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edgeofn1ght · 2 years ago

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The Melody Wakes the Heart

It's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work.

The idea of 'busker Anakin' just kinda got in my head and wouldn't let go, so out popped this thing. Thankfully it also worked to fill another spot on my @obikin-events bingo card: crush

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getting together • obikin • 3.5k words • read on ao3 instead

It was incredibly late. Too late for him to finally be making his way home. He should have left work long ago. And it was certainly too late to hear music winding its way down the alley and around the building. He looked at his watch. It was nearly 11pm.

As he picked up his pace, the clicking of his boot heels against the cobblestones fell into perfect syncopation with the beat of the song.

When he turned the corner, Obi-Wan halted his homeward march. At the end of the alley stood a tall figure dressed in black facing away towards the river. He was singing and strumming his acoustic guitar for an audience of none. Though now it was technically an audience of one.

The man was pouring his heart and soul into a song about love and loss. Not recognizing the tune, Obi-Wan wondered if he wrote it. And was it autobiographical or merely a comment on relationships?

For himself, he didn't care to believe in such things any longer. It was easier to protect your heart by not falling in love.

A giggling couple staggered by and tossed a few coins into a soft guitar case which lay open at the man's feet.

"Ta!" He threw out the reply mid-chorus.

It was long enough to snap Obi-Wan out of his reverie. He dipped into his pocket to scrounge for some change of his own as he decided to continue on. He tossed them in as he passed the man, never stopping, never making eye contact.

"Evening," the guitarist said, now strumming softly. Obi-Wan waved quickly over his shoulder and kept walking.

It was too late. He needed to get home, and he didn't want to start something he couldn't finish.

—-

The next day Obi-Wan managed to get away from work at a most reasonable hour. The man was unfortunately not there.

—--

The following evening was another bloody late night. Absolutely no one should sit at a computer for 10, 12 hours a day, staring at spreadsheets well after the sun went down. His stomach growled, his tea had gone cold and most everyone else had left long ago.

As he left the train station and began his slog home, he heard the guitar again. Was it possible the man only worked late nights?

Obi-Wan slowed his stroll as he got closer. The man was singing softly tonight, something gentle like a lullaby – a surprising change from two nights before.

As he came to the end of the alley, he stopped and leaned against the brick wall to listen. The boy – for he was younger than Obi-Wan previously assumed – was talented, that was for sure.

After a few bars, he turned to look at Obi-Wan and smiled. And what a beautiful smile it was.

"Evening," came the boy's standard greeting.

"Good evening," Obi-Wan replied.

He turned his whole body to look at Obi-Wan as he played, watching him while he finished his song. Even in the low light he could tell he was a handsome sort with dark eyes, full lips, and untamed, dark curls.

To avoid staring, Obi-Wan paid more attention to the way the man's long fingers slid up, down, and across the fretboard with ease. And also how the fingers of his right hand deftly plucked the strings, never missing the mark. Even though he was wearing a glove.

"I don't usually get an audience," he finally added. Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped up to the man's face at the sound of his soft voice. "People pass quickly, always in a hurry."

"A shame then," Obi-Wan replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you're new here. Give them some time to get used to you."

The man smiled to himself as he looked down at his guitar. "I wasn't doing so well on the lower levels. I had to find a new place."

If one was to believe the politicians and the 'elite' of the city's glitzy upper levels, Coruscant's lower levels housed the 'worst of the worst' – the poor, the drug dealers and users, and all types of other unsavories that needed to be kept below the surface.

Well, the income inequality was certainly real. And would explain why this boy was here now where he was more likely to earn a fair amount on his talent from upper Coruscant's denizens and travelers.

He looked down into the open guitar case – he didn't seem to be doing too well here tonight though. Obi-Wan frowned.

When he looked back up, the boy was watching him. It was hard to tell the color of his eyes under the yellowing street lamps, but they pierced him through. Obi-Wan swallowed as he finally stopped playing.

Maybe it was unfair to call him a boy. Closer now and with more time to take in his face, Obi-Wan would put his age somewhere in the mid-20s.

He pulled the guitar up and over his head and laid it down gently in the case. Then he reached into his pocket and brought out a thin silver tin and a lighter.

"Are you already finished?" Obi-Wan asked suddenly. He'd lost track of time, lost track of what he was even doing still standing here. Did he really intend to stay and listen longer?

