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“Accept your resignation from the Knighthood, the Council does.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. He looked sideways at Anakin, who was radiating pain and anxiety in the Force. Good. Obi-Wan hoped that seeing the consequences of their actions play out would be instructive, in a way that his words alone had not been.

Anakin had failed him, and yet he was the only thing that mattered. 

Master Yoda’s voice was both resigned and smug. “Knew something like this might happen, I did.”

“You did?” Obi-Wan said, taken aback. He remembered their conversation on Naboo a decade before, and knew that Yoda hadn’t supported his request to take Anakin as a Padawan. He hadn’t known why.

“Concerns about attachment I had at the time. Overruled, they were.” Yoda gave Master Windu a sideways look, and Obi-Wan fought the instinct to smile. Windu looked like he had a headache, and wasn’t looking directly at either of them. Had the shatterpoints shifted that much? 

“Grow deeply attached, you always have.” Yoda gave Obi-Wan a long, evaluating stare. “Grateful, I am, that told us, you did. Your decision, the right one it was, yes.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head again. “In light of recent events—” He swallowed thickly, squaring his shoulders. “—There was no other viable option.”

Anakin shifted uncomfortably when Yoda’s eyes landed on him instead. 

Obi-Wan felt like the spotlight had been removed, and appreciated it greatly. The entire Council had been called for the meeting, but more than half were in holo—already on the field, already fighting the war. Only Yoda, Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Saesee Tiin were present. 

Other than Shaak Ti on Kamino, Obi-Wan had no idea where the rest of them were.

Anakin asked hesitantly, “What’s going to happen to me, Master?”

It was Windu who answered, his tone flat. “The Republic has no jurisdiction on Tatooine, and there is no legal system there in which to file a complaint. There will be no civil prosecution.”

Anakin exhaled hard.

“However,” Windu continued, his tone severe. “No matter where in the galaxy you went, you were still a Jedi Padawan when the acts were committed. You are under the jurisdiction of the Jedi disciplinary process.”

The Council chamber was very quiet. 

“What does that mean?” Anakin said, his words rushed. “What are you going to do?”

Windu shifted in his seat, giving Yoda a sideways look. “We are not going to send you to the Chamber of Judgement at this time. Your resignation would have been asked for, and it has already been offered. We accept your resignation, with conditions.”

“Conditions?” Anakin sounded breathless, and Obi-Wan could feel relief radiating in the Force from him in waves. He looked at Yoda and realized from Yoda’s exasperated expression that he could feel it too. 

Windu sighed. “You are on probation, Skywalker, for the duration of the war, after which point we will reconvene on the case.”

“I’ve never heard of probation?” Anakin turned a statement into a question, and Obi-Wan pursed his lips in mild annoyance. Was he ever going to stop doing that?  

“Work, you must.” Yoda said, his tone oddly pleased. “At the Temple, you must remain. Socialize with politicians, you may not! Wander the galaxy, you may not!”

“Politicians, you mean—” Anakin sounded taken aback.

“The Chancellor,” Windu said immediately, cutting him off. “Your strange friendship with the leader of the Galactic Republic ends now, Skywalker. That was a privilege, not a right. You lost that privilege.” 

Anakin nodded reluctantly as if that made sense, though he was a roiling mess of indignation and sadness in the Force. He fixed his posture, clasping his hands politely. “What do you want me to do?”

Yoda tapped his gimer stick on the ground. “The most valuable part of the Temple to the Jedi Order, know what it is, do you?”

“No.” Anakin wrinkled his brow, and looked at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow back, telling him nothing. Anakin turned his face back to Yoda. “The Archives?”

Yoda hummed. “Knowledge, very precious it is. A good guess. Obi-Wan?”

“The younglings,” Obi-Wan said immediately, and then corrected himself. “The elders and the younglings.”

“The heart of the Order, they are.” Yoda nodded. “Its future and its past, yes.”

Plo Koon spoke up. “Your resignations come with remarkable timing. All of our Knights are being called up to act as Generals for the Republic. They will be sent out to fight.”

Obi-Wan completed the thought. “Leaving few here to teach and protect the Temple.”

“Yes,” Yoda nodded, his ears drooping. “Many teachers, Generals they have become. Knights, you are not, but the skills of Knights, you have. Taught to defend themselves, the younglings still must be. Protected, the Temple must be. Many enemies, the Jedi have. Vulnerable, we cannot be.”

