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aspentreewrites · 6 days ago

Text

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 4

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, fake dating, only one bed, general angst and pining, realising feelings, tending to wounds, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

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A/N: Every like and reblog on my previous chapters have had me absolutely squealing, kicking my feet etc. <3 I recently realised this blog had asks disabled for some reason, so I've rectified that!! I have a oneshot in the works that will probably be posted before chapter 5, so keep an eye out for that, too!

Shout out to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 here) for beta'ing as always!

Wordcount: 7.3k

Prev chapters: 1, 2, 3

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In the half hour or so the two men have spent on the cliffside, the wind has picked up again, and violently. Despite the usually tropical environment of the planet around them, the temperature has been dropping harshly along with the setting of the sun and the encroaching storm.

To say the conditions are miserable would be an understatement.

Obi-Wan and Cody remain unmoving in their positions, only occasionally breaking the silence between them to share quiet murmurings of intel over the howl of the wind.

Staying perfectly still as they have been, has both men growing numb, losing sensation in their legs from remaining knelt for so long.

Neither of them, of course, let it show. They’re professionals, after all.

“The atmosphere is more tense than it was a few seconds ago. Something’s changed,” Obi-Wan says softly, brows pinching together as he concentrates on the minute shifts in the Force around him.

Cody continues to watch the exchange down on the beach with a sharp eye, shifting the scope of the sniper rifle subtly to track Barrek as he paces back and forth. He pauses for a moment to allow Obi-Wan to adjust, the Jedi briefly rolling his shoulder to alleviate some of the discomfort that comes from being used as a living blaster stand.

On the beach, a durasteel briefcase changes hands among the group, eventually ending up in the possession of a relatively short Trandoshan man. He shifts uncomfortably as it’s pressed into his hands, inspecting the locks incredibly carefully, almost as if he doesn’t want to tilt the case too much or subject it to any sudden movements.

It is not, in Cody’s opinion, a particularly good sign.

“He looks scared,” Cody comments.

“He is,” the Jedi confirms. “Why though, I can’t say.”

Cody frowns as he observes just how delicately the Trandoshan is handling the package, his mind working overtime to figure out what could be inside.

“They wouldn’t have put a bomb in there,” he states slowly. It’s a ridiculous suggestion, and yet Cody can’t quite wrap his head around what else would cause such tension in the group below them.

“Certainly not,” Obi-Wan agrees quietly. “But there must be something volatile inside, of that I have no doubt.”

A hush falls over them once more as the group’s discussion continues. Barrek is approached by another individual attending the deal - the Trandoshan’s assistant, they’d pieced together from watching their earlier interactions - who pulls out a small datapad and taps away at it for a moment.

“Credit wiring,” Cody mutters. “Barrek’s part is done, and it looks like the party’s breaking up. All that’s left is for us to intercept.”

Obi-Wan dips his head in acknowledgement, keeping the movement minimal so as to not jostle the rifle too much. “Just… keep an eye on the Trandoshan. I’m sensing there’s– wait.”

Cody draws back from the scope to look at the other man, trying to ascertain what it is that’s caught his attention.

He barely has time to process the way his Jedi’s eyes suddenly snap open, a sharp shout of warning leaving his lips.

In seconds, he finds himself tackled to the ground, the back of his head making contact with a sharp and unfortunately situated rock as Obi-Wan’s body covers his own, pressing him securely into the damp grass.

Cody groans, ears ringing and eyelids fluttering as he tries to make sense of the disorienting shift in perspective. Barely a second later, a blaster shot flies overhead, exactly where the two had been kneeling seconds before.

Cold-bitten hands cup his face, forcing his gaze upwards to Obi-Wan. The Jedi’s eyes are locked on his, wide and urgent as the world spins.

“Commander. We need to move,” Cody hears him say, his voice muffled and distant from the blow to his head.

Obi-Wan’s fingers press a little harder into his cheeks, his jaw tense with worry. “Cody,” he tries again.

Cody blinks hard, shaking his head to dispel the lingering daze. He’s relieved to feel his senses returning to him more and more with each second that passes, though his head still pounds from the impact. He brings up a hand to check the back of his head, relieved to find that he doesn’t seem to be bleeding.

His eyes snap to Obi-Wan’s, the danger of their situation flooding back to him in an instant.

Spying on the meeting. Being shot at. Need to run. Right.

Cody manages a small nod, and Obi-Wan rolls off of him just as another shot rings out overhead.

“Escape routes?” the Jedi asks, the two shuffling a little further down the hillside to slip out of sight of the sniper on the beach. Before Cody can respond, Obi-Wan grimaces, shaking his head. “Nevermind - I can feel that the Trandoshan is retreating with the package. Blast it all.”

“Which way?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing in the way it always does when he’s urgently searching through the Force. “Back down to the resort.”

“Then it looks like we’re following,” Cody murmurs.

They slip a little further down the hillside until they’re sure they can safely stand without taking a blaster shot to the head. Obi-Wan stands first, before turning to pull Cody up with him, holding onto his arm a little longer than strictly necessary.

Cody can see the concern in his eyes, and he wishes that the Jedi would for once understand that they don’t have the time to worry about his health while they’re in such a perilous situation. He can get himself checked over at the medbay when they’re safe. Before then, he is not a priority.

“How’s your head?” Obi-Wan asks, an apology clear in his expression. Cody starts off into the darkness ahead of them, giving the Jedi a quick nod over his shoulder as he does.

“It’s fine,” he insists, sounding more certain of that fact than he actually is. “We need to go.”

Obi-Wan sets off after him with a sigh that carries the weight of all of the previous times they’ve clashed on this very issue.

“You’re going straight to see Helix when we get back to the venator, Cody. No detours,” he says firmly.

“Is that an order, sir?” Cody responds dryly, ducking down to avoid a piece of debris flying his way.

“Undisputably so, Commander.”

Cody can’t help but smile a little at that. Obi-Wan has never much been one for pulling rank, even early on in the battalion’s deployment. The one exception he has always made - will always make, Cody suspects - is when it comes to the safety of his men.

There are many Jedi in the Order who take a blanket ‘mission-first’ approach to jobs, and Cody doesn’t blame them - there is a Galaxy-wide civil war, after all, and calls have to be made. His General, however, is not one of them when he can help it.

The two break into a sprint back towards the resort as the wind whips up around them, both men laser focused on salvaging whatever they can from this mess.

The question remains of how they were even spotted in the first place, how long they’d been noticed for, but that’s a matter for later. First of all, they need to get out of this with their lives intact - and most importantly, intercept the briefcase in the process.

They hear another shot go off in the distance, the ensuing blur of red plasma disappearing off into the darkness to their right. Between the storm-darkened sky and the force of the gale around them, their pursuers are thankfully at a disadvantage. A pleasant rarity for them.

“You always take me to the nicest places,” Cody calls over the howl of the wind to Obi-Wan.

His Jedi barks out a laugh in response, mirth twinkling in his eyes even through the dim light.

“Only the best for you, my dear.”

______________________________

When they make it back to the hotel, Obi-Wan keeps a hand on the small of Cody’s back as he quietly directs the both of them through the winding hallways, trying to keep their steps swift yet not in a way that’s too conspicuous to the guests they’re passing by.

Acting suspiciously when they’re so close to the end of this would be a foolish thing to do. Best to sacrifice some speed for the sake of their cover.

“To our left,” the Jedi informs him softly. “He’s gone back to one of the rooms.”

Cody nods subtly in acknowledgement, smiling politely as they slip through a group of guests mingling in the corridor.

“Well, we’re certainly being led into a trap, then,” Cody mutters through gritted teeth.

“Ever the pessimist.”

“Realist,” he corrects as they turn a corner, speeding up their pace just slightly when they see they’re alone. “And you’re telling me you think I’m wrong?”

Obi-Wan gives him a wry smile. “Of course not. I just like to keep an open mind in the event of a welcome surprise.”

Cody raises a brow. “When do we ever have luck like that, sir?” he asks, dryness bleeding through his tone.

Obi-Wan’s smile turns to a full grin. “Oh, it hasn’t happened yet, dear Commander, but I always hold out hope.”

They push through into the room Obi-Wan’s senses have led them to, the door left ajar by its previous occupant - another tally mark for the ‘definitely a trap’ column.

Cody has his blaster in hand and levelled immediately, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement.

… Movement that doesn’t seem to be happening.

Lowering his pistol, the Commander shares a glance with his General. No one’s here. The room is empty, save for the briefcase they’ve come here for, laid out on the bed like it’s just any other piece of luggage.

Obi-Wan cautiously steps over, slowly picking it up and turning it over in his hands while Cody sweeps the room.

In his periphery, he catches a glance of something red and slick staining the carpet underneath the bed. He frowns, crouching to get a better look.

“Blood,” he says under his breath.

“Or wine,” the Jedi says breezily, still inspecting the case.

“Wine doesn’t have this consistency.”

“Alright,” the Jedi concedes, glancing over to follow Cody’s gaze. “A thick wine, then.”

Cody meets the Jedi’s gaze with a huff, the two breaking out into a smile despite the severity of the situation. He returns his attention under the bed, flicking a switch modded on the end of his blaster to activate a small flashlight.

His light is reflected back to him in the glassy-eyed stare of the Trandoshan from the beach, his features twisted in a permanent expression of fear. They arrived quickly - he must have been killed mere minutes ago.

Cody grimaces, straightening up. “It looks like the trap might not have actually been set for us,” he mutters. “Poor bastard. They must’ve had a traitor amidst–”

Creaking behind him, the door to the fresher swings open.

Before he has a chance to turn, the ever-so-familiar sensation of a cold metal barrel of a blaster presses against the back of his head. Cody sets his jaw.

Obi-Wan, from a few steps away, inclines his head slightly towards their visitor. He looks far from surprised at this development.

He offers them a placid smile, though Cody can tell from the way his breathing has become just a touch more shallow that he’s on full alert, ready to spring into action the second he has the opportunity.

“I wouldn’t recommend that course of action, Lia,” Obi-Wan says, his tone low and calm. “You must know it won’t end well for you.”

