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It takes approximately twenty-three minutes on Coruscant for them to realize something’s wrong with Obi-Wan and that, probably, the silvery shimmering powder Ventress had blown over the Jedi Master wasn’t the dud they had thought it was.
And because his former master has the worst luck in the history of the galaxy, they figure it all out in front of the entire Council.
“Alright,” Master Windu says, clapping his hands as he settles into his chair. “Welcome back, Obi-Wan. I see you’ve brought Knight Skywalker along as well, as usual. Saves us from having to call for him later, I suppose.”
Anakin flushes from his customary position behind Obi-Wan’s Council chair and resists the urge to fidget. He knows it’s a bit weird that he almost always follows Obi-Wan into the Council Room when he isn’t actually on the Council at all, that Master Billaba doesn’t bring her padawan with her, that he isn’t even Obi-Wan’s padawan anymore anyway, and that other war generals aren’t hanging out around the edges of the room like he is.
But come on, he’s The Chosen One.
And also too long without Obi-Wan makes him feel bad. He likes having his master in his sights so that he knows he’s alright and comfortable and he doesn’t need anything.
Especially now that they’ve started...doing whatever it is they’re doing together. Fucking when they can, slipping into each other’s rooms late at night and staying until morning. Making breakfast for each other, Obi-Wan figuring out how to work the caf machine and Anakin figuring out how to best brew the tea Obi-Wan prefers. Things they could have learned any time over the past twelve years of living together, but now made...special. Important. Obi-Wan thanks him with a kiss when he brings him a mug, and when Anakin’s on the couch, he’ll slip into the space beside him and just rest his head on his shoulder.
It’s fucking. It’s casual. Anakin hasn’t suddenly become any more obsessed with Obi-Wan than he has always been. Really. It’s just fucking. It’s just because it feels good.
They spent the entire time travelling back from their battle with Ventress having life-affirming sex in the captain’s bunk, which was really quite nice.
The sex, not the bunk.
“This’ll probably be a long meeting,” Master Windu continues. “Is everyone comfortable?”
There are a few quiet murmurs of agreement that makes Anakin want to roll his eyes because that couldn’t be a clearer hypothetical question, but of course the Council has something to say when the situation doesn’t really call for it.
Obi-Wan stiffens for a second, a change only noticeable to Anakin because of how closely he usually observes his master, and then says suddenly, sounding quite normal, “Actually, this chair is the worst, most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever sat in. The Jedi Master who sat here before me must have had a spine of steel, or at least one made up completely of corresponding ridges, because the back of this monstrosity has managed to locate every one of my past injuries and sore muscles and somehow puts the most pressure possible on all of them. It forces me to sacrifice posture and sit like a--a--Anakin, dearest, what was the word you used the other day? Huttese? To describe the way I sit?”
Anakin, who has not yet learned how to deny his master anything but an orgasm, flushes bright red and mumbles, “Schutta.”
“Yes, that was it. A schutta. Or in Basic, a whore. It forces me to sacrifice posture and sit like a schutta just so that I can at least try to focus on any of the banal discussions we have. I would actually, probably, prefer to stand for seven hours rather than sit here, but I understand the honor it is to sit on the Jedi Council at all. That and I am half-afraid my padawan would try to take my seat, and my life has been dedicated to making sure Anakin does not suffer the ways I have, as is the duty of a master.”
The only Jedi whose mouth isn’t hanging open in shock, awe, bafflement, or disbelief is Plo Koon, who isn’t capable of it.
Master Windu blinks a few times and then looks from a startled-looking Obi-Wan up to Anakin. “What has happened to Master Kenobi, Skywalker?”
Anakin thinks it’s a mark of how far their relationship has progressed that Windu isn’t immediately asking him what he did to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan stiffens again and then says, “It’s Knight Skywalker, Mace. You granted the boy a knighthood at nineteen when I argued against it, the least you can do is remember his title. Oh Force, I don’t know why I said that.”
Windu opens his mouth to say something, but Anakin beats him to the punch, feeling strangely like Obi-Wan has just taken a lightsaber to his chest. “You argued against it?” He asks, stepping forward so he can peer down at his master properly. His master who has just very publicly admitted to not having any faith in him.
He’d thought--he’d thought….