Anakin looked baffled. “You want me to teach? After what I—” 

Yoda scoffed. “Much to teach you, the younglings have. Discipline and focus, you sorely need.” He nodded with finality. “By teaching, one learns.”

“Your skills have never been in question, Skywalker.” Ki-Adi-Mundi’s tone was neutral. “The application of those skills has always been the concern. For the duration of the war, it is safest and most productive for you to focus on passing on those skills to others. You would do no good to anyone locked up.”

“Okay,” Anakin said, shaken. 

Windu’s voice was fierce. “Break probation, use the dark side, abuse our trust, and you will find out the full measure of the Order’s justice, do you understand?”

Anakin swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

“What do you want of me?” Obi-Wan asked, watching Anakin’s face with concern. “Am I on probation as well? I violated the Code.”

“Resignation is sufficient for you,” Windu said, almost amused. “Your punishment is supervising Skywalker’s probation.” 

“What?” Obi-Wan said, surprised. Windu spoke jokingly, as if being responsible for managing Anakin was a punishment in and of itself. It wasn’t, and they both knew it.

“Teach too, you must,” Yoda gave Windu a chiding look. “A group of initiates, nearly of age to become Padawans they are. Sent into the field as Commanders, they will be. Prepared, they are not. Prepared, they must be!”

Obi-Wan dipped his head. “I understand.”

“We’re going to teach, together?” Anakin’s voice and presence in the Force was beginning to settle and glow with excitement. “Lightsaber combat? Flight training?”

Windu and Yoda nodded in unison, and Anakin smiled, relieved. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Yoda said, satisfied. “Learn from this, you will. Dismissed you are.”

Obi-Wan bowed in unison with Anakin, and they left the room together. The doors slid shut behind them, closing with a soft click. 

Anakin threw his arms around Obi-Wan and hugged him tight, and Obi-Wan realized that he was shaking. He hugged him back, rubbing a hand soothingly and looking around at the empty halls. So many Jedi, gone off to war. There was no one here to see, no one to judge

“Shall we go get your things?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, pulling back to look at Anakin’s face. 

Anakin smiled and nodded, trailing after as Obi-Wan began to walk to the lifts. “That was… that was so much better than I expected.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I think the war has changed their priorities. They are more pragmatic than I expected, but it’s good. We don’t have to search for a way to help.”

When they were in the lifts, descending rapidly from the top of the tower, Anakin spoke again, almost sounding shy. “I wonder if I’ll be a good teacher. They didn’t like me when I was a student. The other Padawans.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rested a hand gently on his shoulder. “I think you will be a phenomenal teacher. You are attentive and skilled. I will be there to help, but I don’t think you’ll need it. It will be different when you aren’t in competition with them.”

“I hope so.” Anakin sighed, and ran his hand through his short hair. Would he grow it out now? How long? “I’m still glad you’re going to be there.”

Obi-Wan let his hand slide down Anakin’s back comfortingly, and Anakin shivered and shot him a hot glance that was full of want. Obi-Wan felt a responding pulse of desire, and pulled his hand back as though burnt.

“Master,” Anakin began, “Can we—”

The lift doors opened, and Obi-Wan smiled. “Later, Anakin.”

Anakin sighed and followed him again. “Fine.”

The dormitory floors for Padawans were airy and spacious. Anakin’s room was located near the back, and the walk there was uncanny—it was so quiet. Most of the Padawans must have been sent out with their Masters, leaving rows of rooms standing empty. 

Obi-Wan hoped fervently that their occupants would return soon.

He let Anakin punch in his room code and enter first, waving off Anakin’s apologetic noises about the mess. “I’ll go get some moving boxes. You get started… cleaning up.”

Anakin nodded, and began to pile his clothes haphazardly on his bed. Obi-Wan sighed and left him to it, searching out some boxes from a supply closet. He knew that Anakin didn’t have too many personal belongings, no Jedi did, but he did have spare clothes and a slowly growing collection of tools that he’d borrowed on a semi-permanent basis from the communal tool supply. 

Obi-Wan returned with boxes to find a more organized form of chaos. Anakin was carefully taking down his posters of podracing stars and ship schematics. He placed them in a box with a sideways, hopeful look at Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan understood to mean a request to hang them in his apartment. He nodded, and Anakin beamed.

He seemed to get distracted by the realization that they were alone, and his hands jumped to Obi-Wan’s tabards, pulling him close. Obi-Wan huffed, and allowed himself to be moved, and then kissed, for a long, pleasant moment. He fell into Anakin, the addictive taste of his lips, his warm proximity, the Force shimmering with want. 

