#*10 mins later* 'permission to speak freely sir' 'granted' 'you look really fripping hot in armor'

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 1: Hurt/Comfort of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: M/M Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan Kenobi Notable Tags: Blood and Injury, Concussions, Mandalorian Culture, Blunting Teeth

“daze of our lives”

“You’re an idiot,” Cody said bluntly, manhandling Obi-Wan onto the ‘fresher sink like he weighed nothing more than a bunch of Alderaani emerald grapes. A feat made even more impressive by the fact that Obi-Wan was fully kitted out in a standard set of trooper armor and the commander wasn’t even wearing his own blacks.

“Yes, Cody, thank you for reminding me.”

The look he shot Obi-Wan was normally reserved for misbehaving children—or shinies, as the case may be.

Obi-Wan attempted a reassuring smile only for it to turn into a grimace as the movement pulled at his split lip, renewing its sluggish flow of blood once more. For reasons known only to himself, Alpha-17 had focused rather heavily on causing his face as much damage as possible, rather than seeking to neutralize him efficiently. Of course, Alpha-17 was a bit of a bastard with a vicious streak a parsec wide, so perhaps he’d simply nursed a grudge against Obi-Wan all this time.

Two years and change was a long time to hang onto said grudge, and seemed more than a little extreme, but he supposed anything could happen. Whatever the reason, it made pacifying his commander nearly impossible.

Scoffing, Cody wetted a rag and began furiously cleaning Obi-Wan’s face of… well, gore was perhaps an accurate description. His movements weren’t rough, by any means, but they were perfunctory and Obi-Wan didn’t need to be an empath to feel the low-grade burn of his anger in the tight quarters of the refresher. “Complete fripping moron,” he growled, as more and more damage was revealed beneath the blood.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan began, bracing himself as best he could. He knew that tone of voice well. “There’s no need—”

“How does a Jedi,” Cody cut him off, voice dangerously mild, “cock up so badly that he ends up in a punishment spar with the only Alpha who can nominally stand him?”

“Now that’s hardly fair to Alpha’s age-mates,” he protested weakly as Cody shoved his head and began examining his possibly-broken nose. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting any others from the Alpha class.”

“Seventeen warned them all away. Calls you a menace.”

Cody’s voice was serious—dark, even—but Obi-Wan snorted. “Of course he did,” he said, fond without worry and accepting the notion without doubt. “I do regret the number of grey hairs myself and Anakin have no doubt given him over the course of our acquaintance.”

“The stress doesn’t even have the decency to slow the bastard down,” Cody muttered darkly in reply. “Let alone kill him.”

There was a worrying shift in his ribs as Obi-Wan wheezed but he ignored it because, damn it, the idea of something so mundane as stress being the thing to kill Alpha-17 was unbearably funny at that precise moment. Cody shifted back on his feet and watched him impassively. It took a moment for him to realize that perhaps what he was feeling was what the troopers referred to as punch-drunk.

The corner of Cody’s mouth tugged up. “Yep,” he drawled, “that’s what happens when you let one of the Alpha class get their hands on you like that.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, frowning. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Dear me. I believe I may have a concussion, Cody.”

The commander did not look impressed by his powers of deduction. “I told you that ten minutes ago, General.” He scowled and rinsed off the cloth in his hands before turning to Obi-Wan’s split and battered knuckles. “I peeled you off the mats and you said you were ‘happy to see my pretty, grumpy face’ and I said ‘you definitely have a concussion if you’re admitting I’m pretty in mixed company.’ And then you tripped over your own boots and tried to blame Anakin for it.”

“Mmm.”

“Still with me, sir?”

Obi-Wan hummed again, feeling more and more like he was floating as the adrenaline filtered out of his system and pain filtered in. “Always, my dearest commander. Always.”

He sighed but said nothing again for a while, tisking over the damage Obi-Wan had managed to do to himself without the aid of Alpha-17. “What even happened to your gloves and gauntlets?” he wondered aloud, and scoffed when Obi-Wan cheerfully admitted that he hadn’t a clue. “Still haven’t told me what you did to deserve a punishment spar from an Alpha. Don’t think I’m going to just let that one go.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Obi-Wan enunciated with care. “I simply don’t wish to tell you because then you’ll be disappointed with me.”

“And that’s a valid reason to piss off your marshal commander instead?”

“Oh, not at all! I’m just far better equipped to deal with you being angry with me than disappointed.” A punch-sober Obi-Wan would likely not have admitted that, but the Obi-Wan of the moment was perhaps not as wise as he. All he wanted was Cody’s continuing single-minded care and to all the Corellian hells with his dignity. “You have a remarkable talent for making me feel utterly worthless when I’ve disappointed you.”

The silence that followed that statement went on long enough that Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten it by the time Cody responded. “I don’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said with a gusty sigh. “That’s not what that look is supposed to mean.”