“Maybe,” the voice behind Cody confirms - very clearly that of the Togruta they’d met at lunch yesterday. Damn it. How had he not realised…? Of course she was in on the whole thing. More than that, even - it seems she’s actively double crossed the rest of the group. She knows who they are, so she’s likely been watching them since their arrival. “But at least I’d take out a thorn in the Separatists' side while I’m at it.”

The blaster presses more insistently against Cody’s head, exacerbating the throbbing pain that remains from earlier. It seems to be slowly getting worse, but perhaps that’s just the stress of the moment.

Biting down a wince, the Commander remains still, eyes locked on his Jedi as the other man negotiates for his life.

“And risk compromising the package in the process, after you’ve gone to so much trouble to ensure you’re the one to leave with it?” Obi-Wan gestures to the briefcase in his hand. “I must warn you that if my compatriot is harmed, I would have no qualms with crushing the contents of this, whatever it may be.”

Cody could spin around, attempt to disarm Lia, but such an action would carry a high risk - too high of a risk for such a small space. Undoubtedly, she’d squeeze the trigger at the first sign of movement, and a stray shot would go off. Even if he were to avoid getting hit in that scenario, the noise would attract the attention of every single member of security personnel in the hotel.

While they could definitely deal with that outcome if it arose, it would be far more preferable to sort this out quietly.

It might seem strange to one less used to high-stress missions, but Cody doesn’t feel particularly afraid, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’s scraped through worse odds. He will again.

If anything, he feels calm, centred, watching as Obi-Wan drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the briefcase - a restless tic to anyone else’s eyes, but Cody knows better. His gaze tracks as the Jedi surreptitiously taps out a code against the metal, ‘NOT YET’. He meets Obi-Wan’s gaze as it lands on him, blinking hard to show he’s understood.

“And how, exactly, would you even get access to the inside?” Cody hears Lia sneer behind him. “It’s durasteel, and locked with three separate–”

“You forget,” Obi-Wan interrupts coolly, “that I am a Jedi. I could reach in with the Force and simply destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to get.”

Decidedly not an application of the Force, Cody knows, at least not without spending a lot of time meditating on the case and its contents, but Lia doesn’t need to know that.

The lie seems, thankfully, to give her pause.

“... Fine. Hand it over, then, and you’ll get him back” she orders, her tone sharp with tension. Obi-Wan’s eyes flick briefly to the blaster behind Cody - decidedly not a good sign. Cody hopes she isn’t reflexively tensing her finger around the trigger, but with how agitated she sounds, it’s likely.

She can’t be that experienced if her trigger discipline is this sloppy, but unfortunately for Cody, this just puts him at more risk. He can practically feel the danger levels in the room rising with every second that ticks by.

“You’re stressed,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his gaze turning to Lia. His expression remains stoic, even as his fingers tap once again against the briefcase - ‘GET READY’. Cody flexes his hand at his side, waiting for the signal.

“Stressed?” Lia barks out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, I’d say this is pretty high stakes for all of us. Hand. Over. The case,” she repeats in a low growl.

Obi-Wan tilts his head, observing her for a moment, calculating. He doesn’t make a move to step closer, or to start bringing over the briefcase. “It’s because of Barrek,” he states softly, watching her reaction to his words. “Isn’t it?”

Cody understands the game. He’s attempting to distract her, to throw her off-balance so that they can make their move. He only wishes that Obi-Wan wouldn’t choose topics that have the woman behind him pressing the gun even harder against his head.

“What?” she hisses, voice low and dangerous.

Cody barely breathes as Obi-Wan continues to observe her, the Jedi narrowing his eyes slightly. “Yes,” he murmurs, “you’ve done something, haven’t you? Something you can’t take back.” His expression softens to something akin to sympathy, attempting to provoke a reaction. “Oh, Lia.”

Lia stammers, but before she has a chance to properly respond, Obi-Wan taps out the final instruction - ‘NOW’.

Cody ducks down quickly, twisting around as Obi-Wan uses the Force to send her blaster flying out of her grasp. She yelps in surprise, and the Commander swiftly drives his elbow into the side of her head, knocking her out cleanly as the blaster clatters to the ground.

It’s quiet for a moment, as they wait to see if she’s truly unconscious.

When it’s clear that they’re out of danger, at least for the moment, Obi-Wan huffs out a breath, brushing down his robes. “Well, that was sufficiently exciting, but I rather think we shouldn’t stick around. If they’ve all double crossed one another then we have approximately five other buyers on their way to try and claim this. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Cody glances to the prone form of Lia, now crumpled in a heap between them. It’s almost a pitiful sight. “Shouldn’t we arrest her?” he suggests, his hand coming up to gently rub at the back of his head. The strange ache persists, despite the lack of pressure there now.

The Jedi performs a quick, final sweep of the room, shaking his head decisively. “No,” he says firmly, carefully picking up the briefcase. “We’re in neutral space, and she’s not a threat without that blaster. I’ll make a report, and the security stationed here can clean up once we’re safely away with the case - that is our priority.”

He makes his way over to Cody, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a concerned once-over. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft with the worry he’s no longer trying to conceal.

The Commander forces on a smile through the pain. “Never better.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t look particularly convinced, but regardless, they don’t have time to focus on that right now. He squeezes Cody’s shoulder before dropping it, gesturing for them to start moving.

“What was that about Barrek?” Cody asks him quietly as they slip out to the corridors once more, knowing it’s not quite safe yet to start running.

He glances at Obi-Wan as the Jedi sighs, running a hand over his beard. “I was trying to sense him throughout the altercation. I assumed he’d have been nearby, that he and Lia were betraying the rest of the buyers together.”

They pause for a moment, stepping aside to let a cleaner move past with a trolley. “They weren’t?” Cody murmurs, raising a questioning brow.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I could only sense the echoes of him. She killed him first.”

Cody blinks. “Oh.”

A silence stretches between them as they make it through to the foyer, trying to keep a low profile among the few guests awake at this hour. Obi-Wan passes Cody the briefcase as he saunters over to drop their keys off at the reception desk, sparing a few words of thanks to the staff.

Cody sees Obi-Wan suddenly tense, and moments later, one of the men involved in the deal on the beach steps in from the pouring rain outside, shaking out an umbrella. Cody swallows, shrinking behind two nearby drunk guests engaged in an animated conversation surreptitiously holding the briefcase behind him to keep it out of sight.

He barely dares to breathe as the man walks by, entirely oblivious to the two of them. Obi-Wan meets Cody’s gaze and nods for them to keep moving.

As soon as they’re outside and away from the harsh lights of the entrance, they begin to run.

Obi-Wan stays a few steps ahead as Cody covers his rear, keeping the case tucked securely under his arm and trying to keep an eye out for anyone who might be trying to intercept them - they’re so close now, but if Lia knew of their existence, then any of the others might, as well.

Thankfully, it looks like they’re in the clear, even if they do draw a few stares from the handful of resort guests who are still out in such conditions.

Cody’s feet pound beneath him, each step making his brain feel like it’s rattling in his skull, the splitting headache from earlier deciding to make itself as painfully known as possible.

Stars, he can’t wait to sleep this off.

Through some miracle of the Force, they make it to the docks without interruption, Cody rushing up the ramp of the ship just as Obi-Wan makes it to the pilot’s seat, powering up the engine and punching in the coordinates to Coruscant with a practiced swiftness.

As soon as the ship begins to whir to life, they both let out a breath of relief.

Cody stands, as steadily as he can, as the door closes behind him. The world seems to be swaying almost dangerously about him as the ship takes off, retreating to the safe confines of the stars above.

That’s strange, he thinks faintly - Obi-Wan’s piloting isn’t usually this erratic.

Cody stumbles slightly, careful to keep as strong of a grip as he can on the briefcase to stop himself from dropping it - a task that’s harder than it should be, given the circumstances.

From his position in the pilot’s seat, Obi-Wan’s head suddenly whips around, his face pale. Cody watches as his mouth moves, but he can’t quite parse the muffled sounds that come out of it.

He looks… alarmed, Cody belatedly realises. Trying to get his thoughts together is starting to feel like wading through molasses.

He tries to speak as the Jedi begins to rush over, but it’s a losing battle, hearing himself just let out a garbled string of noises. Logically, he knows that something is wrong with him, but he doesn’t quite have the brainpower to figure out what in the Galaxy it could be.

As soon as Obi-Wan is close enough, Cody instinctively shoves the briefcase into his arms for safekeeping, before he pitches forwards, only half-consciously registering the way his body comes to an unnatural stop in the air before actually hitting the ground, gently lowering the rest of the way.

The metal is cool beneath his cheek.

As his mind slips into nothingness, Cody’s last thoughts are of the gentle hands carefully manoeuvring him onto his side, and of the splitting pain radiating from the back of his skull.

When the darkness finally overwhelms him, it’s more of a relief than anything.

______________________________

Cody blinks at the offered weapon in front of him, not entirely comprehending what it is he’s being asked to do.

“I… are you sure? General, I’m fine with my blaster, I really am.”

Obi-Wan’s expression remains the same - almost unnerving in how unreadable it is.

There’s an irony to be had in the fact that Cody can tell so much from how hard the other man is trying to hide.

Late afternoon has come and gone within the training room in the Jedi Temple, the two men considerably dishevelled and covered in a sheen of sweat after an hour of sparring already. Despite this, it doesn’t seem to have been enough for Obi-Wan today. It’s unlike him; the seasoned Jedi Master usually prefers short, intensive bouts of practice with Cody over longer, more sustained sessions.

Outside, the clouds have gathered close, casting the room in that familiar dim, grey light that’s emblematic of the grim Coruscant winters.

“It’s necessary,” the Jedi insists, his eyes never once leaving the Commander’s. He frowns slightly, the motion breaking the mold of perfect stoicism he had been maintaining up until now. “Just take it, please, Cody. We have much to go over in little time.”

With a sigh, Cody finally concedes, reaching out to gingerly take the lightsaber that’s being offered to him. He rolls it in his palm, feeling the familiar weight of the hilt as he glances down at it cautiously.

He’s held the weapon countless times before; sheathed it at his hip even more frequently. But using it like this? It feels… sacrilegious, somehow.

