Chapter Text
Obi-Wan stared down at the mess of papers strewn about his desk, electric light humming away next to him, tea long drunk and dinner neglected, cooling as it sat congealing next to his finished piles of marked papers. Blinking away the spots in his eyes he sat back in his chair and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of his nose as exhaustion finally crept into him - stripping away what little resolve he had left to finish his grading and go to bed.
He had no idea when his work had changed from passion to a chore - when entering the classroom had become a task he took on with relish to one he dreaded. He could see it in the eyes of his students, deadened and glassy as they listened to his lecture, one he'd prepared years ago when he still felt inspired; still felt like it was all worth it. Years ago it had taken him months in the semester to reach the stage of exhaustion he was currently feeling, eyes red-rimmed and unfocused, hand cramping from hours’ worth of grading, throat dry from lack of use. Now it was only a few weeks before it crept in.
Apathy.
He glanced at the leftover pile of papers - seven in total - before checking his phone. It was late but he knew she'd still be awake.
"Obi-Wan?" Satine's voice broke through after two rings, voice slightly muffled.
A spike of regret shot through him. "Did I wake you?"
"No, I'd just lay down for the evening. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
A pause before, "You don't sound fine."
Perhaps this had been a mistake. Satine had always been awfully good at stripping away Obi-Wan's defenses, pulling back the curtain until he was left very bare and exposed in front of her. The fact that she could tell just through a few words over the phone gave Obi-Wan pause, however. Was it that obvious?
"How could you tell?" he asked, deciding to give up all pretenses. It was, after all, why he'd called.
"You just sound tired," she said. There was some rustling over the line before her voice became more clear. "The new semester not going as planned?"
"It's going fine." He fiddled with his pen, trying to twirl it between his fingers. Instead he sent it skittering across the desk. He'd never been very good at it.
"Just fine?"
Obi-Wan shrugged then realized she couldn't see it. "The students are fine and I've got a good lineup of lessons for them. No early classes, my TA's are doing wonderfully, the essays I'm grading right now aren't all the same regurgitated tripe I'm accustomed to, but..."
"But you're exhausted."
"I'm exhausted," he conceded.
"When was the last time you took a break, Obi-Wan?"
When was the last time? He'd taught more lessons last semester than normal, offering to fill in for Plo Koon who had an unexpected loss in the family that needed attending to, and his winter holidays were spent attending to his frazzled graduate students who had been unnecessarily neglected during the fall semester. It had all accumulated in him just not taking any time off, despite his attempts at spending at least one week away from his desk wherein he read nothing, spoke to no one, and committed to absolutely no schedule at all.
"Winter of last year during Life Day," Obi-Wan settled on. He remembered spending two days in a fugue state brought on by too much good food and eggnog.
"Well no wonder you sound horrible. You must look it, too."
"Why thank you."
"You called for the truth, Obi-Wan, did you not?"
"Yes but you could be more polite about it."
"You'll survive."
He smiled slightly, comforted by her manner despite her words. Leaning forward he felt his shoulders pop, fascia and bones cracking under the subtle manipulation. He felt as tired as he apparently looked.
"I just need to stop feeling sorry for myself and get on with it," Obi-Wan said after a time.
He could practically hear Satine's eyes roll over the line. "No, what you need is some time off. Real time off where you can do whatever you want and not be bothered with the politicking of academia."
"Unfortunately it's not that simple," Obi-Wan said with a sigh. "I can't just abandon my students in the middle of the semester."
"But isn't your reading week coming up?"
"Yes, but--"
"And don't you have graduate students who can take over your office hours for the week?"
"Yes, but--"
"Then you should take advantage of the support network the university offers you," she said, voice stern. Obi-Wan felt like he was being scolded and wanted to retort with something but found he lacked anything substantial. It was difficult when what she was saying made a sort of kind of sense, especially when she was saying exactly what he'd wanted to hear but had been too stubborn to admit to.
"Perhaps you're right," he said, rubbing his eyes again. He was fairly certain eyeballs weren't supposed to hurt as much as his did. Maybe he should get them checked out...
"You're only doing your students a disservice," Satine added.
"I'm not sure what I'd do on my time off, though," he said, aware that he was already making excuses but unable to stop. There was always an immense wave of guilt that came with admitting he needed to do something for himself. He'd taken on a duty as a professor - a commitment to his students that he'd be there for them whenever they needed his guidance and knowledge. To just leave them to the wolves - or his graduate students, as the case may be - left him feeling terribly selfish.