Of that Obi-Wan had always been certain, but disappointment had always been inextricably linked with feelings of personal failure and worthlessness, ever since he was a child. Coruscanti Jedi initiates were a cutthroat bunch to start with and his age-mates in particular had been even moreso than the average.

“It’s all right,” he said absently, when he realized Cody was waiting for a reply. “It pushes me to do more, do better, always has.”

“That’s not very reassuring, jetii,” Cody grumbled, swatting away the hand that attempted to clap him on the shoulder. “Quite the opposite.”

“Oh, I’m a jetii again?” Obi-Wan attempted to rouse himself from his post-beating lethargy. The return to the uncomplimentary epithet that Alpha-17 had passed on to his commander before their meeting boded ill. It’d taken months for Cody to finally wheedle out of him why he always chuckled at its use and several more for him to cautiously switch to the less aggressive Traat’ad. “You only use that when I’ve done something to deserve, well…”

“A punishment spar from Seventeen?” Cody supplied, deceptively innocent. “I can only assume you have, if you’re letting him turn your face into paste like this.”

“I—”

“When I’m disappointed in you, it’s because I know that you’ve made your decisions based on faulty logic and you’re not dumb enough to buy into faulty logic about anyone but yourself,” he continued, unconcerned with Obi-Wan’s attempt to defend himself. “When Alpha-Seventeen is disappointed in you, it’s because he knows you’re not stupid and thinks you’re acting like it anyway. So, what’d you do this time?”

Obi-Wan sighed and let his head fall back against the mirror. “Have you ever been through a ‘punishment spar,’ as you call them?” he asked, feeling very tired.

“Fortunately, I’ve managed to avoid pissing any of the Alpha class off quite that badly.”

He smiled, winced, and soldiered on, as it were. “It’s based on an old Mandalorian ritual: pelir edee. Went through it when I was on Mandalore as a padawan.” Cody hummed, well-aware of its history as well as his own. “Usually it’s because a clan member has lashed out at another, disproportionately so, or deliberately brought harm to the clan.”

“You take a swing at Seventeen?” the commander said, joking, but also curious. “Because if you did then I take back calling you an idiot and will be much nicer at your funeral.”

“It’s also—” Obi-Wan swallowed “—unofficially, you understand, used when a leader ignores the advice of their clan members and so brings harm to them through incompetence.”

Cody doesn’t respond for another long while.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.”

“Our intel was faulty—”

“—and if I had listened to your concerns then we wouldn’t be on this planet you all despise so much, collecting shinies to fill the empty spaces where loved ones once stood.” He had nothing to say to that, knowing full well that Obi-Wan had the right of it. “Alpha got his hands on the mission report that brought us here and asked me to explain what happened. I obliged. And he suggested a spar.”

“With Blitz, Colt, and Havoc.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Naturally. He suggested, as well, that we all armor up for it. Apparently he doesn’t approve of my choice to return to wearing Jedi tunics.”

“None of us approve of that,” Cody muttered. He’d finished cleaning and bandaging Obi-Wan’s hands long ago, now just holding them in a gentle grip. “You don’t listen to us about that, either.”

Well and that was fair.

"Ni ceta, Kote," Obi-Wan said, not meeting his eyes. "I should have listened to your council and now your brothers are marching far away because of my…"

Pride, arrogance, conceit.

"… mistake," Cody finished, quiet, gentle. "It was a mistake. One that cost us, but you're not omniscient, and you did the best you could. That's all any of us can do."

"You knew better."

"Then learn from this time and listen to me the next."

Obi-Wan nodded and allowed himself to be tugged out of the 'fresher and stripped of the death-white armor. Each piece of plastoid was tugged out of magnetic alignment by sure hands and piled out of the way, until nothing remained but his blacks. Those hands then pushed and maneuvered until Obi-Wan was lying on his side in the commander's bed, Cody's chest pressed right up against his back.

The two of them rested like that for a long time, settling together until their hearts beat nearly in sync. Then Cody, his arms wrapped firmly around Obi-Wan's body, clasped their hands together.

"What did Seventeen want you to see, Obi-Wan?"

He linked their fingers together more securely before answering.

"As a Jedi, I have a responsibility to all life in the galaxy. As a general, I have a responsibility to the lives under my command." He took a deep breath. "As a partner, I have a responsibility to treat you with honor and respect. When I ignored your council, I failed in all of those responsibilities, and your brothers paid the price. Alpha-Seventeen wanted me to see those failures and understand that I need to trust you, and the rest of our comrades, in order to keep such a tragedy from occurring again."

"… Sounds quite kind for one of Seventeen's punishment spars."

Obi-Wan smiled as best he could. "Well, I'm sure he'd phrase it differently were someone to ask him. Regardless, I should have done better and will endeavor to do so next time."

"Good," Cody murmured into the back of his neck. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

"And I you, Cody."