All it had cost was everything Obi-Wan had thought he wanted—everything he had thought he was, traded for this. 

It was worth it.

Obi-Wan pulled back, trying to catch his breath. He stared at Anakin for a long moment, and then disengaged, moving back to the other side of the room, adjusting his pants slightly uncomfortably. 

Anakin whined, “Erastēs, can we please, there’s nobody—

“Not yet,” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head.

Anakin groaned, and got back to work. Silence stretched out, the room emptying quickly. Obi-Wan heard Anakin sigh wistfully at the small collection of tools and droid parts he had piled on his small desk, and felt a surge of fondness. He said casually, “You know, HD-9 has been complaining that the large fern from Takodana near the windows has outgrown the apartment. It apparently needs to be moved to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I could let the droid have its way, and ask that a workbench be put in its place.”

“What? Really?” Anakin’s eyes were wide, the Force blooming with his excitement. “You’d do that?”

“You need room for your things,” Obi-Wan shrugged and picked up one of the boxes, moving it to the desk. “It’s going to be your home too.”

“It is,” Anakin said, like a revelation. He set down a hydrospanner in a box absently, causing an audible slide of smaller parts underneath. He grimaced apologetically at the box, and then looked at Obi-Wan again. “You really mean it.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling slightly in exasperation. “I said so, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Anakin acknowledged. “I just…” He began to quickly place the rest of his tools in the box, his haste jumbling it all together. “It didn’t seem real. It still doesn’t.”

“It is real,” Obi-Wan said warmly. He sat on the bed, waiting for Anakin to finish. “I meant it.”

It didn’t take much longer to pack, and it only took one trip between the Padawans’ Hall and Obi-Wan’s rooms, with Anakin insisting on floating the extra boxes behind them. His hurry had only increased as the minutes passed, and Obi-Wan had a good sense of why. 

The door had just slid shut behind them, when Anakin turned to face him, his eyes dark and intent. “Obi-Wan, now can we—”

Obi-Wan cut him off with a smile. “I want you to go use the ‘fresher. Clean everywhere you want me to touch.”

Anakin looked surprised, and then Obi-Wan watched understanding wash over his face. He grinned and moved quickly toward the ‘fresher door.

Obi-Wan called after him. “And, Anakin?” 

Anakin stopped, and looked back expectantly. 


Anakin blushed and nodded, smiling at him shyly. 

Obi-Wan gave him a fond look, and waved a hand, dismissing him. “Go.” 

Anakin hurried away, and Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders back, tilting his head from side to side, cracking his neck. He moved the boxes of Anakin’s things further into the living room, and tapped a request for HD-9 to move the over-large fern. He put down the datapad with a sigh, looking around the messy room. Much left to do.

He heard Anakin moving around in the ‘fresher, his clothing hitting the floor, and allowed himself to think about Anakin’s naked body. For obvious reasons, most of the time Obi-Wan had rigorously kept down any thoughts when they bubbled up after Helas 4—memories of Anakin’s golden skin and strong shoulders, his long legs, spread wide, the tight, pink entrance between them.

Obi-Wan glanced at the ‘fresher door and took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.  

His memories supplied him instead with Anakin, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, standing so close, whispering in his ear, “Please, Master. Just this once. Will you please fuck me?”

Obi-Wan was glad beyond measure that he hadn’t fucked him then, because it mean that he was getting to fuck him here and now, when it really mattered and really counted. They were both sober, and both civilian members of the Jedi Order. They were equals in every way that mattered, and so Obi-Wan was going to fuck him, finally get to take him, press his cock inside, fuck his ass like he’d wanted to, hear him moan

Suddenly a flood of new images all at once: Obi-Wan pushing Anakin down on the bed, kissing his neck, whispering lowly that Anakin was doing so well, being so good for him, letting him touch him. Obi-Wan’s head snapped toward the ‘fresher, and he wanted to laugh. Anakin must have sensed his thoughts, and was returning the favor. The images kept coming. Obi-Wan taking Anakin up against the wall in the ‘fresher, bent over a counter in the kitchen, sitting on the sofa with Anakin in his lap, sliding up and down on his cock, panting.

Obi-Wan gave up thinking about anything else, and headed into the bedroom. He dug around in his bedside table and located a small bottle of lubricant that he’d had for years, and checked the expiration date. It seemed to be fine. 

He began unfastening his belt, and was unwrapping his sash when the Force suddenly spiked with want again. Anakin’s voice was husky. “Can I help?”

