#obiwan and quinlan get a mission

[kana7o]

at council meetings

[greenestkite]

ok im knee deep in writing for codywan week but i had an idea for a quinlan/obi-wan fic that i will get to eventually (hopefullyyy)

post bandomeer, Obi ends up with the true mandalorians (nebulous reasons, but mostly bc mando Obi-Wan is one of my favourite things) (jaster and the haat’ade are all alive bc i said so and galidraan hasnt happened yet (obi will prevent it from happening off screen))

timeskip to obi being in his mid-late twenties (no war & no sith bc thats too much work) and on some sort of mission type thing

he runs into quinlan (and aayla?) and maybe rescues them from a mission gone wrong and they realize they have basically the same mission so they decide to finish it together

Obi recognizes quinlan right away but doesnt say anything, and quin doesnt recognize obiwan bc obis always wearing his helmet & beskar muffles the force

aayla is 67% sure the random mando who saved/helped them knows quin bc hes kinda gone above and beyond, but she doesnt question it too much (the mando also seems familar to her but barely; (obi used to go with quinlan to visite her in the creche before he left but she was like 3 at the time, so memory is fuzzy))

quinlan is 83% sure he knows the random mando bc they keep like,, cutting themselves off mid sentence, and also stopped quin from touching things with his bare hands which could be a dislike for people touching his stuff but also aayla was picking things up willy-nilly and the mando didnt say anything about that

why doesnt obi say anything to quin? uhhh havent figured that one out yet but something something wasnt good enough to be a jedi and self esteem issues probably

eventually obi has to take off the helmet and quin is like “!!!!! i fuckign KNEW IT” and obi is like, no idea what you mean and absolutely you did not

and they work together to finish the mission

and obi and quin talk about how obiwan left and and all that jazz

and they end up kissing probably (definitely)

[obi-wkenobi]

1/? Okay but 5+1 fic featuring 5 times Obi wan accidentally caught anakin in a compromising position/anakin + Obi wan were in a compromising position &one time he put anakin in a (com)promising Position 😏😏😏 idk man I’m just think of scenarios like Obiwan & anakin having to hide in a really tight space &anakin’s ass is presssd against Obiwan & force help him but anakin won’t stop wriggling or Obi wan catching anakin leaving a room butt naked: “I swear master! It’s not what you think!!”

aswdelncoijw *wails* anon!!!!! the noise i made when i found this in my inbox the other day was inhuman. this is chefs kiss, perfect, wonderful, magnificent, and exactly my type of thing. i’m more inclined to go with the second option, just because the idea of them actually being together and obi-wan’s control getting progressively less lax each time they find themselves in a compromising position makes my brain turn to static. the rising tension between them has me panting just !!!!! fuck. okay, here’s a thing:

“Dance, Anakin. Now,” Obi-Wan warns, shoving them further in amongst the press of bodies around them.

Obi-Wan rolls his hips, all slow rocking and easy thrusts that speaks of his senior Padawan years spent traversing the lower levels of Coruscant with Quinlan. His former Padawan on the other hand merely grimaces, shuffling his feet and rocking his hands from side to side, looking like a lost tooka amongst its predators.

“You’re going to get us caught,” Obi-Wan hisses, his voice harsh, having to pierce through the rhythmic thumping of the music.

Anakin glares at him, indignant. He sways harder and winces when an enthusiastic Twi’lek bumps into him. Obi-Wan forces himself to not roll his eyes, instead choosing to watch as the Iradu guards currently chasing them stand in the corner of the room. The dance floor is crammed and they shouldn’t be seen, except Anakin is as stiff as a protocol droid.

“Master,” Anakin whines, “why the kriff are we here?”

“Just dance, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snaps. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”

He is aware that his voice is too severe, his demeanour too irritated, yet he can’t find it within himself to care. Not when sweat is already gathering under his shirt, dampening the line of his back and in between the crevices of his elbows and knees. Even worse is that he can smell Anakin, and he finds that he doesn’t dislike the dark scent.