Obi-Wan nods in approval as Cody’s fingers close around the cold metal.

“Very good. Right,” the Jedi says, his ‘mentor voice’ in full effect as he strides with a purpose across the room. He rummages around in a trunk full of resources for training Padawans - stun blasters and remotes for the training droids, mostly. Eventually, he pulls out two training lightsabers, activating the both of them with a scrutinising once-over.

“These will have to do. Now, Cody,” Obi-Wan begins, gesturing to the other man. “Crouch slightly, like this,” he demonstrates. “No - more weight on your back foot - good. Bring my lightsaber over your head, like so, and point your other arm forwards.”

Cody does as he’s asked, feeling more than a little foolish.

Fancy flourishes and footwork are a Jedi’s speciality, not his. For himself, Cody feels much more at home with a less aesthetically pleasing take on warfare. Blasters may be simple, but they’re also straight to the point - no need for posturing and intimidation if you’re going to just shoot someone in the head and be done with it.

Still, he tries.

“And… now activate it,” comes the next instruction, spoken a little more softly than the last.

After only a moment of hesitation, Cody presses his thumb into the activator.

The familiar light blue glow that emanates from the blade is oddly comforting to the clone, and hearing the low buzz of the energy above him feels like a strange, forbidden thrill.

He’s never seen anyone else fight with his Jetii’s personal weapon before, barring one time when Obi-Wan had fallen unconscious in the field and Anakin had grabbed it to dual wield with over his fallen body - even then there had been a moment of respectful hesitation.

Judging by the way Obi-Wan swallowed and cleared his throat when the weapon was activated, Cody suspects he might be one of very few to ever be granted the honour. He doesn’t quite understand all the intricacies of lightsaber etiquette, but he knows it’s a sacred thing to be involved with.

“This is… your way of doing it, sir?” he asks tentatively, trying to remain still and steady as the Jedi appraises his form. He offers what he hopes is a reassuring expression of sincerity, hoping to convince Obi-Wan that he understands - to an extent, at least - the trust that is being placed in him here.

“Yes, Form III, Soresu,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his tone quiet and more than a little distracted - he’s been lost in thought all afternoon, and Cody can’t ascertain why. It disquiets him.

Obi-Wan is often a very quiet, internal person, but he usually doesn’t let stress affect him to any visible degree. He must be particularly off-kilter today.

“We’ll go over a few of the basic movements, and then we can move on to an actual drill,” Obi-Wan adds, rolling his shoulders as they stand across from one another. “Clear?”

The next half an hour is spent with Cody repeating Obi-Wan’s slow, deliberate, defensive manoeuvres, he and the Jedi walking through an unhurried version of a duel, their movements large and exaggerated to teach him the steps. It feels more like a dance than anything else, entirely the opposite of everything the clone is used to.

Occasionally, Obi-Wan corrects his form by stepping over and gently repositioning his arm or moving behind him to adjust his shoulders - always with permission. Each time, Cody feels his heart rate quicken, though he tries not to think about it too much. This is not the time nor the place.

When the time then comes for the real spar, Cody watches warily as Obi-Wan joins the ends of the hilts of the training ‘sabers together, activating them into one double-sided blade, the handle in the middle.

A shadow passes over the Jedi’s face as he looks down at his own creation, but it’s schooled back into neutrality in seconds. Cody feels a sense of unease pass through him. He doesn’t like that expression.

“I’m… I’m not certain this is truly necessary,” he murmurs softly, wanting to give the Jedi an out from whatever it is about this that’s causing him distress. Obi-Wan’s gaze snaps up to meet his.

“‘Not necessary’?” he repeats, shaking his head in disbelief. “ Commander, you cannot defend yourself from an attacker with a lightsaber using your blaster, no matter how skilled you are. Blade up.”

Cody assumes the starting stance he’d been taught as Obi-Wan closes the gap between them swiftly, beginning to swing the dual lightsaber in earnest. Cody backs up, trying to put some distance between them with every successful block. He feels clumsy, awkward, and he hates it.

“I didn’t even have my blaster out when I jumped Greivous,” he reminds the Jedi, trying to keep his footing as the other man refuses to give an inch. Something in him doubts that he’d train Padawans this way, seeing that he’s barely getting a chance to put his earlier training into practice.

The memory in question, that usually never fails to make Obi-Wan smile or at least shake his head in exasperated amusement, serves to do nothing in the present moment but darken his expression.

“Yes, but that was Greivous, Cody,” he insists with a frown. “Not–” he stops himself short, letting out an uncharacteristic noise of frustration. “Arms higher, your left side is open,” he corrects in a snap.

Cody knows that Obi-Wan’s clipped tone isn’t meant for him, but he can’t help the way he tenses slightly in response.

“Obi-Wan,” he starts, grunting as he deflects another powerful blow, attempting to redirect it to the side. “Not who?”

The Jedi doesn’t respond, and Cody frowns, worry clawing at his insides. Something is very wrong here, and he’s entirely in the dark.

“If you’re defending yourself from Niman, Commander, you cannot rest,” Obi-Wan simply says through gritted teeth, ignoring the question. “One momentary slip of focus can be the difference between life and death.”

The unmistakable sound of lightsaber clashing against lightsaber fills the small training room, Cody doing his utmost best to keep up with Obi-Wan’s relentless attacks - and if the General’s frustrated expression is anything to go by, he’s not doing a good job.

He manages to get a few dirty hits in, taking advantage of the moments Obi-Wan expects a lightsaber swing to get a kick or two in instead. Usually, his creative thinking would earn him praise or at least an approving nod, but today it just seems to put the other man further on edge.

A few more minutes of duelling, of Cody desperately trying to keep up, and the Commander has made up his mind. The next time the Jedi approaches to strike, Cody deactivates the lightsaber in his hand, standing perfectly still.

The blade comes right up to Cody’s neck and Obi-Wan freezes inches away from him, his hair dishevelled and breath coming out in heavy pants.

Cody tilts his chin upwards slightly, incredibly conscious of the weapon that's humming centimetres away, yet knowing implicitly that he will not be harmed. They hold each other’s gaze for what feels like an eternity, neither quite able to muster the ability to speak.

The clouds outside have coalesced, drowning the room in a darker hue. The threat of the inevitable break of thunder hangs over the Coruscant surface, the planet itself holding its breath along with it.

“I don’t know what it is that’s going on,” Cody eventually murmurs slowly, choosing each word carefully. He almost feels as if he’s trying to soothe a wild animal, with the wide, tense look in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “But you need to snap out of this, Obi-Wan. Now.”

A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine speaking to his superior in this way, let alone with a lightsaber at his throat, sharing a single breath between them.

The seconds pass, fraught with tension as neither man dares to even blink.

And then, all at once, the facade of General Kenobi fades away, and the Obi-Wan that’s left behind crumbles.

The training lightsabers deactivate as he sinks to the floor, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Cody,” the Jedi murmurs, the sound pitiful and broken. “I’m so sorry.”

Cody has never been the best at dealing with emotions, and he finds every word on his tongue dies at the sight in front of him. He crouches beside Obi-Wan, placing a hesitant yet supportive hand on his shoulder as his heart twists. He wants to ask what’s wrong, to offer support, but he doesn’t quite know how. So, he does the one thing he knows he can do.

He stays.

For minutes, the Jedi keeps his head bowed, staring at the floor with a distant expression. When the trembling that has beset his frame finally eases, he’s able to speak again.

“You do not deserve to be treated so callously. Forgive me, my friend. I have had… a lot on my mind.” His voice is low, ragged with exhaustion.

Cody waits for the other man to continue, watching as he runs a hand across his face and lets out a long, slow exhale.

“I… found out yesterday that an old adversary has… reappeared from the dead, it seems.” Obi-Wan says quietly, gathering himself as much as he can muster and finally meeting Cody’s gaze with a weary smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“He took the life of someone very close to me, a long time ago. And now he has returned, I…”

Cody swallows, hearing the words that have gone unsaid. A heaviness has settled itself over the Jedi, a weight he doesn’t usually let through - at least, not in Cody’s experience.

“... You’re worried someone else is going to get hurt,” he finishes for him, his voice as soft as he dare make it. Obi-Wan frowns, his attention turned to the endless sea of grey outside of the window.

“A Jedi should not be fearful,” he replies.

“That’s not a denial,” Cody points out.

Obi-Wan gives his Commander a rueful smile. “No. I suppose it isn’t.” His expression turns more serious, and he raises a hand to cover Cody’s hand at his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Both of their palms are sweaty, but neither of them care in the moment. “Cody, I…”

Cody remains patient as Obi-Wan struggles to find his next words.

“Maul is… a very dangerous man,” he begins slowly, “with a personal vendetta against me. And I wouldn’t put it past him to…” he searches the other man’s gaze. “... attempt to cause you harm. In fact, I’m almost certain he will.”

Cody blinks at that statement, said with such conviction, and yet he is unable to fathom any reason why that would be the case. He’s well regarded within the GAR, but he’s not important enough to be a target - not like that, anyhow.

“Why?” he asks quietly. Something sad flickers across Obi-Wan’s features, before he slowly pulls back, standing and smoothing down his robes.

“The whims of the Sith are a mystery to us all, my friend,” the Jedi answers flatly.

Cody’s brow furrows slightly as he stands too, certain that that isn’t the full answer.

He knows better than to push. Obi-Wan has an irritating way of only half answering questions when he wishes to, and Cody won’t begrudge him some privacy after such a vulnerable moment. Still, it concerns him. He can always try and ask again later.

“And you were right, earlier, of course,” the Jedi adds, his usual veneer of calm returned to him, settling over his frame as naturally as breathing. “All of this was entirely unnecessary. You are exceedingly proficient in all manner of fighting, and have put up strong matches against lightsaber-wielders before, even at a disadvantage.”

He dips his head towards Cody, his expression regretful. “My deepest apologies, Cody.”

Cody feels some of the tension in his body ease at the return to normality between them. He chuckles quietly, removing the lightsaber he had stashed at his hip.