Obi-Wan looked at the door, his hands freezing in place. Anakin had neglected to put his clothes back on. Convenient, and distracting. Obi-Wan’s voice came out strangled. “Anakin…” 

Anakin beamed, and moved closer, taking over removing Obi-Wan’s clothes with enthusiasm. Obi-Wan let it happen, allowing Anakin to enjoy the process. He seemed to find great satisfaction in removing Obi-Wan’s tunics, layer by layer. His voice was full of it. “I’ve dreamed of doing this.”

“Hmm?” Obi-Wan asked, obediently raising his arms as Anakin tugged off his undershirt. 

“Yes, perfect,” Anakin breathed, his left hand stroking down Obi-Wan’s bare chest, feeling the hair there with an intoxicated look on his face. “Master.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured in reply. He looked Anakin up and down, eyes lingering on his cock, already so hard. “Go lay on the bed.”

“I’m not done,” Anakin scowled, his hands moving to unfasten Obi-Wan’s heavy wool trousers.

“Patience.” Obi-Wan caught his hands, and squeezed them. “Go lay on the bed, paidika, I want to look at you.”

Anakin huffed and withdrew his hands, giving Obi-Wan a mutinous look and a firm kiss before moving away. Obi-Wan watched him walk, the flex of his strong muscles moving smoothly under soft skin. 

Anakin sat heavily on the bed, pushing back to lay flat, his head thumping back on Obi-Wan’s pillow. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as Anakin turned his head, inhaling Obi-Wan’s scent and sighing in satisfaction. He caught Obi-Wan’s eye, and his face flushed. “It smells like you.”

“I should hope so,” Obi-Wan said, laughing. He moved next to the bed, stroking Anakin’s thigh. It trembled slightly, and Obi-Wan met Anakin’s eyes, and he looked so vulnerable, so open.

“Obi-Wan, I haven’t…” Anakin licked his lips and tried again. “I don’t actually know….”

Obi-Wan shushed him. “I know. It’s good, paidika. Will you let me teach you how?” 

“Please,” Anakin whined, one of his hands moving to press on his cock. 

Obi-Wan smiled, and hummed negatively. “Hands to your sides. If you come too soon, you might be oversensitive before we even come to…” His hand stopped its stroking of Anakin’s leg and gripped tighter. “What you’ve been begging me for months to do to you.”

Anakin’s hands clenched tightly into fists by his side, his cock flushed and thick. “Fuck me, Master.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan laughed again, making Anakin’s eyes sparkle. “That.”

Obi-Wan removed the rest of his clothes, letting his pants pool on the floor and stepping out of them. Anakin’s eyes were jumping between fixing on his cock and flicking up and down his body. “I haven’t seen you naked before. Like this.”

Obi-Wan nodded, moving to kneel on the bed, sliding around to be between Anakin’s spread legs. “Not an accident, darling.”

Anakin’s breathing was shallow, his eyes wide. “What now?”

Obi-Wan made a thoughtful noise, stroking up Anakin’s legs and parting his thighs slowly. Anakin obediently shifted his weight, letting Obi-Wan press his legs further apart. “Give me a pillow.”

“What?” Anakin asked blankly. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, and let the question compute. Anakin blushed and pulled one of the pillows from beside his head into Obi-Wan’s hand. “I’m listening.”

Obi-Wan leaned down and kissed the inside of Anakin's thigh fondly. “I know you are.” He sat back, moving the pillow. “Hips up, let me try to make your back more comfortable while I open you up.”

Anakin nodded, his cheeks flushed red. He let Obi-Wan position the pillow and his hips, and spread his legs as wide as he could, which was impressively wide. Obi-Wan smiled at his eagerness, at his willingness to expose himself. He wanted this, so badly, he wanted Obi-Wan to touch him. He loved him. 

The thought made Obi-Wan shiver, and sit back. He looked around his room, the familiar room he’d spent so many anxious night after so many exhausting days. To have Anakin, here, like this—to be allowed to do this, choose this, devote himself to this.

“You are very beautiful, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, running his hands up and down Anakin’s inner thighs, moving slowly higher and higher up. “Let me look at you.”

Anakin whined and shifted, opening his legs still wider and tipping his hips. “Please, touch me. I would do anything.”

“Would you be patient?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and Anakin groaned.

“Anything but that.”

Obi-Wan laughed, and reached for the bottle of lube. Anakin’s presence in the Force felt simultaneously like a hot bath, a massage, and three glasses of good wine—Obi-Wan let his eyes flutter shut for a moment, appreciating the feeling of Anakin’s desire hovering in the back of his own mind, in the Force around them, in Anakin’s supernova of a Force signature. 