“Master,” Anakin complains again, his face pinching in distress, clearly uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan gives him a look, a look that says do as I say, and watches as he attempts to move once again. He’s gangly. All elbows and knees and awkward feet, and Obi-Wan is reminded that for all of Anakin’s bravado and frequent arrogance, underneath them is a man who is mostly unsure. Sometimes Obi-Wan forgets that Anakin’s insecurities can be found in the oddest of places. He reins it in most of the time, especially when Obi-Wan himself is around, but here on this planet, shoulders hunched forward and dark eyes skittery, he looks incredibly self conscious.

The music continues to pulse and the lights continue to flicker, all crimson red, purple noir, and electric blue as a uniform of bodies roll and twist together. Anakin continues to shuffle; those insufferably tight trousers he’s wearing are undoubtedly not helping, the white mesh shirt revealing the embarrassed blush on his chest. Obi-Wan averts his gaze. This is probably good for Anakin, to get him out of his comfort zone and introduce him to missions that involve tact and don’t just include blasting his way to success.

Still, Obi-Wan consciously gentles his tone. “You took dance classes at the Temple, didn’t you? Just remember those lessons.”

Anakin scoffs. “They didn’t teach dancing like this,” he says defensively, voice strained.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth, forcing himself not to lash back. Force, but why did Anakin have to be such a brat?

“Like what?” he asks lowly, grinning as a new song starts, featuring a filthy bass that has him rolling his hips, slow and deep. 

“Like that—” Anakin growls, additional heat immediately rippling across his cheeks.

Obi-Wan curls amusement between them in the Force and peers at him in the dimness of the room, waiting for him to explain.

“Yes?” he prompts, smirking.

“Grinding,” Anakin spits out, gesturing towards Obi-Wan’s moving figure.

Obi-Wan laughs. “No, I suppose they didn’t.”

Anakin inhales, exhales, swallows thickly and looks anywhere but at Obi-Wan. He is perhaps enjoying Anakin’s unease a bit too much, but well, there is something extremely endearing about—

“Well I’m not doing it,” Anakin bites out, panic edging his voice.

Obi-Wan’s fondness is immediately replaced with vexation. He puffs out a frustrated breath and rolls his shoulders, annoyance twisting his mouth. How typical of Anakin, to snarl like an animal when placed in a situation he is unfamiliar with. He is about to reply, something calm and not at all maddened when movement in his periphery catches his eye. 

The Iradu guards are entering the crowd—

“—kriff!”

He grabs Anakin’s wrist and forcefully pulls him forward, twisting him around so that his back thumps against Obi-Wan’s chest. Anakin makes a panicked sound and flails until Obi-Wan grabs at his hips and presses them close together, something tight winding in his stomach as he moves Anakin to dance against him—to grind against him.

“What—what are you doing?!”

Obi-Wan huffs unsteadily behind his ear and whispers, “The guards are in the crowd. You need to dance with me, we can’t be caught, Anakin. You know how much trouble this will cause in the senate if it's found out that Jedi were sent here.”

Anakin makes some wounded noise that he can’t parse before nodding, and Obi-Wan lets out a relieved breath. He keeps one hand gripping at Anakin’s hip, encouraging each hesitant movement. The other moves up to Anakin’s throat, silently urging him to tilt his head back until it rests against Obi-Wan’s shoulder and ensuring that his face is hidden. Obi-Wan burrows his own head in Anakin’s neck, frowning as Anakin's Adam’s apple bobs beneath his hand and his breathing comes out shallow. 

It feels horribly intimate and for a wild moment Obi-Wan considers changing the plan, except Anakin’s hips then begin to purposefully roll against his, his—Force, his ass grinds perfectly against Obi-Wan’s groin, just like it should if they were two strangers in a club caught up in nothing but the sweaty, intoxicating heat of each other.

Obi-Wan gasps and swallows a wanton moan and meets Anakin’s thrust. They move as one, Obi-Wan tightens his hold on Anakin’s hip and Anakin digs hands into his own thighs. The intensity of it, the rocking—kark—the dragging of Anakin’s ass against him, even over his trousers, has his cock hardening.