“I understand, Obi-Wan. Besides, with how often I end up with this old thing, it was a pleasure to actually get to use it for once.” He holds out the lightsaber hilt to the Jedi, a small grin pulling at his lips. He tries to inject as much dry humour as he can into his words, wanting nothing more than to put the other man at ease again. “But if it’s all the same to you, sir, I’ll leave the fancy twirling to you. I never much was one for acrobatics.”

Before Obi-Wan can take his lightsaber back, a Jedi that Cody doesn’t recognise opens the door to the room. They quickly duck back out and apologise profusely for not having known the room was occupied.

In the moments before they disappear, however, Cody catches the way they hesitate, their eyes lingering on the lightsaber he’s holding out.

Their glance drifts from his hand on the saber, to Obi-Wan, then back to him with something altogether uncomfortably knowing in their gaze.

They slip away, and before Cody has the time to ask what that was all about, Obi-Wan is hastily gathering their things together and ushering the two of them away, back to the barracks.

Cody thinks about that strange look a lot over the coming weeks, as well as what Obi-Wan could have meant by his words about him being in danger from this newly resurrected Sith, but he never can seem to settle on an answer as to what either of them meant.

It is best, he ultimately decides, to put it out of his mind.

_____________________________

The first thing that comes to his mind as Cody wakes is the sound of the ship beneath him, the unmistakable soft hum of the engines as they navigate through space.

He feels a pleasant warmth shift over his forehead, migrating up to his scalp, and Cody’s eyes slowly, slowly flutter open.

It takes a moment for him to get his bearings, which is admittedly not helped by a large shadow that’s been cast across most of his vision.

He’s laid out on the floor of the ship, he realises, his head comfortably propped up on something warm and slightly scratchy as he lazily blinks. Overhead, the shadow swims into focus, forming into the shape of Obi-Wan. The Jedi is leaning over him with his eyes closed, in a state of deep focus. He hums as Cody shifts his head, trying to move but finding himself unable to for the moment.

“Hold still for just a moment longer, Cody,” he requests in a soft murmur. “I’m nearly done.”

It dawns on Cody that his head is, in fact, situated on the Jedi’s lap, the other man’s hands resting atop his head as he channels the Force into him.

Usually, this information would have been cause for alarm, but given the way the intense pain of his head has subsided to something altogether more gentle in response to the healing he must be receiving, the Commander tentatively allows his body to relax.

Cody watches Obi-Wan for a long moment as he works, quietly admiring the expression of peace on his face that he always has when in harmony with the Force, the small details that dot across his skin, the length of his eyelashes.

Strangely, despite the anguish of this morning’s realisation, Cody feels a quiet sense of calm fill him, too, a certainty that he had lacked before. He smiles to himself.

He’s in love with the man leaning over him. It’s not something that can be acted on or returned, but perhaps that’s alright. He can live with that, treat it as he would any other immutable fact of his life. It feels almost… refreshing, to not be lying to himself anymore.

After a few more moments of peace, Obi-Wan opens his eyes, peering down at Cody with his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I’m not the most proficient at healing I’m afraid, but I did what I could. You must have been concussed from the hit earlier.” He winces, his expression turning apologetic. “I’m sorry. I sensed the rock, but didn’t have time to divert you.”

His touch lingers on Cody’s scalp, his fingers unconsciously tangling gently in the longer-than-usual hair there. It’s a pleasant sensation, and Cody has to fight from leaning into the caress as a shiver runs down his spine.

He manages what he hopes is a non-shaky smile to the Jedi above him, raising a brow. “To be quite honest, I’d rather have a concussion than no head left to be concussed in the first place.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at that, a gentle mirth lighting up his features.

In a move that Cody has to remind himself is likely just absent-minded and meaningless, the Jedi slowly swipes his thumb over his forehead to brush away a stray curl of hair.

“I suppose you are correct there, my friend.” Obi-Wan murmurs fondly.

Cody’s heart gives a traitorous little flutter at the intimacy of the moment, and for a few precious seconds, the two just watch each other.

“Do you feel able to move?” the Jedi asks, eyes scanning Cody’s face, probably searching for any lingering pain or discomfort.

Cody nods, though he’s a little regretful to break the tranquil bubble of the moment. Slowly, he pulls himself into a sitting position, the dull ache of his head protesting at the movement, though it’s considerably muted now.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than intended.

“Of course,” comes the equally hushed reply.

Obi-Wan glances to the ship’s console across from them. “We’ll be back at the Temple soon. And then you can rest properly.”

Cody shuffles to sit against the wall of the ship, his eyes settling on the briefcase nearby. It’s been neatly stacked atop some datapads nearby, and the locks seem to have been sliced open with a lightsaber.

“What was in it?” he asks, glancing back to the Jedi curiously. Obi-Wan runs a hand over his beard absent-mindedly.

“Test tubes filled with an unknown substance. If I had to guess, a bioweapon of some kind, potentially one that could release a cloud of gas.”

Cody hums at that, stifling a yawn. It had been a long day, and it’ll be even longer by the time they’ve turned in all of their reports to the Council tonight.

“Makes sense as to why they’d have been nervous to jostle it, then,” he comments.

“Indeed.” Obi-Wan watches his Commander for a long moment, his expression softening. “You should take the night off. I can get the reports turned in myself, Cody.”

Cody would usually scoff at the idea, but right now the idea of rest sounds incredibly tempting - his body is practically screaming for it after the exhaustion of losing consciousness and the subsequent healing.

He evidently must not respond fast enough to dissuade Obi-Wan from the idea, as the Jedi breaks out into a gently amused smile.

“Good. I much prefer it when you don’t argue,” he jokes, and Cody can’t help but roll his eyes. “I’ll inform Helix to expect you when we land.”

Cody nods, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ as they slip into a companionable silence. The ship continues to drift through space as Cody feels his eyes droop, heavy and unrelenting in their quest to pull him to sleep.

A sudden thought occurs to him when they’re only five minutes out from Coruscant, the realisation causing him to groan softly in frustration. Obi-Wan looks over to him, a question in his gaze.

“... We forgot our suitcases at the hotel,” he grumbles.

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise, glancing around them to confirm the statement. In a rare moment of genuine irritation that’s not directed towards Anakin, he drops his face into his hands.

“Blast.”

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: First arc down, but so much still to happen! Thank you all for reading so far. I hope you enjoy what's coming next :)

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

#codywan #aspentreewrites #star wars fanfiction #tcw #cody x obi wan #commander cody #my fics #commander cody x obi wan #star wars #fanfiction #flowers & cannons #obi-wan kenobi x commander cody

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aspentreewrites · 1 month ago

Text

and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot

Chapter 3

Pairings: Codywan

Tags/Warnings: (for current arc) slow burn, fake dating, only one bed, general angst and pining, realising feelings, Cody is having a breakdown, AO3 rating is E for future chapters

Link to read on AO3 here!

Description:

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)

✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: Oh, Cody, we're really in it now. Happy holidays! It's been a tough end to the year, but everyone who's been so kind and left such lovely comments on here and on my AO3 have really been keeping me going :') thank you so much for reading so far!

As always, thank you so much to @whenyourfavouritedies (their AO3 link here) for beta reading!

Wordcount: 8.9k

Prev chapters: 1, 2

✷✷✷✷✷

The General and the Commander get a good deal of work done together that evening.

Their first order of business is checking in with Gregor about the state of the files they’d sent across - it seems they’re encoded, which isn’t much of a surprise, and will take a little while to fully decipher. A few select members of the 212th who can be trusted to keep quiet are already on it, and expect to have it cracked within the week.

Next comes the important affair of discussing the follow-up steps of the mission, particularly how they’re going to proceed with information gathering after facing Barrek directly, in a… less than subtle encounter. They aren’t able to come to a definite conclusion this evening.

Finally, they once more go over their guesses on what the deal they’re here to disrupt is actually likely to be. Knowing that it’ll be weapons related helps narrow it down, but not by much.

They trade dry comments about the state of things, about how much they’re already looking forward to getting back to normality once this is over. Obi-Wan makes a few comments about the state of the room’s provided caf machine - though he’s quick to mention that it’s still above the standard of some of the GAR-supplied requisitions.

The one thing they don’t speak of, is the kiss.

A few times throughout the night the odd, thick tension rears its head. Cody catches the Jedi’s eyes lingering on him with a strange expression more than once, always glancing away when their gazes meet.

Each time, it makes Cody wince. White, hot shame crawls across his skin before he has the time to shove it down, prickling beneath his collar. Cody knows - Force, how he knows - that Obi-Wan sensed more than he should have, earlier. To call it ‘mortifying’ would be an understatement.

It’ll pass, he tells himself. A lapse of judgement and concentration that he can make up for by performing professionally and exceptionally in the field, as often as he can from this point onwards.

With any luck, his General will have pity on him and forget about the whole thing.

Rather robotically, Cody finds himself getting ready for bed that night. He goes through the motions of getting changed, all the while trying very, very hard to not think back to the feeling of Obi-Wan’s mouth on his.

Stars above, he’s never been kissed so carefully, so gently.

Because it wasn’t real, the voice in his head reminds him, sounding particularly bitter. Because it was a strictly professional necessity.

The thought makes his stomach twist, his heart aching with a longing that he knows, intrinsically, will be incredibly tricky to sate. It’s one thing to have feelings for someone, knowing they can never be acted upon… it’s another thing entirely to experience a taste of what could be, if only everything were different.

If not for the fact that Cody is certain that it’s unrequited, if not for the war…

Cody can’t help but let out a heavy sigh. If not for the war, he wouldn’t exist at all. The reminder is a lead weight upon his soul, albeit an old and familiar one.

He’s a man whose hands were engineered to be bloody, he’s come to be at peace with that.

Despite it all, sometimes he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be nat-born. To exist for the sole purpose of living, not for taking life.

To be someone that could be allowed to love, and be loved in return.

Perhaps that version of Cody, unburdened by the war and the weight of expectation, would have the courage to go after the things he wants.

To tell Obi-Wan how he feels…

Cody wrinkles his nose. He’s being far too sentimental and dramatic over something that doesn’t need to be such a big deal. They’re just… feelings. He can live with that.

The two men settle in to attempt sleep that night, firmly keeping to their opposite sides of the bed. An unspoken rift of tension has opened up between them, and Cody doesn’t quite know where to start in broaching it.