“Ugh!” Anakin started moving his hips impatiently, “Fuck me, Master, stop feeling me up in the Force, fuck me!”

Obi-Wan made eye contact and they smiled at each other. “Sorry, dearest. You are magnificent in the Force, you know. Beautiful. It’s distracting.”

The praise made Anakin blush, spreading down his neck to his chest and to the tips of his ears. His cock was flushed and hard, leaking precome onto his stomach. He shifted his hips again, almost involuntarily. 

Obi-Wan popped the top of the lube, slicking up his finger liberally. Anakin watched, fascinated. “What are you going to do?”

“First?” Obi-Wan hummed in mock deliberation. “I’m going to finger you, loosen you up a little. I might suck your cock a little while I do it, but I don’t want you to come yet, so…” Obi-Wan brushed his slick fingers lightly back from Anakin’s balls, spreading the lube over the sensitive skin. 

Anakin gasped at the first contact, and slammed his head back on the pillow. He tried to spread his legs even wider. “Master, please. I want to feel you inside me.”

Obi-Wan made no reply except gently pressing on Anakin’s hole, testing the muscle. He smirked when his fingers pressed easily inside. “Did you finger yourself in the ‘fresher, love?”

Anakin nodded, panting. “Yes, Master.”

“Very good,” Obi-Wan murmured, leaning forward and sucking the head of Anakin’s cock into his mouth at the same time as he slid two fingers inside. Anakin made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut, his back arching slightly. 

“Obi-Wan, that feels, Obi-Wan…” His voice was almost disbelieving. Obi-Wan began moving his slick fingers in and out gently, getting Anakin used to the sensation of getting fucked by something other than his own fingers. After only perhaps a minute, Anakin was whining, “I’m ready, I want you to…” 

Obi-Wan pulled his mouth off Anakin’s cock, his voice coming out much lower than usual, much more intent. “Have you ever used toys, Anakin? Put anything in your ass other than your fingers?”

“No,” Anakin swallowed nervously, his cheeks so red, his chest heaving. “Never.”

Obi-Wan scissored his fingers apart, stretching Anakin wider, making him moan. “My cock is thicker than my fingers, longer too. It will feel different, be harder to take. So have patience, alright, my darling?”

Anakin nodded obediently, “Sorry, Master, I know you know best, I just… I want it.”

Obi-Wan quickly added another slick finger in reply, making Anakin groan and tense. Obi-Wan licked up his cock in apology, sucking gently on the head, letting him adjust to the sensation. 

“Please, I…” Anakin whined as Obi-Wan slowly and methodically fucked him with his fingers. Obi-Wan hummed around Anakin’s cock, and Anakin’s hips jerked dramatically. “Master, I want, I want it, please.”

Obi-Wan sat back, watching his fingers slide in and out of Anakin’s ass. “You are taking them so well, Anakin. I think you’re ready. Do you feel ready?” He asked in a teasing tone, just to see Anakin’s exasperation. He was so perfect. 

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s expression was fierce. “I swear by the Force if you are not in—”

Obi-Wan pulled his fingers out, and slicked up his cock quickly, tossing the lube aside. He was hovering on his elbows over Anakin before Anakin could stop complaining, the tip of his cock pressed against Anakin's slick entrance. 

Anakin gasped, his eyes going wide. Obi-Wan leaned down, kissing him on the forehead, the tip of his nose, and then his open mouth, gently sucking on his bottom lip for a moment before he pulled his head back. He watched Anakin’s face closely as he began to push his cock inside. He was so beautiful.

It only took a moment before Anakin tensed, and Obi-Wan kissed him again quickly. “Push down, against it, let me in, Anakin, let me in.”

Anakin nodded, his expression focused. Obi-Wan pressed his hips forward, and the tight heat of Anakin’s body accepted him, deeper and deeper. He made a noise low in this chest with satisfaction, his voice a low rumble. “You feel so good, darling, my paidika.”

“I do?” Anakin asked, sounding overwhelmed, intoxicated, so very eager to please. “I’m good?”

“So good,” Obi-Wan nodded, and kissed him again, pushing his hips in deeper before pulling back out. Anakin whined at the change of sensation, and Obi-Wan’s hips fucked forward at the sound, thrusting deeper than before. 

So close... he was so close to being completely buried inside Anakin. His cock was so deep in Anakin, and Anakin was so hot, so tight, the lube was so slick, it was easy, so easy, so perfect to fuck him. 