The man chuckled low under his breath as he put a cigarette between his red lips then flicked the lighter. "For now," he said, as he carefully cupped the flame and lit his cigarette. "Care to join me?" They never lost eye contact as he removed the cigarette and blew the smoke into the air.

He knew he shouldn't but he was tempted. He wanted to.

"Thank you, but I really can't," Obi-Wan said as he pushed himself off the wall. He looked at his watch. "It's later than I thought. I best be going." He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Obi-Wan dug into his pocket once more and pulled out a few bills. Instead of throwing them into the case like usual, he reached out and handed them to the man instead. He took them, wrapping his cold fingers around Obi-Wan’s briefly.

"Thank you," he nodded as he removed the cigarette once more.

Obi-Wan smiled then turned to leave. But he could feel himself hesitating just for a moment. If he didn't leave now, he might not leave at all.

"It's Anakin," the boy called after him. Obi-Wan stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. "My name."

Oh. "Obi-Wan," he replied with a nod.

The boy – Anakin – grinned and put the cigarette back in his mouth and inhaled deeply.

—-

Weeks passed and Obi-Wan was losing track of how much money he'd given Anakin, and with his schedule more normalized, he didn't even see him every day. He guessed whatever Anakin was busking for, Obi-Wan was going to fund it single-handedly.

However, he could count on one hand the number of short conversations they had. The words they exchanged had been few – Obi-Wan didn't want to interrupt the man at work.

When he didn't see Anakin, he couldn't stop thinking about him. Which probably wasn't good. He knew nothing at all about him.

On this morning, Obi-Wan kept his head down, watching his feet as he quickly made his way to his train station. He pulled the lapels of his coat closed around his throat as a stiff gust of wind blew down the walk. He was in a hurry but no one else seemed to be.

As he came to Anakin's alley, he looked up and was surprised to find him there, crouched down as he was packing up. It suddenly struck Obi-Wan that he'd never once seen him in the daylight.

"Anakin!"

He stood and turned quickly, surprised at hearing his name being called. "Obi-Wan!"

His eyes were blue.

His eyes are blue.

"What are –"

"I was just –"

They began at the same time then chuckled nervously.

"Please, you go," Obi-Wan gestured.

Anakin ran a hand through his hair, which shone a dark honey blond in the morning light. He looked very tired and careworn.

"I was just leaving. I'm surprised to see you."

Obi-Wan smiled, "I'm even more surprised. I come by this way every day, but you're only here when I'm off work very late."

"Huh, yeah," Anakin said, looking down and scuffing the toe of his boot against the stones. Obi-Wan watched him as he knelt again to re-situate his guitar in the case. From where he stood, there didn't seem to be much money in there.

He couldn't help himself from getting involved. "Do alright last night and this morning?"

Anakin shrugged as he picked up the case and slung it over one shoulder and across his back. The coins clinked loudly together as they slid to the bottom of the bag. He seemed quiet and off in his own world.

"Are you alright this morning?"

Anakin stopped fidgeting long enough to stare at Obi-Wan, then shrugged again. "Just tired."

He had to go to work. He was going to be very late. He probably would get some kind of reprimand. But he found he didn't really care too much.

"Would you like to go get some coffee?"

Anakin hesitated but Obi-Wan could see him thinking it over.

"My treat," he finally added. Why don't you just ask him on a date, Obi-Wan?

Anakin exhaled, "Okay then."

They walked a few blocks to the coffeeshop Obi-Wan generally visited on his way to the station. He hadn't this morning because he was in a hurry. Interesting now how he had all the time in the world.

The shop was warm and smelled strongly of coffee and some blend of vanilla and hazelnut. They grabbed some menus and made their way to a small table in the corner near the front window. Anakin placed his guitar upright in the corner and sat with his back to the wall. Obi-Wan took his place directly across, as naturally as if they'd done this dozens of times.

"Order whatever you'd like," he said as a waiter made their way to the table for the drink order. "That goes for food, too," he added when the waiter left.

Anakin looked around the shop, taking it all in like he'd never been in before. It seemed hard to believe considering he was always so close by. It gave Obi-Wan a better opportunity to study his face in the daylight.