Perhaps the morning will bring clarity. It usually does.

With a deep exhale, the Commander closes his eyes, willing himself to shut off his mind and rest.

The moons have risen high enough in the sky by now that their light permeates gently through the thin curtains of the hotel room, creating a uniquely soothing atmosphere.

Cody, like most of the vode, is far more used to the artificial darkness of a sleeping pod than natural moonlight. Some of his brothers struggle to relax under the light of the real stars, finding it far too bright, but never him. In his mind, no fluorescent recreation is ever a substitute for the real thing.

He focuses on that light, on the repetitious sound of waves lapping at the shore outside, and allows himself to let go, as much as he is able.

When the morning comes, Cody isn’t afforded the luxury of a gentle awakening.

Rather, the sound of a scream startles him into consciousness. His hand moves without deliberate input, closing around the blaster on his nightstand even before his eyes have fully opened. When they do, his gaze is sharp, deadly - a trained killer, alert and hunting for the enemy.

… The enemy that appears to be a distressed child outside who’d dropped their ice cream.

With a slow exhale, Cody’s grip on the pistol loosens, setting it back down as his shoulders slump, just a little.

He glances around the room as his heart rate calms, his eyes settling on the source of the sound - the open balcony door, much wider than they’d left it last night. That’s odd.

His gaze automatically shifts to Obi-Wan in concern - or, rather, where Obi-Wan should be. Instead, he finds himself staring at an empty side of the bed.

The Jedi being up before him explains the balcony being open at least, though Cody can’t deny that the smallest flicker of disappointment that wells up within him at the sight.

He tamps it down swiftly.

Cody has kicked himself into his normal alertness, showered and dressed for the day by the time the Obi-Wan returns. The other man is as calm and steady as he always seems to be, balancing two bowls in the crook of one arm and two mugs of caf in another as he steps through the threshold of their room.

For the briefest of moments, Cody stills, quietly remembering that he doesn’t quite know how to approach today.

And then Obi-Wan turns to face the door behind him with a scrunched brow, and any hesitation in Cody is immediately overridden by the sight of his general in need of rescue.

“Had a trip to find breakfast?” he finds the words to ask, heading over to offer aid for the precarious crockery situation. Obi-Wan hums appreciatively in response, gratefully allowing the other man to take a bowl and both mugs from him, slipping the door closed with his now-free hand.

“Thank you. Yes, I bought some fruit from the kitchens downstairs. They were supposed to be complementary, apparently, but they still somehow weaseled some credits from me. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Ah, so they’re pretending that nothing happened last night. Cody finds himself considerably relieved - he can work with that.

“Beats ration bars,” he returns with a shrug, eyeing the offerings with cautious interest. Even if the rest of the food here was definitely over-complicated and over-priced, they surely couldn’t go too wrong with preparing fruit. He sets the mugs on the sideboard to better investigate.

“... How did they get you to give them money?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “The staff said it was a ‘charitable donation’.”

Cody can’t help the way his mouth twitches into a smirk..

“Uh-huh.”

“... To go towards their Life Day bonuses.”

“There it is.”

Obi-Wan frowns, looking defensive even as he pops a grape into his mouth.

“If they say it’s for charity, I can’t very well go ignoring their request,” he protests, waving a hand in front of him as if to illustrate his point. “And they’re likely being underpaid anyway, so it’s simply good manners–”

Cody snickers, shaking his head and giving his Jedi a fond grin. “Mm, no, absolutely,” he agrees, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Which reminds me, sir, I have a bridge to sell you on Corellia, actually–”

Obi-Wan does his best to not look impressed, though his eyes betray him as they always do, lighting up in mirth. “Oh, hush, you.”

Cody can’t hide his amusement, even as he attempts an imploring expression. “It really is a fantastic piece of architecture, though. And at such a reasonable price…”

He trails off as he sees the fond exasperation painting Obi-Wan’s features. It’s one of the other man’s signature countenances, and one he’s been on the receiving end of many times over the years. He doubts he’ll ever get sick of it.

“So,” the Jedi starts pointedly, steering the conversation to more practical topics. “The finalised agenda for today.”

Cody nods, taking a bite of a piece of fruit as his expression turns more serious. It’s one he’d seen growing on the native trees here during his excursions through the grounds yesterday - bright pink and not dissimilar to an apple, but decidedly more sour. He thinks he likes it.

“Right. We’re hoping to intercept Barrek at 1030 hours,” he recites easily, shrugging slightly at the Jedi’s request to go over all of this again.

Cody is a man who prides himself on his strategic prowess - it’s entirely good practice for he and Obi-Wan to cover the mission details whenever they have downtime, he’s aware of this.

… All the same, this isn’t a battlemap with three chokepoints, a hundred enemies, and countless potential flanking positions to watch out for. This linear-style of plan is as simple as it gets.

“While he’s booked a slot on the local tour,” Obi-Wan adds, stroking a hand over his beard in thought. Cody’s eyes track the movement idly.

“For some reason.”

The Jedi hums. “It seems as if he’s treating every moment that he’s not involved in intergalactic crime as a legitimate holiday.”

Cody huffs at the thought. It doesn’t seem particularly likely to him that someone preparing to take down the Republic would be so relaxed as to go around sightseeing like a normal tourist - but then again, he supposes he’s not really got an insider look on the proclivities of terrorists.

“Perhaps,” he responds, though his tone is doubtful. “So we tag along on the tour to watch Barrek, see if he tries to slip away, or takes any extra notice in concealed coves or hideaways. What comes after that…?”

Obi-Wan finishes off his bowl of fruit, placing down the dish on a small side table. “Lunch, I suppose,” he says evenly, checking the chrono on his wrist.

Now it’s Cody’s turn for exasperation.

“I meant with Barrek,” he clarifies. He reaches for a cup, taking a sip of his caf. The warmth of the mug in his hands is a grounding sensation, the same here as it always is during their morning meetings, wherever they may happen. It’s a pleasant constant to be drawn back to.

“Well, I imagine he’ll be eating lunch too,” Obi-Wan muses, “perhaps we might be able to do so together, hm?”

Cody raises a brow.

“You’re certain that’s wise? Won’t he remember, well… everything from last night?”

Obi-Wan smiles. “I daresay I’m counting on it, Commander.”

Now that catches Cody’s attention. He gestures for Obi-Wan to continue, and the Jedi steeples his fingers together, a plan already put together in full, it seems.

“We introduce ourselves with an apology for our drunken impropriety last night, and tell him that we recognise him from previous Pyke dealings. He’ll be irritated by us, but intrigued. Play up the oblivious angle and he might just spill something about the deal tonight.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Cody’s brow pinches in a frown, already going over the thousands of ways that such a direct ploy might backfire. “Wouldn’t announcing our intentions like that be an incredibly suspicious move?”

Obi-Wan shrugs, clearly an old hand at this social game by now.

“Then he writes us off as oblivious and unsubtle smugglers - they’re a credit a dozen in a system like this. A spy would never be quite so direct.” He finishes off his own mug of caf, glancing at Cody with a sly twinkle in his eye.

“Never,” Obi-Wan starts, his tone indicative of an incoming lesson, “underestimate the value of someone believing you to be a harmless fool.”

Cody can’t help but chuckle. “That’s usually Skywalker’s gambit, as I recall.”

“And just who do you think he learned it from?” Obi-Wan responds lightly, giving Cody a friendly pat on the shoulder. The Jedi taps his chrono, before turning to grab his coat from the nearby hook. “Now, we’d best be off, my dear. I believe we have a tour to catch.”

Cody nods, rolling his shoulders as he slips on his own jacket. Once more into the fray by each other’s side.

The lingering nervousness of the need to uphold his alias remains, though with the success of last night, Cody has to say his confidence has grown, just a little.

He offers Obi-Wan a small smile as they step out into the corridor, offering him his arm to take in a moment of boldness.

He knows he probably shouldn't indulge like this, and it'll likely only serve to make his predicament worse, but he can't find it in himself to care as he feels Obi-Wan's arm slip into his own, the Jedi's warmth steady and reassuring.

“It seems we do.”

______________________________

The tour of the curated grounds outside of the hotel ends up being as much of a waste of time as the both of them had suspected - not that they’re here to sightsee, but the Jedi and Commander still can’t help but make muttered comments to one another under their breaths with every egregious claim made by their guide.

The worker giving the tour has a veritable litany of diplomatically worded stock phrases about the history of the planet that they cycle though, obscuring the planet’s history as a corporate bidding ground and making it sound more like a ‘paradise’ that happened to be discovered by their company’s founder. The word ‘colonisation’, in particular, is very carefully tiptoed around.

At least some of the views are worth appreciating.

From their position at the back of the group, they maintain a watchful eye on Barrek, noting anything he seems to be paying particular attention to, any moment that could possibly give him means to slip away unnoticed.

… And Cody has to begrudgingly admit that it does, in fact, seem like the man is here to enjoy himself - it looks like he’s genuinely interested in the things the tour guide is saying. Force knows why.

As the event is wrapping up and the group is beginning to disperse, the two men share a glance and a subtle nod. Now or never.

Obi-Wan and Cody make their pre-planned approach, catching up to their target before he can disappear out of their sight. The Jedi clears his throat.

“Atashe Barrek?”

The Rodian’s shoulders stiffen, and the man turns, eyeing the two warily. Obi-Wan puts on a bright, easy grin, offering a friendly wave as he steps over. “It’s Renne. From that party for the Syndicate, back on Oba Diah? I knew I recognised you when we talked last night!”

Bold, bold move. Barrek lurches forwards as Obi-Wan says just the right amount of ‘too much’, the Rodian’s hand reaching out to grasp him by the lapel of his coat. Cody tenses, but taking his cue from his General, doesn’t move to intercept the attack. Still, he feels his shoulders draw up, body coiled like a spring even as he tries not to show it.

“Keep. Your voice. Down,” Barrek hisses, his fist tightening in the fabric. Cody makes note of the four different ways he could break the Rodian’s wrist from this position if things get ugly, his entire focus narrowed down to the threat currently being presented. It’s a nice fantasy, if nothing else - the sight of someone manhandling the Jedi like this irks him, and he itches to act.