His hips finally met Anakin’s and they stared at each other, the moment lasting a lifetime and an instant. Anakin wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s back, tugging him closer and holding him tight. Obi-Wan didn’t move, letting them both adjust. 

“I love you, Master,” Anakin whispered in his ear. “I love having your cock inside me, it’s just like I wanted, I love it.” 

Obi-Wan groaned, Anakin’s murmuring driving him insane. He flexed his hips forward, beginning to fuck Anakin in earnest, falling into the warmth of his embrace and the soft pressure around his cock. “You feel so good,” Obi-Wan said in disbelief. "So good, Anakin."

Anakin whined, holding him closer. Obi-Wan adjusted his hips, trying as best he could to rub his cock against the place that he knew would make Anakin come. With a few exploratory thrusts, he found the right angle. “Master!” Anakin gasped. “Obi-Wan, what the kark was, how, that—”

Obi-Wan laughed and began to fuck him faster, the angle making Anakin shudder and moan, “I’m going to… You only just started, and I'm... I'm so close, Obi-Wan, I'm sorry, I'm—”

“Just come, Anakin.” Obi-Wan ordered with a grin, “Can you come from me fucking you? I'd love to see you come on my cock, love to see you come, I love you, Anakin—”

“Obi-Wan, yes!” Anakin gasped, and then moaned loudly, come beginning to spill onto his stomach, his untouched cock twitching as he came.

Obi-Wan felt the echo of Anakin's orgasm in the Force and saw stars—the sight and sound of Anakin’s orgasm mixed with their bond was more than enough to push him over the edge, his own pleasure spiking and releasing in a tremendous wave. He slammed his hips home one last time, and he came too, his head dipping forward and meeting Anakin’s lips for a messy kiss.

Their pleasure was a feedback loop in the Force, their joy and satisfaction resonating and harmonizing with each other. Obi-Wan pulled his head back and slid his cock out, watching to see his come trickle out behind. He’d come inside Anakin, he’d marked him, he was his, he was home. 

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan’s fascination with amused understanding, and then pulled him back down against his chest, holding him tight. “Thank you, Master. That was perfect. I'll last longer next time, I promise.”

“No need to worry, Anakin, it was perfect.” Obi-Wan agreed, kissing him gently. “However, I need both of us to be clean before we keep laying on my bed. Our bed.” He corrected. 

Anakin grinned. “You make a good argument. It is ours.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and pulled away. “Come on, to the ‘fresher. I’ll request new sheets.”

Anakin sighed dramatically and then did as instructed, moving gingerly to the ‘fresher as Obi-Wan fiddled with his datapad. “That was intense, Master.”

“Worth the wait?” Obi-Wan caught up with him, his question half-sarcastic, half-serious. 

Anakin just kissed him, and pulled him inside the ‘fresher. “Obviously.”

A droid had changed the sheets on the bed by the time they’d returned, and though it was still early afternoon, they both instinctively returned to a similar position to the one they’d left, curled around each other. 

It was so quiet, and so calm. It was beginning to sink in that this was theirs, they didn’t have to fight for it, they didn’t have to hide. They could have this, every day. It was impossible, and it was perfect. 

Anakin’s comm chimed, and he rolled lazily to the side, reaching and grasping it with his fingers. 

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked, curious despite himself.

Anakin shrugged and tossed the comm back to the bedside table. “The Chancellor wants to have dinner.”

Obi-Wan made a thoughtful noise. “I need to report to the Council that he’s continuing to contact you. I’m sure that he was just informed that the terms of your probation involve confinement to the Temple.”

“He’s probably just worried, he has no idea what happened on Tatooine, I hadn’t seen him before I saw you. I already miss him, he was so nice to me,” Anakin sighed, and rubbed his cheek on Obi-Wan’s chest, burrowing into his warmth. “But I don’t need him. I need you.”

Obi-Wan kissed his head in response, smelling his hair and smiling. “You can nap, paidika.”

“Yes, erastēs,” Anakin murmured. His head grew heavier on Obi-Wan’s chest as he relaxed completely into his embrace. “You sleep too, Master.”

“I will,” Obi-Wan said, already feeling drowsy. It was strange to feel sleepy without his usual routine of counting the problems in his life and then devising solutions. Anakin's breathing was slowly growing even, and Obi-Wan smiled fondly at him before closing his eyes. Everything was going to be fine. They would figure it all out—later, together. They had all the time in the world.