“Of course I did,” Obi-Wan blinks up at him, confused and then slowly becoming more scared as his mouth keeps moving. “I know you think I never wanted you to be my padawan, dear one, but the truth is I didn’t want you to leave so quickly, especially when the war had just started. I was terrified you would be lost in a fight where I could not help you, and I would only hear about it days later. I’m sure my obvious attachment to you was one of the reasons the Council Knighted you so quickly. Attachment is dangerous during war. Look at Jabiim.”
Anakin stares at Obi-Wan for a few seconds and then looks over at Windu. “Something’s wrong with Obi-Wan.”
Windu, Force bless him, doesn’t say anything along the lines of well duh. Instead, he leans forward in his seat, looking concerned. “What--”
“Speak the truth, Obi-Wan does,” Yoda cackles, tapping his gimer stick on the ground a few times.
Internally, Anakin sighs and sits back for another lecture on attachment from the Jedi master. This’ll at least be the first time he’s had to listen with his former master’s come dripping out of him, which might make things a bit more interesting.
But Yoda doesn’t say what he expects him to. ““Hear a question, compelled to answer, he is.” He bangs his gimer stick against the ground again. “Young Obi-Wan, thinking about what, are you?"
Obi-Wan freezes again but says conversationally, “I’m thinking about how when I was a padawan, I used to have dreams of snapping that thing in half. When I was a Knight too, actually. Well. Still, sometimes."
Anakin chokes on his next inhale. Master Billaba hides her smile behind her hand. Master Fisto isn’t even trying.
“Obi-Wan,” Master Windu says slowly. “How are you feeling?”
“Alright. Content. Sore--” Anakin doesn’t blush at this. “Worried. Afraid. Confused. Hor--” He slaps a hand over his own mouth, but the damage has definitely been done.
Yoda cackles again and Fisto stops trying to hold back his laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Anakin defends his scarlet-faced master. "He was going to say horrified!" A quick peek at their bond shows that he was definitely going to say horny, but that should probably stay a secret between them alone.
“He didn’t say it hurt him,” Master Ti points out.
“Seen this before I have. Hit by a silver powder, was he not? Crushed root of the Veraatim plant. Harmless it is. Wear off it will on its own, given enough time.” Yoda says.
“Skywalker, how did you not notice something was wrong?” Master Windu asks, rubbing at his forehead.
“We didn’t do a lot of talking,” Obi-Wan says.
“We took turns sleeping!” Anakin yells before Obi-Wan can elaborate any further. “And we thought..that it just didn’t do anything. I didn’t get any on me, and Obi-Wan seemed alright at the time.”
“Of course you didn’t get anything on you,” Obi-Wan says, offended. “I didn’t put myself in between you and Ventress just so you could still get hurt! What sort of master would I be?”
Windu pinches at his nose, but Anakin can see the way the corners of his lips are fighting against the urge to pull upward. “You said it yourself, Obi-Wan. The boy is a Knight now. You’re no longer his master."
“I’m always going to be his master, Mace. Anyway, it was you who came to my quarters a fortnight ago because you couldn’t believe your padawan has a padawan and you still remembered teaching her her first katas.”
“Mace,” Master Billaba says, laughing fully now.
“I really think I should take Obi-Wan back to his quarters now,” Anakin interrupts. “Before he says any more secrets.”
“Secrets, you have, young Skywalker?” Yoda asks, sounding much more interested than Anakin thinks he should be.
Obi-Wan opens his mouth. Anakin really wishes everyone would just stop asking questions. Before Obi-Wan can detail what secrets Anakin definitely has, Anakin covers his mouth with both of his hands. He can feel Obi-Wan’s lips brush his palm as he’s compelled to answer Yoda’s question.
“I think we’ve all told Obi-Wan things we don’t necessarily want anyone else to know,” he defends himself, nodding down towards his master’s wide-eyed, guileless expression. “I mean, look at that face. I’d trust him with anything.”
He does trust him with everything, That’s why Obi-Wan’s lips are somehow still moving.
There are quite a few murmurs of agreement from the Jedi masters, and when Obi-Wan finishes divulging Anakin’s secrets into his hand, he lets go of his face to pull him up from the galaxy’s most uncomfortable seat, hoping against hope they’ll both get away with no more embarrassment.
