He eyes the bloodied knuckles. They're red and angry just like Anakin feels all the time. 

"You need to take better care of them, sir," Rex says quietly. And funny, his mother used to say that as well. "They keep us safe; you know."

“We lost so many―” Anakin shuts his mouth when Rex interrupts him. 

“They still keep us safe. Whether you believe me or not, sir.”

Rex angles his hand until Anakin's palm is facing towards him. 

Anakin watches in silence as Rex presses a kiss to his open palm and lets it linger for a moment before he brings Anakin’s against his cheek. The trembling stops, Anakin dully notices, staring dumbfounded at his hand against Rex’s cheek. 

"There, sir,” Rex whispers, “You’re okay.” 

“Rex―”

“We’re safe.” Rex stares at him from his huge brown eyes and Anakin feels some of the strings around his chest unwind. “And you’re okay.”

Anakin closes his eyes and breathes in as Rex gently wraps one of his hands around Anakin’s wrist.

“You should rest, sir,” Rex whispers, gently prying Anakin’s hand away only so much that he can press another quick kiss against Anakin’s palm. “Would you listen if I tell you that that’s an order?”

“Only today, Captain,” Anakin mutters. 

 

iii.

Anakin gets Ahsoka and him to CoCo Town in record time after Ahsoka asked him to go. She deserves it and Anakin would never pass up on a chance to get her to smile. They step into Dex’s Diner with the Besalisk owner greeting them the second the doors close behind them. 

“Ani,” he shouts, his fours arms already raised in a hug, “good seeing ya again.”

“Dex, it’s been a―” He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before Dex wraps him up in a hug and lifts him off the ground. His four arms squeeze around Anakin’s ribcage uncomfortably tight. 

“―while,” Anakin wheezes out the rest of the sentence. 

Ahsoka gets away with a bright grin shot in her direction and he can feel some quiet relief in the Force. Dex could probably squish her. 

“Sit, sit, sit,” Dex commands, ushering them towards one of the corner booths. “What can I get ya?”

“Shadwa club sandwich,” Anakin answers. The sandwich is enormous but he hasn’t eaten anything all day so he figures he can order that one. 

Ahsoka puts her chin down in her hands and drums her fingers against her cheeks. She eyes the menu in front of her. Still looking down at it she raises her index finger. 

“Can I get those meat sticks from Corellia?” Ahsoka asks. “Master Kenobi says they’re really good.”
His Padawan looks up at Dex. “Can you make them raw, though?”

Sometimes Anakin forgets that Ahsoka eats her meat raw, while Dex just nods. He’s probably had weirder orders. 

“Comin’ right up.”

Ahsoka enmeshes him into some talk about how some Padawans think that climbing to the top of the towers of the Temple is impossible while Ahsoka finds herself vehemently disagreeing with that statement. 

“You can climb anything if you really try,” Ahsoka says, with Anakin nodding along, “Master Kenobi took me climbing once when you were on a mission escorting Senator Amidala.”

Anakin is fine with just listening to her talk about the most trivial things that pop up in her mind while they’re waiting for their food. 

(And she sure has a lot of them. Two weeks in the Temple will do that, Anakin assumes. She deserved them.) 

Their food arrives not that many minutes later and in all that time Ahsoka has jumped three subjects and is now talking about swimming competitions of the Padawans should be divided by amphibian species and non-amphibian species. 

“See,” Ahsoka says, as Dex brings their food over, “Knox only has more wins because of that kriffing swimming competition because obviously, he’s going to be a better swimmer than me.”

His Padawan eyes the sandwich in front of him.

“You gonna eat all that, Master?” she asks, raising one of her markings.

“Yes,” Anakin says slowly, “you’re not getting parts of my sandwich. Eat your raw meat.” 

Ahsoka rolls his eyes at him.

Both of them are fast eaters, something Obi-Wan would normally chide them for, which is why Dex rejoins their table only a few minutes later. 

“Can I get ya anything else?” Dex asks, resting his four arms on his stomach. 

Ahsoka opens her mouth but for the first time since the last hour between getting to the diner, waiting for their food and getting eating said food Anakin beats Ahsoka to talking. 

“We would love to, Dex,” he says, “however… we have some meditations to catch up on.”

“Do we have to?” 

Ahsoka sighs and does something that comes dangerously close to a pout in Anakin’s humble opinion and he’s tempted to give in there and then. However, he’s learned some things from Obi-Wan and therefore he remains resolute. 

“Yes,” Anakin answers, “we have to. Obi-Wan will just lecture me otherwise.”

“Where’s he anyway?” Dex chimes into the conversation.

“Outer Rim but―”

“Master Obi-Wan should be back on Coruscant by now though,” Ahsoka pipes up, “we should bring something back for him.”