"Stay at home and do absolutely nothing, or book yourself a little cabin in the woods to stay at for a few days. Rent a houseboat and make yourself sick with the motion of the water. Just do something, Obi-Wan, else you're going to run yourself ragged. And I don't fancy having even more of these late-night conversations wherein I suggest sensible things and you pretend you can't hear anymore. It gets tiresome."
So she had been asleep.
"A cabin, you say?" He perked up at that suggestion, the thought of spending time away from the high towers and concrete walls of Coruscant appealing.
He'd spent his summers as a child camping with Qui-Gon, the two hiking up to a remote site deep in the mountains. They'd camp out for weeks, fishing and hiking, Qui-Gon teaching Obi-Wan everything there was to learn about plants and wildlife, such as which mushrooms were safe to eat and how to defend against all manner of wildlife attacks. Obi-Wan cherished those memories when he was a young man, retreating into them whenever he felt like things had become a little too much.
But he'd strayed from those memories over the years, new ones taking up their space as he aged and his life became more complicated. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been out to the mountains; wasn't even sure the campsite he'd visited for a large portion of his youth still existed. But there was a sudden longing to go and see if it did - an urge to relive the simplicity of those moments from his youth.
"--or you could simply not do any of those things and bugger off to Canto Bight for a weekend. Spend all your cash on whatever you think is best."
"I think you're onto something there," Obi-Wan mumbled, Satine's voice having finally stopped.
"You mean about Canto Bight? I was joking, you know that, right?"
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "No, not Canto. The cabin part. Only I'd go camping."
"Oh! Splendid."
"You sound less than enthused..."
"No, I think it's a good idea. It's just..."
"Just?"
"Do you even know how to set up a tent?"
Obi-Wan paused. They'd been broken up for a few years now but every once in a while he caught himself, unable to decide if she was flirting with him or being perfectly innocent in her choice of phrasing. Regardless...
"You've seen my tents before, darling."
Silence.
"Satine?"
A sigh followed by Satine's voice, curt and clipped came through the line. "I'm going to bed now."
And then she hung up.
Obi-Wan sent her an apology text before going back to the last of his papers, new found enthusiasm keeping him going as he thought about what to pack for his upcoming trip, and how expensive a new fly fishing rod would set him back.
XXX
Day 1
The drive to the site was just how Obi-Wan remembered it. A two lane roadway that twisted and turned along the mountainsides, surrounded by dense forests with tall lodgepole pine trees towering up above, protecting the dense underbrush of ferns and random shrubbery. Small streams and large rivers made from glacial runoff, bright blue and clean, ground out pathways through the slate coloured mountains, bringing life and energy to the tranquility of the forest.
All manner of creature made its home in the area, squirrels and chipmunk, mountain sheep and elk, bears both black and brown, and the solitary and rarely seen cougar. Obi-Wan was prepared for any sort of encounter, bear spray shoved firmly in the side of his pack, bells and an emergency whistle strapped to his persons. If there was a bear in the area they'd know he was there, too. Or so Obi-Wan hoped.
The campsite was inaccessible by road, a small hiking trail the only means forward once you passed a certain point. Obi-Wan parked a short distance away from a modified van, the back covered in stickers from a variety of national parks and small towns. Obi-Wan paused to inspect, noting the license plate was from Tatooine. A long way from home, it seemed.
Taking a moment Obi-Wan stood beneath the pines, breathing in the scent of pine needles as they sat beneath the heat of the mid-day sun, toasting under the gentle rays that broke through the canopy above. The wind gently swirled along the tops of the trees, calming Obi-Wan, the sound of it like nothing heard in Coruscant. It sounded like mother nature breathing, earthy and natural, nothing industrial or mechanized about it.
Obi-Wan soaked it all in before grabbing his pack and fishing rod, the weight of everything sat heavy on his back. He'd gone out and bought a new rod, splurging on a top-of-the-line model that reminded him of Qui-Gon, the wood coated with a dark varnish, highlights of blonde slipping through the darker streaks. Slamming the back hatch closed Obi-Wan locked the doors to his car and headed up the path, a skip in his step he'd not had in a long while.