Obi-Wan can handle himself, Cody knows this, but it’s his job above all else to handle things for him so he doesn’t have to.

During a particularly intense confrontation, Ventress had once referred to him as Kenobi’s trained attack dog. It was meant to be a disparaging comment, he’s sure, something intended to deny him of his agency - Obi-Wan’s eyes had flashed with something uncharacteristically dangerous at the comparison - but in the moment, Cody couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

So he’s an attack dog, then - good. Obi-Wan is his charge, and it’s his duty to go down fighting with bloodied claws and teeth, ensuring that he takes the hits in the other man’s place.

The small thrill he gets from the thought is probably not wholly borne from the loyalty trained into him since decanting - though Cody finds it easier to pretend that’s all that it is.

There’s no Commander Cody without a General Kenobi to protect. It’s simply the way of the Galaxy.

The Jedi placidly smiles as Barrek’s grip loosens and eventually lets go, Cody’s hackles lowering reluctantly as he does so. A small, irrational part of him almost wanted the Rodian to push, just for an excuse to put him in his place. It would certainly be more comfortable than playing nice.

“Ah, of course, of course. Secrecy, got it,” Obi-Wan murmurs, the vacant grin still plastered on his face as he taps the side of his nose conspiratorially.

Cody forces on a smile too, though his gaze is probably still a little too sharp on the man who’s far too comfortable with putting his hands on Obi-Wan.

He sucks in a quiet breath as he feels a foreign, yet soothing rush of calm entering his mind, no doubt courtesy of his Jedi sensing the tension that runs through him.

Cody allows it to seep into him, relaxing his shoulders and reminding himself that even without their usual access to their weapons, they still have the advantage here. His eyes meet Obi-Wan’s for the briefest of moments, silently thanking him for the assist.

Barrek takes a step back to brush himself off, though he’s still clearly irritated. He glances around rather conspicuously to check no one else is listening in, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Good. Who are you and why do you know me?” he growls, voice low.

Obi-Wan blinks, managing an incredibly convincing look of offense. “You don’t remember? Really, Atashe, I would have thought you would.”

At Barrek’s ensuing blank stare, he elaborates, “Renne and Vidarr Emerin. We were at the Pyke Palace - the soiree last year? We were speaking to Lom himself when you were passing, and I said–”

At the mention of the leader of the Syndicate, Barrek pales.

Cody holds his breath. If their words are being believed here, then Obi-Wan has made them out to potentially be incredibly important. This could all come tumbling down terrifyingly easily.

“Right– right,” Barrek interrupts, nodding vigorously. “I, ah– I remember now,” he lies. “Yes, at the, uh, mid-year party, right? I had drunk a lot, so that was why I didn’t immediately…” he trails off, eyes darting between them, evidently trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, unaware that the two men in front of him are playing chess instead.

“Of course, of course,” Obi-Wan returns brightly, clapping a hand on Barrek’s shoulder. “Now, you were on your way to the buffet before I interrupted you, right? How about we join you for lunch?”

The Rodian isn’t quite as adept at concealing his grimace as Cody imagines he intended to be.

“I… already arranged for company,” he says with a frown, his discomfort palpable. Obi-Wan’s smile grows brighter, clasping his hands together in delight.

“Well, more colleagues to meet sounds perfect! Lead the way.”

There’s not really much Barrek can do with that level of social ineptitude. As frustrated as he clearly is, Obi-Wan has done a skilful job of getting across that ‘Renne’ does run in the same circles as him, and the Rodian has no way of knowing how important they are to the Pykes, meaning he has to play nice just in case.

Barrek blinks, bewildered, not quite realising that he’s been expertly backed into a corner.

“... Uh, fine. It’s… Yeah, this way.”

Cody and Obi-Wan share a glance behind the Rodian’s back as he begrudgingly gestures for them to follow him inside. The Jedi has a distinctive triumphant gleam in his eye, but Cody suspects it’s a little too early to call victory just yet.

The real work starts now.

______________________________

Barrek leads the two of them through to a small table at the resort’s pop-up buffet for today’s lunch, awkwardly introducing the two of them to an apparent girlfriend, a Togrutan woman named Lia.

It’s admittedly strange that their intelligence hadn’t mentioned her at all, and from Cody’s memory, there was no hint of a second person staying in Barrek’s hotel room last night. Not enough reason to outright be suspicious, but definitely something to keep track of.

Despite his reservations, he offers her what he hopes is an easy smile as they settle down to eat.

Obi-Wan takes a seat across from Barrek, wasting no time in starting conversation about their ‘mutual’ line of work.

Cody is content to let the Jedi take the lead in conversation, his eyes tracking the lunch hall around them as subtly as he can. It’s not particularly busy in here right now, but they’re not exactly in the most secluded of spots… if someone were to attempt to listen in, they’d find it all too easy.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by Lia reaching across the table and tapping him lightly on the arm.

“The two of you are together, then?” she asks with a smile, inclining her head towards Obi-Wan.

It takes Cody a moment to register what she’s asking. Ah. Here they go. Time to actually play the role he’s been preparing for for the past few weeks.

He glances to where Obi-Wan is still very much engaged in conversation with Barrek, wincing internally. Looks like he’s on his own.

“Ah, yeah,” he replies, finding a tone that feels too light and airy to be natural to him. “Married, actually,” he adds, gesturing to the band on his ring finger.

Lia seems to be expecting him to say something else in the ensuing pause, so he offers a small smile. “We’re… here on our anniversary.”

Lia actually sighs at that, resting her head on her hand and smiling dreamily.

“Oh, how sweet. I figured it must have been a special occasion for the two of you,” she practically coos. Cody raises a brow.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you the other night. The two of you are just so…” she shrugs, eyes sparkling. “... In love, really.” She leans in, giving him a playfully conspiratorial nudge. “I wish Barrek would look at me like that.”

Cody lets out a strangled laugh, the sound more one of a desperate need to cover his surprise than anything else. He takes a sip of his drink, trying to stall out the need for a response. How had they been looking at each other, exactly?

“I, uh, I suppose we got lucky,” he manages to say after a moment, hearing the way his voice comes out a tiny bit strained, though luckily Lia doesn’t seem to pick up on it. Keep talking, Cody, Vidarr would not shut down on this topic, he reminds himself, trying to keep his calm as much as possible. “Closest thing to soulmates someone could get, I’d say.”

“Yeah?” Lia prompts, twirling the end of one of her lek around her finger. She’s enraptured, which Cody is grateful for, because it means he’s being believable enough - but it’s also absolutely terrible, because it means he’s going to have to improvise more.

“Well, y’know…” Cody starts, glancing sidelong to Obi-Wan, who’s currently leant back against the chair lazily as he talks shop with Barrek. He finds a strange sense of sureness wash over him as he takes a moment to just… look. Talking about being partners with someone. He thinks he can do that. He turns back to Lia with another smile, this one more certain than his previous attempts.

“We just… fit, I suppose,” he says with a shrug, his voice soft, thoughtful. “A good duo. Not just the, uh… romantic stuff. We’re close friends, allies first and foremost.”

He pauses to take another sip of his drink, feeling his heart ache slightly, tugged on by some invisible (but far too familiar), force. For once, he thinks, it could be helpful. He doesn’t push it away.

“It’s what makes it so special, you know? I know there’s nothing I can go through that he wouldn’t have my back for, and he feels the same about me. It’s…” Cody looks down at the band on his finger, his expression turning more pensive. “It’s only been a few years, but I can’t imagine anyone else being by my side. Being that… primary person that I turn to when I need advice, or… just company, really.”

He falls quiet for a moment, reflecting on the truth of the words. How much of this is him trying to play as Vidarr, and how much is real? It’s all tangled up in his mind, an inextricable knot of uncertainty.

“... That’s love,” Lia responds softly, giving him a warm smile.

Cody blinks. “Is it? I–” he meets Lia’s gaze again, scrambling to not blow his cover. “It– it is, I mean. Love.”

He lets out a steadying breath, focusing on making a recovery, and not on the way his heart has picked up its pace violently.

Is that what love is?

“I think I just forget that not everyone has something like this,” he says, forcing on the smile again. “It becomes so normal after a while. Background noise.”

Lia offers him a wry smile, her eyes landing on Barrek briefly, something like sadness etched there for the briefest of moments.

“Would that we all could be so fortunate,” she murmurs, her finger idly tracing the rim of her glass.

She smiles something bright and fake as Barrek turns back to face her, slinging an arm over the back of her chair.

“Ready to go, babe,” the Rodian announces, and the two ‘couples’ stand from the table, bidding their goodbyes. Obi-Wan goes in for a hug, which Barrek uncomfortably rebuffs.

‘It’s not laying it on too thick if it works’, Obi-Wan had told Cody earlier, blatantly enjoying the idea of playing the fool a little too much.

The man was right, Cody concedes, watching the way Barrek rolls his eyes as soon as they think they’re out of sight. ‘Renne’ seems to have been relegated to ‘harmless idiot’ status in the Rodian’s eyes, just as they’d planned.

Obi-Wan takes Cody’s arm once again as they head outside. The Commander forces down the distracting, odd feeling in his chest that has been lingering from the conversation with Lia, pushing it away to deal with later. Much, much later, if he has anything to say about it. His deathbed, perhaps, when he’s old and only has half of his memories left anyway.

… Although, Cody imagines he’s kidding himself with the notion that he’ll get to live that long in the first place.

“Success?” he asks the Jedi, attempting to shake off his persistent discomfort as the two head to the resort’s gardens to speak privately.

Obi-Wan nods. “He was incredibly resistant to saying more than he needed to, but all the same…” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking considerably self-satisfied. “They’ll be meeting at 9:30pm tomorrow. I’m not certain where, but we can trail Barrek if we’re careful.”

Cody lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“I don’t know why I was worried. Good job.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “It was purely luck, I assure you, but I appreciate it nevertheless.”

They pause for a moment to watch as a sparrow flutters overhead to land at a nearby birdfeeder. A small moment of peace after the emotional chaos of the last twenty minutes.

Beside him, Obi-Wan’s head tilts a little, a warm expression gracing his features.