Anakin nods in agreement, while Dex starts putting down another order, knowing what Obi-Wan likes to eat after many years of him coming here. 

“And while we’re at it,” Ahsoka chirps, “I want another one of those meat sticks, raw again, three doughnuts and,” Ahsoka drums her fingers against her chin, “oh do you have those crabs from Glee Anselm? Master Fisto said they’re really good and that I should try them. Obviously with shells.” 

Another pause and Ahsoka looks from Dex to him again.

“If that’s alright with you, of course, Master.”

Anakin never pays, it’s always Obi-Wan paying and Anakin remembers never asking like that. Another few years and Ahsoka won’t ask anymore either, he assumes. 

Anakin just waves her off with a grin and Dex takes her order. Ahsoka beams and Anakin feels soft for her all over again. Whenever her eyes light up like that Anakin can forget that they aren’t fighting a galactic war and Ahsoka’s childhood is being stolen away. He startles for a second when Ahsoka leans in and plants a kiss right onto his cheek. The Force hums with affection; their bond warm and strong as ever. 

“Thank you, Master.”

Dex grins at them brightly and Anakin supposes he can lecture Ahsoka on it later.

(Or never. Never perhaps sounds good as well.)

 

iv.

Anakin finds that it is easiest to pretend that there's no war tearing the galaxy apart when he's with Padmé. 

"Ahsoka won't miss you?" Padmé asks thus drawing him out of his thoughts while simultaneously reaching for one of his hands to start dragging him out of the kitchen. Anakin shakes his head.

"She's on a mission with Master Plo," he says, "she's coming back tomorrow though and…"

Padmé squeezes his hand. 

"Obi-Wan will be fine. You said it yourself, he survived worse."

"Yes, you're right," Anakin mutters, letting himself be tugged along by Padmé towards the bedroom. 

Vokara Che basically threw him out of the Halls of Healing because "Skywalker, go back to your quarters. He is in a bacta tank there's not much you can do." Obi-Wan has two days left before they're going to transfer him out of it and Anakin can spend every free minute of his sitting at Obi-Wan's bed. 

For now, it's Padmé guiding him into their bedroom because Anakin is tired and she knows this. Their last mission has been a long few weeks and resulted in Obi-Wan almost getting blown up. Technically, he got blown up, just not to death and it left Anakin, rather undignified, crying on the abandoned battlefield with his Captain being the only one allowed to stay at his side. 

Padmé turns on the lights in their bedroom, however just barely so that they can see where they’re stepping but nothing more than that. She gently grips both of his arms with her hands and makes him remain standing just a few inches away from their bed. 

“How was your day?” Anakin asks because somehow he’s been home for hours now and he still hasn’t asked―however they spent most of these hours in silence, comfortable silence but silence nonetheless. 

“Busy,” Padmé whispers, voice gentle and light, “you know how the Senate is―”

“Draining of all energy left in your body?” Anakin finishes her sentence and Padmé gives him a look. 

“I was going to say complicated.”

“Guess that works too, from a certain point of view,” he rasps out. Padmé only smiles at him and starts undoing the first layer of his robes. There’s nothing sensual about it in comparison to Padmé undressing him on other occasions, both of them know it’s not going to be a night like this. The only thing Padmé gently places aside is his lightsaber while she just drops his many layers of clothing to the ground. Normally she likes to complain about the many layers he wears and it turns into teasing while trying to not get caught in any of them but again―it’s not one of those nights.

“You sound like Obi-Wan,” Padmé mutters, “whenever he visits the Senate building.”

“Had to have some influence on me,” he weakly responds because thinking about Obi-Wan still makes his heart ache. Padmé hums and gets rid of another layer of clothing, finally exposing all of his upper body and his mechanic arm too. He rarely goes without the clove but having it off is always a welcome thing. 

Anakin sits down at the edge of the bed to peel off his boots on his own while Padmé gets rid of her senatorial gown, changing into one of her nightdresses. The scars on her back are faintly illuminated by the moonlight shining through the half-closed blinds. 

By the time Padmé crawls into bed, Anakin is already under the covers with only his underwear still on, hidden away by the soft blanket. He leans against the headboard of the bed when Padmé curls up next to him. 

“Obi-Wan will be fine,” she repeats quietly, wrapping her arms around his bare shoulders. Padmé presses a kiss against his shoulder and lets it linger for a moment. Anakin wraps his hands around one of her arms to keep them in place, letting his head fall onto hers. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you too.” 

Padmé kisses his shoulder again and hugs her arms around him a little tighter. Once she relaxes her arms around him, Anakin sinks further into her embrace until he’s pressed against her stomach with his head and can feel the gentle rise and fall of her taking breaths. Anakin wants to stay like this forever. 