His eyes were darker blue now than they'd been outside, and a thin scar bisected his right eyebrow, passing the corner of his right eye and ending on his cheek. It did nothing at all to diminish his beauty, quite the opposite. He also had two smaller pale scars on his left jaw. Obi-Wan wondered what he'd been through. His face was also dotted with small moles and freckles, and his lips were full and dark pink.

He was unfairly pretty.

Obi-Wan felt quite out of his element all of the sudden. He would now put his age around 25. Obi-Wan never felt his age, but suddenly he was feeling every single one of his 41 years.

He cleared his throat and looked down to study the menu.

"I've never been here before," Anakin finally said. Obi-Wan was beginning to think he'd be the only one talking this morning.

He looked up and smiled, "The coffee is excellent, the morning buns spectacular."

The corner of Anakin’s mouth turned up in a smirk, "Spectacular, huh?"

"Well if you like sweet buns, I suppose." He was generally a bit more eloquent than this.

He was saved by the return of their waiter with their coffee. They both ordered some food, and Obi-Wan was pleased that Anakin had taken him up on his offer, ordering eggs, bacon, toast, hashbrowns, and even boldly ordering some sweet buns for the two of them.

Then they were alone again.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask Anakin now that he had his undivided attention, but none of them seemed right.

"You don't have to go to work?" Anakin asked, taking a sip of his latte, inhaling the rich aroma of the espresso and hazelnut flavor.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then took out his phone. "I should probably tell them I won't be in, at least not until later." He'd been so taken with Anakin that he even forgot about work. Get yourself together, Obi-Wan.

"You didn't really seem the type," he said.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, "The type? What type is that?"

"You know, the rule abider, the goody two-shoes, the class pet," Anakin smiled and took another sip of his coffee.

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh. Maybe once upon a time. Sure, he appreciated order, but he'd been known to bend a rule here and there. But always to someone's surprise. He guessed he did have a reputation. Maybe Anakin was actually good at reading him. Which was scary.

"Well you seem the complete opposite, if I'm honest," Obi-Wan retorted.

Anakin chuckled, "That's fair. If I'm honest."

"What were you doing out there this morning?" Obi-Wan asked, changing the subject quickly. He was sorry to see Anakin's face fall rapidly.

"Change of audience, hoping to catch people on the way to work." He shifted in his seat. "Late at night, believe it or not, isn't the greatest time to work the alley."

This was unsurprising news. Obi-Wan rarely saw anyone at night when Anakin was out.

"Can you change your time there?" Though some people obviously did come by, it couldn't have been nearly as many as what might come by during the day on their way to work or school or the shops.

Anakin shook his head, "Not generally, no. I do have other obligations." At this his shoulders slumped. Seemingly under the weight of said obligations.

Just then the waiter returned with their breakfasts. Anakin dug in quickly like he hadn't eaten in some time. The thought hadn't previously occurred to Obi-Wan that maybe he hadn't. He wouldn't say anything about it.

"That song you were singing the first night I saw you…" Obi-Wan began as he buttered his toast, hoping Anakin would remember. "Is it yours?"

Anakin took a bite of his own toast and chewed thoughtfully. "Yes." In truth, he was surprised he did remember. But he didn't seem to be otherwise forthcoming with information.

"Well it was moving."

"Thank you," he replied quietly, then drank more coffee.

Several moments ticked by and Obi-Wan thought the conversation was over. He was desperately trying to come up with another topic. It could have been anything – he knew nothing about the young man! But his brain came up empty.

"I had… well, this woman," he began staring down at his own plate with great interest. "My girlf– no, my fiancée, really, well she ended things suddenly. And…well, my emotions had to go somewhere, I guess."

Oh. Well, he certainly didn't need Obi-Wan chasing after him. Anyway…

"You should make a recording, you just need the right people to hear you." Though he was always the highlight of Obi-Wan’s day, Obi-Wan could do nothing for him to advance his career. He'd miss him if he ever quit busking and left the alleyway.

Anakin scoffed, "I'm just out there trying to make a buck. I have no aspirations. I just need to do something to help pay for my mom's medicines. It's a better second job than working with food or in some shop here in the upper levels where I'd have to deal with difficult people all day."

Of all the reasons Anakin could have had for playing, that was not one that Obi-Wan would have come up with. He just stared at Anakin, a fork full of eggs hovering mid-air.

Anakin finally looked up at him. "Oh, that was probably… too much."