“Well, we’ll continue the meeting without the pair of you,” Master Windu says magnanimously. “Obi-Wan, we’ll send you the summaries. I think it’s best if we remove you from active duty until this has worn off, in case you find yourself captured by the Separatists and asked politely to tell them our every battle plan.”
Obi-Wan nods, but keeps his mouth closed tightly in case he agrees and then is compelled to say anything more.
“And we’ll see about getting you a new chair,” Windu adds slyly, causing Obi-Wan to blush furiously scarlet.
“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” Master Fisto says as they walk across the chamber to the double doors. “We thought you noticed everything about your old master, Knight Skywalker.”
“Down to when he gets new robes,” Master Plo says
“Or when he parts his hair differently,” Master Billaba adds.
“Truly,” Ki-Adi-Mundi murmurs. Anakin thinks he can just detect a hint of a dangerous twinkle in his eye. “How did you not notice, Knight Skywalker?”
The Sith are right, the Jedi are evil. There is no other explanation.
“To be fair to Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, responding to the question even as he’s being shoved out the door, “I generally do not lie to him, except perhaps lies of omission. For example, I know he thinks I am satisfied with a casual relationship with him, but the truth is that I am in fact deeply in love with--”
The door shuts, but the damage is done. Anakin can hear raucous laughter from behind it. He almost wants to stick his head back inside just to tell them all that this is not behavior fitting for a room full of Jedi masters, but he also never wants to see the Jedi Council ever again.
“--him,” Obi-Wan finishes. He’s not red in anymore but a frightening shade of white as he stares at Anakin with huge eyes and a slightly open mouth.
Anakin stares back. Obi-Wan loves him. Obi-Wan is in love with him. The man he loves more than anything else in the entire galaxy loves him back.
Even though he really shouldn’t, Anakin can’t stop himself from leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Carefully, he unshields his side of their bond completely, knowing that he should make himself just as vulnerable as Obi-Wan is right now. There’s a locked box at the back of his mind, one where he’s stored all his love for his master over the years. It’s the easiest thing now to unlock it and send that love down the bond to his master. It’s his. It’s always been his.
Obi-Wan slumps into him and both of them go to deepen the kiss, Anakin pushing him back against the door much harder than he intended.
It makes a loud thumping sound and both of them freeze when they hear the murmur of voices in the Council room cut off.
Kark. Kark. They cannot be caught kissing right outside the Council, Obi-Wan would probably resign from the Order in sheer embarrassment and Anakin would have to go with him because they love each other and then they’d have to, like, be farmers or something. Anakin has the absurd mental image of the two of them using their lightsabers to cut down wheat stalks or skewer fish.
Obi-Wan gives him a strange look even as they turn in tandem and hurry down the corridor to their quarters. “Your mind fascinates me, Anakin,” he murmurs. He looks so recently kissed that it’s hard to take him seriously with lips that red, but then his words filter into Anakin’s brain and he gasps in offense.
“Oh? Do you really want to talk about what weird things we think about and don’t mean other people to ever see, Master I Just Told The Entire Council I’m In Love With My Padawan And Also Called Myself a Whore? Because we could!”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Obi-Wan answers automatically. “That’s actually very low on the list of things I want to talk about. I mostly want to talk about why you haven’t said that you love me back, but I suppose we should also talk about what to make for dinner and if Ahsoka is going to be eating with us or with Master Unduli and her padawan.”
Anakin blinks at him, inputting the code to open the door to their quarters completely by habit. “What do you mean why I haven’t said that I love you back? You felt it.”
Obi-Wan looks extremely frustrated, scarily angry even, but he answers. Right. He’s compelled to. Anakin had almost forgotten in light of the love confession.
“You say everything you want, all the time. You express yourself and your emotions with words to Ahsoka, your men, your friends. I always thought...whoever you loved....she...they would hear it every day.” Obi-Wan purses his lips for a second, as if that will stop the words from coming. If anyone were going to try and beat a truth compulsion through sheer force of will, of course it would be Obi-Wan.
It doesn’t work.
“It’s very hard for me to believe,” the words spring from his mouth, catapulted out against his greatest effort. “That you love me. I need...I want to hear it. I need to know if hearing it will make it feel more real.”
It is probably a mark of how close they are with each other that Obi-Wan doesn’t actually try to clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle this confession, even though he could. Anakin would respect it.