“And you did excellently, too. Not that I could pay attention to the entirety of your conversation, but it looked like you dealt with Lia confidently,” he compliments. Watching Cody’s response carefully, he adds, “I do not, of course, wish to patronise. I only mention it as I knew you were nervous about the ordeal.”

Cody feels himself flush a little under the praise. He can take commendations about his prowess in battle - he knows he’s good at that - but it always feels harder, somehow, when it’s something he’s unsure about.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” he murmurs, eyes still tracking the small bird ahead of them.

Obi-Wan nods, and the two fall into a companionable silence.

Cody allows himself a brief reprieve from the stress of the last hour, quietly letting himself just enjoy the moment in the here and now. A gentle scent from the flowerbeds around them diffuses through the air, the sunlight peeking through the sheet of clouds above to softly make itself known.

Obi-Wan turns to fix him with a faux-earnest look, his eyes twinkling with what can only be described as mischief.

“Though, speaking of that chat you had… Soulmates, are we?” He asks innocently.

… Well. Cody was enjoying the moment. He feels his cheeks flush even brighter.

“Not. Another. Word,” he mutters, frowning over at the other man. Obi-Wan simply grins in return.

“No? Not one?” he presses, clearly delighting in the huff of annoyance that draws from his Commander.

“You’re incorrigible,” Cody grumbles. “I’m not going to encourage it, I know you too well.”

Obi-Wan hums at that, expression softening ever so slightly to reveal a genuine affection underneath his smirk. He gently nudges the Commander’s shoulder with his own, glancing back to the resort behind them.

“You certainly do, my dear. Come, we should be getting back to get our further agenda in order.”

Cody sighs, unable to keep from returning the fond smile.

“Right behind you. As always.”

______________________________

Obi-Wan had always been good at flirting.

Flirting, flirting, flirting, with anything that moves, anything that breathes.

He particularly has an aptitude for flirting with the enemy.

That doesn’t mean that Cody is good at listening to him do it.

The Commander sighs, fiddling with his comm-unit to give him something to occupy his hands with, focusing on getting the signal as clear as possible.It’s fairly clean already, but he’s desperate for something to do.

The smooth tones of his General drift out from the small device, serving to make the crease of his brow deepen.

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex asks from beside him, glancing sidelong at his oldest friend.

Cody grumbles under his breath, keeping his attention on the damn comm-unit. The tiny thing is vexing him more than it probably should.

For a brief moment, he fantasises about crushing it.

“Nothing,” he responds irritably.

Even through his vod’s helmet, he can practically feel the raised brow this earns him.

“Nothing,” Rex repeats, sounding skeptical. “Sure.”

The two drift into a silence once more, keeping an ear to the unfortunate conversation they’re listening in on over the comms. Once General Kenobi says the codephrase, the 212th are going to rush in, the 501st backing them up.

It’s just… taking longer than they expected.

Stars, why can’t they just get on with it? The Commander feels twitchier than usual, some unknown force making his usually endless patience wear thin.

His General throws out a casual line about the target’s eyes pleasantly matching the shirt they chose, and Cody rolls his eyes. At this rate, his scowl will be permanently etched onto his features.

Rex once again notices his tension.

“He’s just stalling until Skywalker arrives,” the Captain tries, but it doesn’t do anything to abate Cody’s prickly mien.

“Then he should get there faster,” Cody huffs, trying not to let the words come out in as much of a snap as they seem to want to. He’s aware he’s being irrational, but he can’t seem to shake it off.

Rex doesn’t respond.

After Skywalker comms in to inform them that he’d be at least another ten minutes (because of course he will be, Cody thinks to himself), the two hunker down in their small, temporary bunker (if it can even be called that - it’s more of an empty shack that they’d squeezed themselves into to keep out of sight while awaiting their next orders). Rex removes his helmet with a sigh, running through a routine check of his blasters to give himself something to do in the meantime.

A soft, charming laugh fills the room, a little fuzzy from the distortion of the comm signal. “You’re too much, truly. But I would be lying if I said it doesn’t intrigue me,” Obi-Wan murmurs - or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say he purrs.

Either way, it irks Cody considerably, making his chest feel oddly tight. He can clearly imagine the look on the Jedi’s face as he speaks, that sultry glint in his eye that comes to him so easily when he’s making eyes at the enemy.

“... It’s not about the mission.”

What? Cody startles as Rex breaks the silence, having apparently been watching him carefully for the last few minutes. Cody looks back at his vod like he’s grown a second head.

“Of course it’s about the mission,” he objects, absolutely baffled by his suggestion. “We’re wasting precious time, and the men are sitting ducks out here. I’d rather not do most of this firefight after sundown–”

“Sure, Codes, but difficult odds never phase you this much,” Rex counters, raising a brow. He continues to watch Cody, his gaze searching for Force knows what. The Commander is suddenly very grateful he never took his own helmet off.

“In fact,” the Captain presses, “I’ve never known you to be so off your game in the field. You usually do best when you’re backed into a corner. So it’s not about the mission.”

Cody doesn’t really know how to respond. He doesn’t particularly want to delve into all of the reasons behind his uncharacteristic distractions today.

“Just drop it, Rex’ika,” he insists, his voice a little weary. “I’m just feeling a little off today. It’ll pass.”

Something like sympathetic understanding crosses Rex’s features. Cody watches him hesitantly try to find his next words.

“... Is it about what happened on Cato Neimoidia a few weeks ago?” he asks. “How’ve you been sleeping since then?”

Cody shakes his head quickly. “No, I– I’m fine. I’m sleeping fine.” Or - as fine as a man whose life has been spent at war is capable of sleeping, but Rex knows well enough what he means. His last mission had been… messy, to put it lightly, but he’s dealt with worse. He can compartmentalise.

His brother looks a little relieved to hear that, though Cody can tell he still wants to push.

Another comment from Obi-Wan that implies he and the target are imminently about to go home with one another makes its way through the space, and Cody grumbles quietly under his breath. Something seems to click for the Captain. Something that seems to amuse him greatly.

“... Ah,” Rex says. The corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk. Cody wishes it didn’t do that.

“What?” he responds, tone clipped and making it clear that he is absolutely not in the mood for whatever the other man is about to come out with.

“Just connecting some dots.” If Rex looked any more smug right now, Cody might consider walking right out of the shack and eating his blaster - it would ultimately be more dignified than sitting through this inevitable conversation.

He does not want to talk about this, not now, not ever.

“Rex…” he murmurs lowly, a clear warning bleeding into his tone.

A warning that, of course, goes unheeded.

“You’d be unfazed trying to take down a kriffing rancor. And jealousy is what throws you off?”

If looks could kill, the 501st would need to hire a new Captain after this.

“I’m not jealous,” Cody rebuts without hesitation. He spoke too quickly, he knows immediately from the look on his brother’s face. Damn it all.

“No? Then why is every flirt he makes causing you to sound like Fox on that day the caf supplies ran out?” Rex looks practically triumphant in his discovery. “Oh, Force. That also must be why you got all touchy when that Twi’lek came onto Kenobi that time in 79’s. I thought it was about the other guy, but it wasn’t, was it?”

Cody sputters for a moment, trying to come up with a viable defense.

“That’s not– I–”

As far as Rex is concerned, that’s a veritable confession. He offers his friend a wide grin, returning his focus to the comms.

“Your secret’s safe with me, ori’vod. I won’t tell a soul,” he says, far too brightly for Cody’s liking.

Cody considers continuing to argue, but he knows that it’s a lost cause. With a heavy sigh, he deflates, slouching in his chair.

“If you were one of my men, I’d have you court-martialed for insubordination,” he mutters darkly, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’ll add that to the extensive list of reasons I’m glad I’m not one of your men, then,” Rex returns easily, giving Cody a playful nudge.

The Commander snorts, shaking his head. A wry smile finds its way onto his face, despite everything.

“Yeah, yeah. I still outrank you.”

The comm crackles with murmurs of conversation, and the two share an alarmed look. The codephrase.

“I’ll harass you about it later,” Rex chuckles, pulling on his helmet as the two rush out of the bunker.

“Just worry about surviving long enough to do that first, vod.” Cody mutters. “I could still shoot you in the back before this is all over.”

His brother only laughs.

______________________________

With the knowledge that the deal was set to be happening the following evening, the Jedi and Commander had spent the rest of their day at a fairly leisurely pace. After much persuasion, Cody had even let Obi-Wan buy a dinner for them both.

(“We usually split at Dex’s,” Cody had protested, not wanting the Jedi to pay out of pocket for such an expensive outing. He was aware that Obi-Wan had access to much more money than he did, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Yes, but I want to do something nice for you,” Obi-Wan insisted, gently placing a hand on Cody’s, staying his hand from reaching for his wallet. “I asked you to join me here on the mission in the first place, so let me repay you in kind.”

Cody had raised a brow at that. “I’ll be getting paid by the Republic for agreeing to come, regardless.”

Obi-Wan’s expression didn’t falter. “You might be, yes, but not nearly enough. Allow me this, please.”

Cody always had been bad at denying him when he used that tone.)

They’d both fallen asleep quickly that night, having stayed up to trade stories - a familiar ritual from when they first began working late together to get their mountains of paperwork turned in on time.

Obi-Wan tells Cody of planets he’d visited before the war, and promises to take his Commander to see some of them once this is all over - to give him the holiday and time off that the Jedi says he deserves. Cody regales his Jedi with tales of his childhood on Kamino, telling him of the books Shaak-Ti had helped smuggle to them to help the tubies sleep at night.

The following morning brings with it a quiet sort of strangeness.

Something urgent, but not necessarily dangerous, tugs at the edge of Cody’s conscious mind, gently drawing him to wakefulness.

He’s warm, warmer than he’d usually like to be, and he can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something important that he needs to be paying attention to.

He dozes, trying to figure out what, if anything, is different about today.

Obi-Wan lets out a soft murmur behind him in his sleep, pressing his nose closer against Cody’s back and–

Oh.

Well, that would certainly explain the warmth.

Cody doesn’t move, doesn’t even dare breathe as his mind works overtime to process the situation.