It feels—

Arousal coils tight and hot in his gut, his breathing nothing but shaky, damp exhales against humid, golden skin. He bites at his lip, stopping himself from groaning as the throbbing of his cock becomes an ache, so hard and sticky and wet that the friction of Anakin’s repeated grinding has him almost coming in his kriffing trousers.

Obi-Wan grits his teeth and moves slower, changing his rhythm to a patient, hard roll that causes static to pulse behind his eyes. He could fuck Anakin like this, fuck him deep and relentless—

A high, loose sound comes strangled out of Anakin’s throat. It is desperate, and enough to knock sense back into Obi-Wan. He promptly creates space between himself and Anakin, ignoring the needy whine that comes from Anakin as he does so, and scans the room, seeing no signs of the Iradu guards. 

“Let’s go,” he rasps, instantly moving away and trying to keep himself from doing something ridiculous, like grabbing at his former Padawan and asking him how he wants to take it.

“Obi-Wan?”

Why does Anakin have to sound like that? All insecure and worried, needing reassurance. Obi-Wan can't deny him when he sounds like that.

Obi-Wan glances back at him, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He looks positively debauched; chest heaving, pupils blown, and cheeks bright red. Needy and hungry and aroused, so beautiful that it hurts. Strands of hair have fallen into his face, plastered to his forehead by the droplets of sweat trickling down his temple. Obi-Wan has to look away as he tries to smother down the traitorous arousal returning to boil in his stomach. He digs his nails into his forearms, biting at the skin so he won’t reach out and touch.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin repeats, and despite the worry there, his voice still comes out grated and husky, and Obi-Wan has to blink against the sound of it.

“Anakin,” he says, a warning or a plea, he doesn’t know.

Anakin’s steps up to him, eyes dark and blown. “Did I dance well, Master?” he asks, coy.

Obi-Wan's jaw clenches and he breathes deeply, shuddering as Anakin leans in and places a hand on his thigh, too close to his still straining cock to be unintentional.

“You did,” he croaks, feeling fraught and strung taut, ready to strike. 

If possible, Anakin blushes even more so, and the moment of sincerity allows Obi-Wan to take back the reins he had let fumble from his grip.

“I sense that this is a conversation for a different time,” he says, voice both exasperated and fond.

“If you say so, Master,” Anakin pants, far too pleased with himself.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and pushes through the crowd, knowing that Anakin is following his lead and scowls in both delight and dread as he remembers that he and Anakin must tonight share a bed.

this ran away from me and ends quite abruptly but i desperately want to see them dancing and grinding away at each other and obi-wan basically being on the verge of nutting because it’s so good

[aceobi]

some obikin role reversal au things bc im ✨️obsessed✨️ warning⚠️: explicit

anakin getting obiwan later on in his padawan years bc of quigons death

obiwan is so quiet, mourning his beloved master

anakin does his damn best to help obi through it

they grow super close and become literally inseperable

anakin is always doting on his obi, praising him every other breath and constantly touching him

obi finally loses the stick up his butt and learns to let go a little bit (and maybe starts getting in trouble a little more)

anakin starts to become super possessive over his padawan, and is reluctant to let obiwan hang out with the other padawans (especially quinlan fucking vos)

obi doesn't mind tho, his fellow padawans are always making fun of his relationship with his master

neither of them see anything wrong with how close they are

anakin is absolutely horrified when they're sparring and he gets hard pinning his only-just-eighteen-year-old padawan to the mat

he's so ashamed he asks for a solo mission but he cancels last minute when he sees how upset obiwan is

instead they watch a holomovie together

obi falls asleep with his head in his master's lap

anakin can't believe it when he gets hard again and he prays to the force that obiwan doesn't wake up while he tries to get rid of his erection

because he's so focused on his hard on, he doesn't sense obi wake up, with his master's hard cock in his face

obiwan has known for months that his master wants him but he's too much of a good man to ever do anything about it

so obiwan decides to take it into his own hands and puts the clothed tip in his mouth

anakin practically jumps out of his seat when he feels it, but obiwans weight is holding him from getting up

