Work Text:
Anakin Skywalker was covered in mud. And maybe about to get arrested.
Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. He’d taken the boy away from the front lines as the war raged on, hoping to get some much-needed rest for both of them, but Anakin, restless as ever, had kicked off his blankets sometimes north of midnight and gone out looking for—
Well. Trouble.
And now here he was, covered in mud, wrestling with not one, not two, but three Zabrak males who outsized him by quite a bit.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan called.
The boy had, of course, not made it more than halfway down the street they were staying on before he’d found trouble, so he’d woken Obi-Wan almost immediately with the sounds of the scuffle.
The wrestling match—for it did not seem much more serious than that—continued on unabated.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan repeated.
By the jolt that went through the boy’s body, he had heard him this time.
Obi-Wan marched forward, his cloak swishing around him, and he suppressed a smile as he grasped Anakin by the back of his tunic and hauled him to his feet.
The four of them came apart in a tangle of arms and legs and one wildly thrown punch.
“That’s enough,” Obi-Wan told them sternly. “What is the meaning of this?”
Anakin looked at him sheepishly, running a hand over his face in an attempt to remove some mud, which did nothing but smear it further. His hair stood straight up in some places, plastered by the dirt. “Master,” he said.
Ah, it was always Master when Anakin knew he was in trouble and thought there was some chance he’d be able to talk his way out of it.
Obi-Wan ran a hand over his beard, fighting another smile at the sight of his boy. “You have much to answer for, young one,” he said soberly. “Brawling in the middle of the night.”
The three he had been fighting also had the good grace to look abashed. “Sir,” one of them said tentatively. “We didn’t mean any harm.”
They looked young, Anakin’s age perhaps, young enough to have been as shaped by the unease in the galaxy as Obi-Wan’s boy was.
“What was all this about?” Obi-Wan asked sternly.
“Master, I was just—well, I was out walking, getting some fresh air,” Anakin began, drawing in a breath that signaled this would be a long-winded explanation. Most likely he would be using that extra time to think of excuses to placate Obi-Wan.
“We weren’t looking for a fight,” one of the Zabrak males said, folding his arms over his chest in a way that looked to Obi-Wan very much as if he was still in search of a fight.
“They were,” Anakin said. “Said something about my mother, and—”
“He said something about mine straight back,” another young man said.
“And then we fought,” another finished.
The four of them looked at each other, and then shrugged.
“I have half a mind to tan all of your hides for this unseemly behavior,” Obi-Wan said. “Anakin, go directly inside and wait for me in the entryway. We will deal with the muddy clothes first and then the misbehavior.”
Anakin flushed, and when one of the Zabraki smirked, Obi-Wan stepped between them before either could lunge.
“Enough,” Obi-Wan rebuked.
It took him a moment—it usually did—but eventually Anakin slouched back towards their lodging, shoulders set with annoyance. He was practically pouting.
But then, he usually was.
Obi-Wan faced the three Anakin had been wrestling with. “All three of you are far too old to be behaving in such a manner,” he said mildly. Padmé would have teased that he had no right to be scolding a bunch of youths he didn’t know, but all three young men looked rather ashamed of themselves. “If I see this sort of behavior again, I will not hesitate to step in.”
One of them reddened, but they all nodded. “We didn’t mean any harm,” one said, and Obi-Wan dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
When he entered their quarters, Anakin had his muddy arms folded over his chest and was glaring at Obi-Wan.
“I just—”
“Strip,” Obi-Wan told him calmly. “Pile your muddy clothes there, and then I will bathe you.”
“Obi-Wan,” Anakin protested. “I can bathe myself—”
“Little boys who misbehave do not get the privilege of being treated like big boys,” Obi-Wan told him sternly. “And they certainly do not get big boy responsibilities.”
Anakin blushed furiously, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like he was cursing Obi-Wan out.
“But since you wanted to get in big boy trouble,” Obi-Wan continued firmly. “You will get a long, hard spanking on your bare bottom. After that, you and I are both in need of some more sleep.”
There was a particularly heavy, long-handled wooden backed bath brush hanging in the bathroom that Obi-Wan thought would be appropriate in this instance.
Anakin pouted, but began to strip his clothing slowly.
Obi-Wan gave him about a minute of his nonsense before he shook his head, suppressing another slight smile. His boy looked adorable this way, naughty as he was, that little pout on his face.
“Ah, this won’t do,” he said. “Hands on your head, my little one.”