If Obi-Wan wants words, Anakin can give him words. He’d thought they were closer than words, connected by the bond and their lives, spending almost every second together. He’d thought that feelings, showing Obi-Wan how he felt would be enough. But if his master needs words from him, he can do that too.
He slowly approaches Obi-Wan as if approaching a scared and cornered animal. “I’ve been in love with you since I can remember,” he tells him softly, taking one of his master’s hands in his and stroking his knuckles. He ducks his head until Obi-Wan brings himself to look him in the eyes. “I have. I’ve always wanted to be around you, to be like you, to be someone you could like. When I was at my worst, I thought of you and it made me strong. I lost an arm for you on Geonosis, but I would have given my entire life for yours. I...Obi-Wan, it’s probably the most obvious thing about me, and I know I’m not the most subtle person in the galaxy. Do you understand?”
Obi-Wan tenses and his mouth opens automatically. He closes his eyes. “No,” the Veraatim plant forces him to say. “I don’t understand.” When he looks back up at Anakin, his eyes look distinctly wet. “I don’t understand why you could love me, Anakin. Look at you, you’re-- wonderful and strong and I am very proud of the man you’ve become, and me, I….” he trails off as if even the truth powder in his veins can’t make head nor tail of the mess of his emotions.
Anakin feels like crying himself and he presses closer to Obi-Wan. “Why do you think you are so unloveable, Master?” he murmurs, only realizing what he’s done when Obi-Wan’s eyes go wide with something he never usually lets Anakin see: fear.
“Because--” is all Obi-Wan manages to get out before Anakin’s mouth is descending down onto his. Some things Obi-Wan should be allowed to keep to himself. Obi-Wan’s lips move against his own and words are coming out, but Anakin isn’t listening. He takes advantage of his master’s open mouth to thrust his tongue inside, licking around his teeth and making it impossible for him to say anything else.
Obi-Wan, after a bit of flailing, gets with the program and latches onto Anakin, pulling him impossibly closer to him and slipping a leg between his feet. Grateful for the friction, Anakin rubs downward and lets out a moan, breaking away from Obi-Wan’s lips.
“--and then when I was twelve, I--” Obi-Wan says immediately and Anakin can’t quite hide the pained groan he makes when he realizes how long Obi-Wan’s list of reasons is. For a second, he considers leaving to give the man some privacy, but he doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan alone at all right now.
He kisses him again instead, pushing him back onto the couch and clambering on top of him to straddle his lap. Arms thrown around his neck, Anakin pours every ounce of love he has for this man into this kiss and through their bond.
Every memory of him seeing Obi-Wan and feeling hopelessly besotted flies from his mind into Obi-Wan’s. The first time they’d fucked, how Anakin had had to bite his forearm so as to not scream out how deeply in love with his master he was. How when Obi-Wan had complained later of being too sore to sit, Anakin had felt smug pride and galaxy-ending love well up in his chest, forcing words past his throat he had never meant to say: next time you can go at me if you want.
And how Obi-Wan had accepted immediately, not commenting even once on the way Anakin had sounded so sure that there would be a next time.
Time seems to lose all meaning as they kiss, breaking for breath but content to just explore each other's mouths as Obi-Wan's keeps running through his insecurities and Anakin tries his best to show him how loved he is.
Obi-Wan moans long and loud when Anakin’s hands find their way to the front of his pants. The fabric is thin and Anakin can feel the prominent hardness beneath it. I love your cock too, Master, he thinks across their bond. Almost as much as I love the way you look when you take mine up your--
There’s a commotion at the door, the door Anakin had forgotten to lock during their conversation, and Quinlan Vos bursts in. “I came as soon as I heard! Obi-Wan Kenobi under a truth spell!” he shouts before focusing on the pair of them on the couch. Anakin pulls his mouth away from Obi-Wan’s slowly, as if that will make anything better at all. At least Obi-Wan apparently seems to be finished talking.
“Well, well, well,” Vos’ whole demeanor changes instantaneously. “I suppose that’s one less question I need to ask.”
“Quinlan,” Obi-Wan warns as both of them scramble to stand up straight. Anakin busies himself with fixing his robes and decidedly not making eye contact with anyone in the room. “This isn’t the best time.”