The hike was forty minutes if you really went for it, but Obi-Wan kept his pace slow, soaking in the feel of gravel beneath his boots and the soft brush of mountain air on his cheeks. Birds and squirrels chittered away in the trees, reminding him he wasn't alone. The bear spray was a comfort. Rounding his way down the and up the trail, Obi-Wan noted small landmarks that remained the same from his youth: a massive log that had been felled decades ago, still present if not a little chewed up, sawdust and bits of bark strewn about at the base; an old parks sign that welcomed hikers to the area along with a sun damaged map, plastic warping under years of harsh weather until it was rendered almost useless, and a bench put up by frequent hikers who wanted a resting spot before they went on further up the trail, waterfalls and canyon trails and rock climbing spots tucked away for those willing to make the extra few miles.
Obi-Wan stopped at the campground. Some upgrades had been made since Obi-Wan had come - a new outhouse with a proper seat rather than a wooden bench that splintered when you sat on it, a bear-proof locker to store food in, and a water pump had been set up near the outhouse. But other than that it was bare bones, just Obi-Wan and nature and--
He stopped at the campsite he'd booked. There was someone else there. Someone else at his campsite.
A small tent was set up near the outer edge and a hammock had been hooked up between two trees. Wood had recently been chopped and stacked up next to the fire pit, and a rough wool blanket was draped across a large log. A small kerosene lamp sat on the picnic table along with a deck of cards and some automotive part, stripped down and freshly greased.
Obi-Wan hesitated. Had he made a mistake? Did he book the site on the wrong week? Dropping his backpack down on to the ground he rustled around in the top pouch, pulling out his printed reservation. No, he hadn't made a mistake; it was the correct date.
So he wasn't the interloper - it was whoever this person was, with their hammock. Obi-Wan felt a tiny spark of annoyance the longer he looked at the set-up before him, from the tent to the neatly chopped wood to the hammock. Who brought a hammock to a campsite?
Entering the space Obi-Wan tossed his backpack down on to the ground furthest away from the tent on the other side and pondered his situation. Clearly the other person was going to need to leave - pick a new spot or just go all together. But the person was nowhere to be seen, Obi-Wan completely alone in the space. He glanced at his watch and noted it was going to get dark soon.
There was just nothing for it - he was going to set up and hope whoever finally showed up understood that this was his campsite. He had the papers to prove it.
Thankfully he didn't have to wait long for the mysterious stranger to show up. He'd only just managed to set up his tent and throw his food stuffs into the locker when footsteps were heard along the pathway. Glancing up from the cupboard he locked eyes with the interloper.
Before him stood perhaps one of the most beautiful humans Obi-Wan had ever seen. He was tall and broad, with a narrow waist and long legs. Hands - strong and covered in dust - held on to climbing equipment slung over his shoulder, black t-shirt clinging obscenely to over his chest. But it was his face that caught Obi-Wan off-guard. He looked like a classical painting or statue, large blue eyes framed with thick lashes and high cheekbones, a strong nose that led one's gaze down to plush, full lips and a dimpled chin. Honey brown curls framed his face, shimmering under the sunlight that streamed in through the canopy above.
The boy - a man, really - looked between Obi-Wan and his own things, confusion on his features before annoyance flashed across, brows furrowing, pretty lips pressing into a tight line.
"What are you doing in my spot?" he asked, voice surprisingly delicate.
Obi-Wan blinked back the haze of lust that had momentarily dulled his senses, and he matched the man in temperament. So this wasn't going to be easy.
"It's actually my spot," he said, pulling out the reservation from his back pocket. He hurried over to the man and passed it over, ignoring how he was slightly taller than him.
The man took the sheet and read it over, brows still furrowed. He glanced up at Obi-Wan and passed the sheet back. "Looks like we've been double booked."
"What?"
The man pulled his phone from his back pocket and scrolled through it, finding a screen cap. He passed it over to Obi-Wan, dusty fingerprints marring the screen. But sure enough, beneath the swirls of the prints and the glare from the sun on the screen, Obi-Wan could see he'd booked the space for the exact same length and duration.
"Oh," was all Obi-Wan could say.
"Yeah."
They stood in uneasy silence, Obi-Wan feeling the man's gaze - intense and unmoving - on him. He resisted the urge to turn away from him. He wasn't going to back down - not on this one. This was supposed to be his vacation, his downtime, his easy, relaxing, no-complications week, and he wasn't about to let some extremely attractive young man ruin it for him.