Obi-Wan is pressed directly behind him, one of his arms slung lazily over his torso. For want of a better word (and Cody is desperately searching for one), the Jedi is… holding him.

An explosion of conflicting emotions bubble in Cody’s chest, his mind still far too fogged from sleep to make sense of any of it.

With each breath from Obi-Wan, Cody can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back, and in a brief moment of delirium, he finds himself wishing that he’d forgone his undershirt too, just to feel the touch of skin against skin.

It’s a thought he immediately admonishes himself for, wondering just where, exactly, he’d gained the audacity to think such an unprofessional and objectifying thing about his commanding kriffing officer.

Cody’s breath grows progressively more shallow as he continues to draw a blank. How had this even happened? Cody is firmly stationed on his own side of the bed, meaning it was the Jedi who had to have shuffled over - but that means nothing. He’s asleep, and pressing close is a normal sleeping instinct when you’re in bed with someone else. Right? Perhaps Obi-Wan was just cold - though, that would hardly make sense, given that they’re on a tropical kriffing island.

Cody’s face, he’s sure, is flushing deeply, his heart hammering against his ribs at the contact. It’s fine. This… can be fine, and not existentially mortifying - as long as he extricates himself from the hold before Obi-Wan wakes up.

He doesn’t even want to imagine how awkward this would be if the other man was aware of what was happening.

He tries a very, very gentle shuffle towards the edge of the bed, but Obi-Wan lets out a quiet groan of protest in his sleep, curling himself around the clone even tighter.

Cody desperately tries to ignore the way that the sound goes straight to his groin.

Shit, shit, shit.

He doesn’t see another solution, though he wishes he did. Cody once again shifts, a little more firmly now, peeling Obi-Wan’s arm off from him as carefully as possible.

The second he sees a hint of freedom, the Commander bolts, rolling out of bed and rushing to the ‘fresher.

His Jedi, thank every star in the sky, does not seem to stir.

Safe inside the refresher, with the door locked behind him and his mind buzzing, Cody thinks faintly that his legs might actually give out under him.

Between the feeling of Obi-Wan pressed close against his back, and Lia’s words from yesterday still unsettling him, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

It all adds up to a great cacophony in his head, one Cody has absolutely no idea what to begin to do with. It’s too loud, too insistent, and his heart is still fluttering like a caged bird attempting escape.

A shower, he decides, is a good first step. He could probably do with a shower.

Shrugging off his sleepclothes, he numbly makes his way to the cubicle, determined to do something, anything, to calm his racing thoughts.

Cody presses his forehead against the cold tiles as the scalding water runs down his back. Neither of the contrasting sensations serve to ground him in reality the way he wishes they would.

He… wants.

No, that’s not quite right.

Wanting is ephemeral, malleable. It’s intense, burning, but it doesn’t stick around too long or cut down quite to the bone.

It usually, in Cody’s experience, is something that can be ignored, temporarily or not, with enough focus and discipline.

No, Cody does not want. He needs.

He raises his head from the tiles, closing his eyes as the water trickles in too-hot rivulets down his face.

Of course. Of course. He should have known, should have seen the signs… perhaps then, he could have done something to stop it.

Cody lets out a quiet, strangled groan. It echoes off of the tiles of the small shower back to him, sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.

This is no longer just some passing infatuation.

He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Force.

This whole mission has been a cruel play by the Gods. By even stepping foot here, he’d opened the lid on something he could have gone the rest of his life ignoring, and Cody is afraid - no, terrified - that there’s no going back now.

Passion, desire, infatuation - he can deal with those. They’re to be expected for anyone, even someone of his station trying to navigate living through wartime. Love, on the other hand…

… What the fuck does a clone do with love?

From the other room, he hears the front door of their room close, feels the slight shake of the walls. Obi-Wan has left, no doubt waking and deciding to pick them up breakfast like he did yesterday.

Slowly, Cody slides down the wall of the shower, sitting with his knees drawn to his chest and his gaze unfocused as the water pools around him.

His thoughts drift back to the words his Jedi had said to him two evenings ago, just before their kiss.

‘This… isn’t ideal.’

No, General, Cody thinks to himself, more than a little miserably. He drags a hand over his face, doing his best to stop his teeth from grinding together in frustration. No, it is not.

______________________________

The effort required to pull himself together for the evening is gargantuan, but then again, the Commander has always thrived under impossible odds.

They’ve been trailing Barrek from afar since 9pm, waiting for him to make his way to the site of the deal, wherever it may be. It’s almost a relief when, at 9:25, he finally takes his leave from the resort’s main building and slips out into the night.

“Showtime,” Obi-Wan murmurs, his eyes locked on the Rodian from their vantage point in the gardens.

“So it seems. We should be careful.”

“Ah, but we’re simply two lovers going on a nighttime stroll,” the Jedi responds lightly, giving his companion a gentle, friendly nudge. “Nothing suspicious there.”

Cody isn’t certain he’s up for their usual banter tonight.

Still, he forces on a small smile. It begrudgingly becomes genuine when he takes in Obi-Wan’s expression.

“You’re sure you’re alright, Cody?” he asks quietly, worried eyes searching Cody’s.

Obi-Wan had noticed his distraction earlier - of course he had. Cody had told him, not entirely incorrectly, that he was simply feeling a little ill.

A mistake, he immediately realised, as that meant that he’d been unable to avoid the Jedi’s fussing for the rest of the day.

A situation that had, unfortunately, not helped Cody’s heart after his earlier discovery. If he had to feel the gentle press of the back of the other man’s hand upon his forehead one more time…

Cody sees the familiar concern in his friend’s eyes, and nods.

“Can’t be too wrong by your side, sir,” he murmurs, a little more truth in the statement than he imagines Obi-Wan will ever know.

The Jedi’s expression softens further, and he reaches out a hand to squeeze Cody’s shoulder, sparing a quick glance over to Barrek’s retreating form in the distance. “Good. Let us go save the Galaxy once again, then, Commander,” he murmurs, smiling gently.

Cody allows himself a quiet chuckle, even as his stomach does a somersault at the gesture. “It does seem to fall on us often, that.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkle in a combination of fondness and amusement that he seems to only reserve for those quiet, between-mission conversations.

“Then it’s a good thing we’re always fit to answer the call, I suppose.”

It begins to rain a little ways into their excursion, the two pulling the hoods of their cloaks up as they follow Barrek from a safe distance.

He’s jumpy - though for good reason, Cody thinks, considering he’s being tailed - repeatedly checking over his shoulder and keeping a twitchy hand on the blaster at his side.

Rodians have considerably better night vision than humans, so Obi-Wan is sure to breathe a soft word of warning for them duck out of sight each time he senses the other man is about to turn.

Cody silently gestures for the two of them to take a path up the side of a nearby cliff as they see Barrek wander down to the shoreline of one of the many nearby beaches - less chance to intervene, perhaps, but a better, more secure vantage point.

The wind rushes past them as they find a place to properly set up, their cloaks billowing out behind them as the waves crash against the shore below. Cody frowns as he removes the blaster clipped to his back, fully extending it out to become a sniper rifle.

Yesterday he had been out of his element, but this is his arena. He's run countless stakeouts before, and the Commander is confident that today’s won't be particularly more difficult than any other.

“Wind’s in a bad direction, gonna affect my aim,” he gripes, glancing down to where Barrek is waiting around on the beach with his hands stuffed in his pockets. They have time, but the others will be arriving any moment. “Stand there,” he orders.

Obi-Wan raises a brow, though he steps over to where Cody had pointed without question.

“And kneel,” the Commander directs firmly, his focus dedicated to fiddling with the scope.

He belatedly realises that that is perhaps an incredibly inappropriate request to make of your commanding officer when he glances up to see Obi-Wan, wide eyed and a little red in the face.

Before he can open his mouth to apologise, rectify the situation, Obi-Wan nods, clearing his throat quietly. He arranges the cloak below him, settling himself down on the damp grass below.

Usually, the Jedi would make a joke out of the whole thing, or gently needle Cody for making such an order. For whatever reason, though, he stays quiet.

“Might I ask why…?” he eventually responds. Cody could swear his voice comes out a little strained, though he quickly dismisses the thought.

“Didn’t bring a stabiliser,” Cody answers with an apologetic smile, crouching in front of Obi-Wan and setting the body of the rifle down on the Jedi's shoulder, checking the scope and adjusting it minutely.

Cody tries not to think too hard about the way Obi-Wan's gaze burns into him as he hovers just over the other man, face to face and barely inches away between the cold metal of the blaster.

… But now is not the time for such distractions.

His attention zeroes in on the task at hand, the importance of it all providing a welcome reprieve from the pressure of being so close to his friend.

“... Slightly to the left,” he murmurs, and Obi-Wan dutifully shuffles himself over bit by bit until Cody, keeping close, breathes a quiet ‘stop’.

A few moments pass while he fixes the focus, feeling how tense the Jedi is.

“You can breathe, you know,” Cody says, unable to hide the amusement that slips into his teasing tone. “This is just a glorified telescope, I don’t need it steady enough to take a shot.”

It takes Obi-Wan a long beat to respond.

“... Right. Of course,” he says, letting out a quiet, shaky-sounding exhale. Cody frowns in worry, nearly commenting on how strange his General is being, but his attention is drawn first by three more figures moving into the scope.

“It’s starting,” he whispers, pulling back briefly to meet the Jedi’s gaze. “Tell me anything you sense.”

Obi-Wan nods, his eyes fluttering closed in that peaceful way that tells Cody he’s reaching out to the Force. “I will. Tell me anything you see,” he requests in return.

“I will.”

The General and Commander fall quiet as they settle in to work, their world narrowed down to the four people down on the quiet beach below.

The wind, though still strong, ceases its howling, as if holding its breath along with them.

It’s now or never, Cody thinks, watching as conversation on the beach begins. Time for them to save the Republic.

✷✷✷✷✷

next chapter

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto

#aspentreewrites #my fics #codywan #star wars fanfiction #tcw #cody x obi wan #commander cody #commander cody x obi wan #star wars #fanfiction #Obi-Wan kenobi x cody #Obi-Wan kenobi x commander Cody #flowers & cannons

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