Anakin feels Padmé lean down again and press another kiss against his shoulder, taking the weight off of them entirely. 

“Sleep Ani,” she whispers against his skin and so he does.

 

v.

Anakin’s head rings and he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness. The alarm keeps on blaring through the ship and it makes everything hurt. The wall behind him makes a small thud when Anakin lets the back of his head fall back against it against his better judgment because that just sends another bolt of pain coursing through his head. Every breath that he takes hurts hurts hurts. Broken ribs that go untreated are nasty and Anakin has a few too many of them. 

He knows, Obi-Wan and he sometimes joke about his speciality being getting caught and crashing ships but he’s hardly in the mood to laugh about that right now. Instead, he feels like curling up in a ball and crying. He didn’t plan on getting caught but there’s hardly ever anything that goes after plan these days. 

At least the alarm that has been butchering his head for several minutes now indicates that the Republic got here. Force, Anakin prays it’s Obi-Wan or anyone else he won’t be mortified about crying in front of them. But he wants it to be Obi-Wan because he knows Obi-Wan will be the only one he will feel safe with now. 

(Master Luminara and Master Fisto also had their fair shares of seeing him cry after having to put up with him as a ten year old but still―)

The alarm keeps blaring on Anakin just wants his lightsaber back to jam it into the red angry alarm that just won’t go quiet. That won’t let him slip away into oblivion. Anakin brings up his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them and buries his head in his knees. It goes on like that for a while before he can hear the swift motion of the door to his cell opening. After having his sleeping cycle destroyed by being holed up in here for five, no six, maybe seven, days with the lights being switched on and off every few hours, he barely gets his eyes open to look up and see who’s entering his cell. 

“Anakin.”

And Anakin might not be able to see but he can still hear, even over the alarm that’s still going on―when will it finally stop―and he’d recognise Obi-Wan's voice anywhere. 

“Obi-Wan,” he chokes out, forcing his eyes fully open. He sees Obi-Wan standing in the doorway with his lightsaber ignited, the blue light flashing before he deactivates it and stumbles further into the cell and to where Anakin is currently curled up. He feels light like he’s going to slip into oblivion again any second now.

His bond with Obi-Wan finally flooding open again is the only thing keeping Anakin in the here and now. He’s been too weak to reach for Obi-Wan in the Force but now that he’s close Anakin can finally feel the warmth and comfort of their bond again; Obi-Wan’s light Force signature swirling around him; keeping him safe and steady. 

"―kin. Anakin," someone, Obi-Wan, says his name, "it's okay. I have you."

Obi-Wan drops down to his knees before him and Anakin barely manages to fall forward the remaining meter that separates them, curling his hands into Obi-Wan's robes, as his life depends on it. It just might because Obi-Wan will have to get both of them off this ship that now has started shaking in its entirety. If Obi-Wan made his way onto this ship it’s probably breaking apart by now even though he claims he’s more sensible than Anakin in those things.

"It's okay. You're okay now," Obi-Wan soothes, "I have you, Padawan."

And he doesn’t even have the strength to protest at the use of the word ‘Padawan’ because despite all his complaining Anakin takes comfort in this word like no other and Obi-Wan calling him that feels like a declaration of love on its own. 

“Everything hurts.” His voice comes out in a rasp from not speaking for the past week, it feels like being on Tatooine and without water for a few hours all over again. He presses himself closer to Obi-Wan if that’s even possible at this point, soaking up the familiar warmth of his former Master. 

His throat closes up and Anakin squeezes his eyes shut. Everything hurts, from his limbs to his head to his eyes. He buries his head in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and waits for the sobs to come. They do come―they make his body shake so violently until he’s no longer sure if it’s the ship that’s currently breaking apart or his own body. Obi-Wan puts a hand on the back of Anakin’s head and wraps his other arm around Anakin’s waist to keep him from slumping into himself completely.

“You’re okay, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers against his temple before pressing a kiss there. “I’m getting you out of here, okay.”

Anakin feels himself nodding; his head still hidden away in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan strokes his hand over Anakin’s head, where his curls are all sweaty and dirty. Anakin doesn’t get out any more words just something that comes dangerously close to a whimper when Obi-Wan kisses his temple again. 

“I have you, Padawan,” Obi-Wan repeats quietly before slightly moving Anakin’s head so he can take Anakin’s face into his hands and wipe the tears away. “Let’s get you out of here, dear one.”

“Okay, Master,” Anakin whispers. 

After that he just lets Obi-Wan tilt his head forward so that Obi-Wan can press another kiss to the crown of his head. 

"I have you."

Obi-Wan lingers and Anakin takes his comfort in that.