"So..." he said unhelpfully.
"So."
They remained standing.
Oh, this is getting ridiculous.
Just as Obi-Wan was about to end the stalemate by suggesting they share the area - despite everything in his head telling him that this wasn't how it was supposed to be, and why couldn't he just have one week free of people - the man moved, gaze leaving Obi-Wan as he turned to go to his tent. Obi-Wan watched as he dropped his ropes and climbing equipment next to his tent before he wandered off through the underbrush toward the river nearby. He squatted down next to the river and cleaned his hands off, back to Obi-Wan, pert ass flexing beneath the confines of his jeans.
Not that Obi-Wan was looking.
That was that, then. They were sharing or something.
With great hesitation and confusion Obi-Wan returned to his tent, eying the young man as he remained next to the river, hands on his hips and head tilted back as he soaked in the sun. Taking a second longer than was strictly necessary or appropriate, Obi-Wan admired the curve of his neck before slipping into his tent to finish unpacking.
Sharing wasn't ideal but it was preferable to leaving. Or getting into a fist fight with the man for the space. Not that Obi-Wan didn't think he could win, but the man looked like he knew how to throw a punch. And, perhaps more importantly, he also looked like he wasn't above fighting dirty.
He finished setting up his bedding - sleeping mat blown up, bag unfolded, pillow fluffed up - and returned to the now 'shared' space with a book in hand, determined to get some reading in by the river before the sun went away for the day. He found the man standing next to the fire pit, a pile of wood in the centre full of bits of kindling and some scrunched up newspaper.
Well at least the man seemed competent enough to build a fire. That was reassuring. Obi-Wan didn't fancy having to teach some kid the basics of wilderness survival when he was supposed to be taking a vacation from that very thing. Not that he taught his ancient Jedi history courses how to build fires, but the point remained, he would not and absolutely refused to teach anything on his week off.
"So I guess we're sharing the space then?" Obi-Wan asked.
The man looked up from his matches, and Obi-Wan was once again struck with just how pretty he was. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, if you're fine with that?"
Obi-Wan nodded. He wasn't really, but there was nothing for it.
The man went back to his fire building. He knelt down on to the dirt and lit a match before placing it carefully inside the pile of wood. The kindling caught quickly, small curls of smoke turning into larger puffs. The man blew on the smoke gently, coaxing more of the fire out. Obi-Wan tried not to look at his lips as he blew but found it rather hard, especially when the man broke out into a brilliant smile as the fire came to life with a loud crackle and a burst of sparks.
"Good job," he said, meaning it. The fire was built impressively, reminding him a little of Qui-Gon's skills. He'd never been very good at it, having to use up multiple matches and too much kindling to get it to finally ignite.
"Thanks," the man said. If Obi-Wan didn't know any better he'd have said he blushed at the compliment.
"Where did you learn to build fires like this?" Obi-Wan asked, book forgotten as it rested in his hand.
"From books," he replied, shrugging. "Read a lot of weird shit when I was a kid and just... applied it, I guess."
Obi-Wan raised a brow.
"You look surprised," the man said, an edge to his voice. He raised his chin and looked at Obi-Wan with those frighteningly intense eyes. "I can read, you know."
"I'm sorry, did I look surprised?" he asked quickly. Where had this all come from? One moment the man was blushing at his compliment and now he looked ready to throw him into the river.
"Yeah, you did," he said.
"I didn't mean to; my apologies. It's just quite a skill you have," Obi-Wan remarked. "I teach, you see, and most students learn better from verbal instruction and visual cues - a combination of the two. Reading instructions and then being able to apply them immediately is a talent."
"Oh... well, thanks." The man's shoulders lowered, as if Obi-Wan had taken the wind right out of his sails. He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, the blush back on his perfect cheeks.
Both their attentions turned back to the fire, Obi-Wan contented with watching the hypnotizing way the flames flickered about the wood, swirling and dancing as it spread across dense bark and pale interior. Sparks flew up now and again, pops and crackles heard as sap leaked out and burned. The smell of campfire soothed Obi-Wan, tension leaving him. Maybe this whole sharing the space thing would be good for him; they could trade off on the daily chores, both shouldering the sometimes tedious job of surviving in the wilderness like fetching water and building fires. And if it was with such a handsome man who seemed to have no social graces, well...
"Hey, what's your name?"