"No! No," Obi-Wan started. "Not at all! I didn't mean to pry, of course. But you're welcome to say whatever you feel comfortable sharing."

Anakin looked around the room, down at his plate then back up at Obi-Wan. "And why do you take such an interest?"

Obi-Wan had to resist the urge to laugh out loud. If Anakin only knew… well he'd probably not still be sitting here, for starters.

What could he say? Anakin was talented, there was no doubt about it. But he was also handsome. And Obi-Wan was interested. But he could settle for being a friend. It seemed like Anakin needed that more than anything right now.

He settled for a half-truth.

"You brighten my commute home."

Anakin looked down and if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he was blushing. Obi-Wan didn't need to know that he was the highlight of Anakin's day. The one person who actually looked and truly saw him.

They passed the next several minutes in silence, finishing up their breakfast and coffee.

"You were right about these buns," Anakin said, stuffing the last bit of cinnamon roll into his mouth.

Obi-Wan smiled gently.

They finished up, the check came, and Obi-Wan paid. They gathered their things and stepped back out into the cold.

"I guess I have no more excuses not to go into work," Obi-Wan said, adjusting his scarf. Though he wished he did.

Anakin squinted against the bright morning light. "I suppose not."

"Go home and rest."

Anakin nodded, "I'll try, but no promises." Obi-Wan smiled and turned to leave.

"Obi-Wan!" He loved it when the younger man said his name. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said, then turned to face the rest of his day.

—-

A week passed without a single glimpse of Anakin. It didn't matter what time Obi-Wan went to or from work, he was not there. Had he changed his mind about the alley? Or about entertaining on the street for mere pennies?

Or had he gotten to know Obi-Wan and didn't like whatever he saw?

Or worse still, had something happened to him or his mother?

Obi-Wan would rather that Anakin suddenly hated him before he could deal with the truth of something terrible befalling either of them.

—--

Obi-Wan disembarked the train at 8pm. The car had been wonderfully warm, and for a while he'd forgotten just how cold it was outside. A fat snowflake landed on the end of his nose, melting instantly. Great. The walk home held so much promise now.

He sighed as he adjusted his coat and scarf and hoisted his bag back up on his shoulder. As much as he wished to see Anakin, he hoped that he would not turn the corner and find him standing in the cold with his guitar.

He was thankfully not there.

Obi-Wan would have never been able to explain the way his heart dropped at the site of the empty sidewalk. Who could understand the foolishness of falling in love with someone over a decade younger, who you merely passed on the street on your way home from work? He didn't even know the man's last name, for force's sake.

"Obi-Wan!!"

His traitorous heart skipped several beats as he stopped and slowly turned.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin waved as he ran towards him, his bagged guitar swinging back and forth across his back.

All Obi-Wan could do was stand there and try not to look like an idiot with his mouth hanging open.

Anakin ran right up to him and stopped two feet short, his gloved hand extended. He was breathing heavily and struggling to catch his breath in the thin winter air.

"Anakin." My darling, he wished to say. "What are you doing here? Please tell me you weren't coming to stand out in the snow and play?"

Anakin laughed, still out of breath. Next to his singing, it was the most beautiful sound. "I was hoping to run into you."

That surprised him. His schedule was the most steady of them both. It'd be quite easy for Anakin to wait for him.

"Well, you've run into me," Obi-Wan smiled and spread his arms wide.

"I was coming to play," Anakin said. "It was stupid, I know, but I was. Because it's what I do. I need the money, but I thought…" here he stopped and began to fiddle with the strap that ran diagonal across his torso. "I knew you would chide me though. I wanted you to."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly. What was that supposed to mean?

"Just to hear and see you again."

Obi-Wan knew his mouth was hanging open but at this point, he didn't care. Was Anakin saying what he thought he was saying?

He took a deep breath. It was as good as any admission. And more than Obi-Wan ever dared to hope for himself.

His face slowly split into a grin. "You're right, I would have… chided you, that is. You'll catch your death out here."

Anakin beamed. "You sound like my mom."

Obi-Wan laughed. He was happy to hear she was okay, too.

He slowly extended his own gloved hand towards Anakin and took a leap. "Come home with me instead."

Anakin took his hand then interlaced their fingers as they walked away from the train station towards his home.

So much for protecting his heart.