Anakin made a sound of protest in his throat, but he obeyed.
Obi-Wan stripped him of his clothes quickly, and then lifted him—despite Anakin’s renewed protests—and carried him into the refresher.
“You’ll get muddy,” Anakin said, pouting.
“Ah, I did indeed,” Obi-Wan said, stripping his own shirt off and running the water. “After this, Anakin, I will be spanking you with—”
“No,” Anakin said, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back against the back of the bathtub. “That’s between you, the Force, and my ass. I don’t want to know, Obi-Wan.”
This time, Obi-Wan didn’t contain his chuckle. “Very well, young one,” he said, running his fingers through Anakin’s hair with one hand.
Anakin moaned slightly, tipping his head back and letting out a long breath. “I am sorry,” he said softly a moment later, his eyes remaining shut. “I don’t know what got into me.”
“You are restless,” Obi-Wan said gently. “But you need rest all the same. Hush now. We will deal with all that in a moment.”
Anakin did hush as Obi-Wan ran the bath brush—the one he planned to spank Anakin with in a moment—gently across the boy’s muddy skin, cleaning him carefully.
When he had finished and rinsed them both off, he sent Anakin, still naked, to stand in the corner of the bathroom.
“You’re spanking me in the bathroom?” the boy asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Corner,” Obi-Wan repeated calmly, the bath brush still in his hand.
Realization hit Anakin’s face. “Kark,” he said. “That?”
“That,” Obi-Wan said.
Anakin groaned dramatically. “Obi-Wan,” he said. “You can’t use the same bath brush you just used to take care of me. That’s—that’s cheating.”
Obi-Wan chuckled. “Well, come here then,” he said. “And let us be on with this, little boy.”
Anakin walked to him slowly, lip jutting out.
Obi-Wan sat down on the small bench next to the bath and then turned Anakin across his knee without waiting for his usual song and dance. This spanking was inevitable; it was best to get on with it. He brought his hand down on Anakin’s bare bottom with a sharp swat.
Anakin jumped. “My ass is still wet,” he grumbled. “It hurts more.”
“Your bottom is still a bit damp,” Obi-Wan agreed conversationally, his hand falling over and over again and turning the skin first pink and then a darker red.
Anakin whimpered, his legs scissoring. “I didn’t mean it,” he said.
Obi-Wan landed several sharp swats onto Anakin’s sit spots where he knew they would get the point across. “You didn’t mean to leave our bed in the middle of the night?” he asked sternly. “You didn’t mean to trade insults and join a wrestling match?”
His hand was now falling firmly across the tops of Anakin’s thighs, making the boy squirm and whimper as his legs kicked helplessly.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “I just wanted to—to get some air.”
“Next time,” Obi-Wan said, lifting the bath brush. “You will think about this before you act impulsively.”
He brought the bath brush down with a sharp smack to Anakin’s right cheek, reddening the skin immediately. The skin was rapidly turning to a darker red, the bath brush clearly achieving its intended purpose.
This, Obi-Wan thought, was a tool he should invest in. Perhaps the owner of these quarters would allow him to buy it, or at the very least tell him where he could get his own.
“I’m sorry,” Anakin wailed. “I won’t do it again.”
“I should think not,” Obi-Wan said firmly, bringing the bath brush down on the boy’s upturned bottom rapidly now, tucking his leg over Anakin’s to keep the boy on his lap.
Anakin was crying now, reaching the catharsis he had clearly been looking for all evening, and Obi-Wan tipped him forward to finish the spanking with several hard swats to the tops of the boy’s thighs.
Then he pulled Anakin up and set him on his lap. The boy immediately tucked his head against Obi-Wan’s neck, sniffling a little as he caught his breath.
“I really won’t do it again,” Anakin promised.
Obi-Wan stroked his back gently. “I believe you will try your best, my boy,” he said. “And I certainly think you won’t like a repeat of this conversation.”
At this, Anakin raised his head. He still had tears on his lashes, but he had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes all the same. “Perhaps if the bath brush is mysteriously cut in half by a lightsaber—” he began.
Obi-Wan cut him off with a playful swat to his thigh. “There is always the belt,” he said, his own eyes twinkling teasingly as he looked down at his boy.
Anakin groaned again, but tucked his head in against Obi-Wan’s shoulder again and let out his breath.
And if Obi-Wan decided to keep him there until he fell asleep instead of putting him back in bed—
Well, that was between him and the Force too.