The man's delicate voice broke Obi-Wan from his revere and he looked up at him, locking eyes. Had they really not introduced themselves?
"Obi-Wan," he said, extending his hand to the man.
The man smiled - bright and bold and almost overwhelming - before he taking Obi-Wan's hand in his own. His palms were calloused, grip strong and warm. Obi-Wan let their touch linger, trying desperately to ignore the way his stomach did a little somersault from the simple contact.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Anakin."
Anakin. Now that was a sweet name. It held a certain grace - a dignity in it. Refined and strong but still delicate. Anakin. Ana-kin.
"That's a lovely name," Obi-Wan said, withdrawing his hand from Anakin's.
"My mum gave it to me," Anakin said, blush once again on his cheeks.
Obi-Wan resisted the urge to laugh and instead looked off to the river. The sun was setting - he really ought to get out there now if he wanted to get anywhere with his book. Anakin followed his gaze, brow raised.
"You see something?" he asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I was just thinking how if I want to get any reading done by the river I ought to head over there now."
"Oh, okay."
Obi-Wan sent Anakin a lazy salute with his book before he trudged over to the river, picking his way through the underbrush. He was stopped halfway, however, by Anakin's voice.
"Hey, Obi-Wan!"
He turned to see Anakin stood by the fire, hands shoved in his pockets. "What?" he called back.
"Do you have your own food? Like for dinner and stuff?"
"Uh, yes. Of course. Do you?"
"Yeah, lots. I just didn't know... I mean, never mind."
Obi-Wan smiled tightly and turned back around, completing his trek to the river.
What an intriguing man...
XXX
They ate dinner in tense silence, sat across from one another with the fire in-between. Obi-Wan was perfectly content to remain quiet, enjoying the sounds of the fire and the gentle rush of the river nearby, but Anakin kept looking like he wanted to say something. He'd shift around on his perch on the log, glancing at Obi-Wan through the flames before ducking his head when Obi-Wan looked back expectantly.
Finally, once their dinners were finished and dishes rinsed in the river, Anakin found his voice.
"So do you camp a lot?"
"I used to," Obi-Wan said. "When I was a child my uncle would take me out regularly - right to this spot, actually."
"That sounds nice."
Obi-Wan nodded, a small smile playing on his lips he was reluctant to stop. "It was. He taught me how to forage, how to fish, which animals were which and what role they played in the ecosystem. How to build fires, though not as impressive as yours."
Anakin smiled. He looked more severe under the firelight, strong features more pronounced, his youth stripped away as the flames danced beneath him. And yet he still remained terribly beautiful.
Silence once again took over, but this time it was a little more comfortable, both easing into the unexpected companionship.
"And you?" Obi-Wan asked after a time. "Do you camp a lot? I saw a van down below and I'm going to assume it's yours?"
Anakin nodded. He picked up the fire stick and moved one of the logs around, sparks shooting up. "Been driving around for the last few year or so. Just following whatever roads I find to see where they'll take me."
That sounded exhilarating. Liberating, even. To just pack up and go - take off with no plans, nothing holding you back save for your own insecurities. For a moment Obi-Wan felt a pang of jealousy, the intense need to live as Anakin had almost overwhelming. But then it was gone, just like the sparks in the air. Obi-Wan would get uncomfortable with the lack of routine and certainty quickly, and miss his friends almost instantly.
"Living life on the road must get lonely," he said.
Anakin just shrugged.
It was early by Obi-Wan's standards but he began to feel sluggish, body rolling forward, limbs feeling heavy and lids even heavier. It had been a long day of driving and longer still setting up. He wanted to crawl into bed and wake to the sounds of bird for once, with crisp mountain air filling his lungs and the promise of a cup of tea over a morning fire.
"I think I'm going to call it a night," Obi-Wan said, standing. He stretched his arms over his head, grunting as his spine popped. He felt Anakin's eyes raking over him but chose to ignore it. He knew Anakin wasn't interested in him - he just happened to be the only thing moving around. His attention was bound to be drawn.
"Alright. Have a good sleep," Anakin said quietly.
Obi-Wan nodded before slipping into his tent, zipping the door up using the light of the fire behind him. Once inside he changed quickly into his pajamas, nighttime air cooling the space. He zipped himself up into his sleeping bag and lay on his back, staring up at the nylon canopy of his tent. As he fell asleep all he could think about was Anakin's eyes as they reflected the fire.