“Oh come on,” Quinlan smirks, sitting at their table and crossing his ankles. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you,” Obi-Wan bites out. “I just think--”
“Get out,” Anakin demands, crossing his arms. Vos isn’t his friend, he doesn’t have to be polite.
“But he said he was happy to see me,” Quinlan grins at Anakin and waggles his eyebrows. “Are you jealous?”
“He has no reason to be,” Obi-Wan answers immediately. “But. Yes, probably. Knowing him.”
Anakin swivels his head to look at him, offended. His master shrugs guiltily. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know I don’t mean to.”
“Now, there are just a few questions I have, then I’ll be on my way,” Quinlan promises. “Just some things that have been bugging me for, say, decades.”
If possible, Obi-Wan looks even more pained. Anakin is surprised he isn’t running. Anakin would run.
“Who broke my holorecorder when we were kids, Obi-Wan?” Obi-Wan opens his mouth to reply, but Quinlan holds up a hand. “And why did you lie and say it was Bant?”
Anakin watches a deep blush spread across his master’s cheeks. “I broke your kriffing holorecorder, Quinlan,” he mutters. “I panicked and lied because I knew you liked Bant more than me and I was afraid you’d stop talking to me and I'd be alone.”
Quinlan gets halfway through punching the air in a display of very unJedi-like emotion before he freezes and looks at Obi-Wan quizzically. “Wait, that’s...that’s actually quite sad.”
Obi-Wan crosses his arms and shrugs. On anyone else, Anakin wouldn’t hesitate to call that expression a pout, but this is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, who most certainly does not pout.
“Were you stealing my drinks when we went out to celebrate my Knighting ceremony?” Quinlan rolls into the next question quickly.
“No,” Obi-Wan answers immediately. “I was asking the bartender to give you the nonalcoholic look-alike drinks they keep for underage customers.”
Quinlan stands with an affronted gasp. “Obi-Wan!” He sounds deeply betrayed. Obi-Wan looks completely unmoved. Anakin glances between them unsure if he should interfere. “Why would you do that?”
“You were already quite drunk and I didn’t fancy having to carry you back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan admits. “I figured I could have given you blue milk and you wouldn’t have noticed the difference.”
“You owe me a wild night out!” Quinlan accuses, poking at Obi-Wan in the air. “And I’m going to get drunk and I’m going to vomit on you and you’re going to have to carry me back to the Temple. Obi-Wan Kenobi, how dare you!”
Obi-Wan looks a little chagrined, but still mostly stoic. “You wanted to know the truth,” he points out.
“I didn’t realize the deceptions would cut so deeply!” Quinlan throws his hands up and then catches sight of Anakin again. “How long have you been in love with your padawan?” he asks slyly.
Obi-Wan flinches and clenches his jaw tightly. Anakin desperately wants to know the answer, but he suddenly doesn’t want to know it unless Obi-Wan voluntarily tells him. Working purely on instinct, he darts forward.
“Since he was--” is all Obi-Wan gets out before Anakin’s mouth covers his again. The tried and true method.
“That’s cheating,” Vos complains, but Anakin keeps kissing Obi-Wan. The Council knows about them, Vos knows about them...soon enough the whole Temple will know about them. Why would he ever stop kissing Obi-Wan?
Especially when Obi-Wan starts kissing him back as if one of his friends isn’t standing right there in front of them.
“Fine,” Quinlan Vos yelps when one of them lets out a moan. “Fine, yes, you win, I’m going. But Obi-Wan, I’m serious, you owe me a night out, and you have my word I’ll get it.”
With that parting threat, the doors open and slide shut. Obi-Wan and Anakin break apart as soon as they’re alone, but they don’t go very far away
Force. A nervous, slightly insane-sounding giggle escapes from his lips as he thunks his head against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Is there--” any other revelations you want to tell anyone else today? He almost asks, but stops himself just in time.
Obi-Wan groans and lets out his own laugh. “Let’s find something I can do that doesn’t involve either one of us talking, shall we, dearest?”
Anakin perks up at this and smirks at Obi-Wan, already pulling out of his arms so he can grab his hand. “Oh, I have some ideas,” he promises with a grin, interlacing their fingers and tugging his master, the great love of his life, down the hall towards their bedroom.