"obi wan, what are you doing?" he gasps, he can't believe this is actually happening

"im sucking your cock, master, i thought that was obvious" its so simultaneously innocent and bratty, anakin groans while obiwan rubs anakins dick through his pants

obiwan isn't one to be deterred, so he doesn't wait for anakin to say anything else, he pulls his master's dick out of his pants and starts sucking him off properly

anakin comes in under a minute (something obiwan will tease him about forever)

"don't ever let them knight me, master" obiwan begs later that night after anakin ate him out til he was crying

"they will try" anakin chuckles and cuddles his beloved padawan closer

[phoenixyfriend]

For your suddenly omegaverse au what exactly happened? Like I think obiwan and Anakin hop over from cannon verse to omegaverse but I am unclear on if there already existed obiwan and Anakin in omegaverse. Did they die early or do they just not exist or are they just not force sensitive and therefore not a part of the order? Is there still a sith conspiracy around Anakin?

Context: Original Post, Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom, Soap Operas

So, from the original post:

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse

Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don’t exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood.

To clarify: There has never been an Anakin Skywalker in this AU. There has never been an Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They don't know this for sure when they land in the AU, though. All they know is that the Jedi have no record of either of them. They figure, well, maybe they just got lost in the shuffle. Anakin wasn't found until he was nine, after all, and that was only by great coincidence.

The rest of this post has almost no mention of the omegaverse elements, FYI.

Warning: References to the Tusken massacre, explicit sedation and isolation of a mentally unstable individual threatening violence.

I don’t want to make light of institutionalization and involuntary holds, but Anakin is a character with a history of violence talking about repeating such an act, and that’s... a bit of an extreme case.

------

It's not that hard to convince the Temple to let them run a mission that lets them stop by Tatooine or Stewjon. Anakin cares a lot more, so Tatooine it is! Obi-Wan can tell there's something sketchy going on with Anakin's particular anxiety about this, but he rolls with it. Anakin was very specific about the timing for some reasons, and at this point, it's easier to just let it all play through.

They go well after the whole “congrats, you’re omegas... somehow,” thing has happened, a month or so before Geonosis would have happened. Obi-Wan has managed to help the council sabotage and delay the Separatist side of the war enough that they’ve gained... maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. Just a little more time to keep a few more people alive. Nobody’s reached out to Kamino yet, and Jango isn’t staging a failed assassination to draw someone in, either. They’ve bought enough time for Anakin to spend his vacation time checking in on his mom seeing if he exists here, and Obi-Wan can go with him.

They get to Tatooine. They wander about, and Anakin doesn't actually explain where they're going, but takes them straight to where the Lars farm is. Obi-Wan lets Anakin tell him that it was the Force that led him to the right area. Anakin can sense that his mom is in there, and Obi-Wan chalks up the relief from his former padawan to 'she's here and we don't have to look for her.'

Anakin is... panicking. Just a bit. What if he shows up and it turns out this reality's Anakin is off doing something completely unrelated and she realizes he's the wrong person? Or what if she doesn't recognize him and he calls her Mom anyway? What if he fucks up and says something stupid or just starts crying on her? She'll think he's insane.

Obi-Wan... takes over.

Anakin stays hidden, listening. Obi-Wan knocks on the door, and asks if there's a 'Shmi Skywalker' in residence. Someone in town mentioned her. He explains that he has a young friend of about twenty years--they're not sure, exactly, because the friend doesn't know his own birthday, but it's about there--who happens to be a Skywalker, and they're trying to see if they can reconnect him with a parent. They don't have much to go off of other than the surname... the Shmi that lives here wouldn't happen to have ever had any children about that age?

No. She hasn't had any children of her own blood, actually, her only child is her stepson, but she'd be happy to meet this other Skywalker, if he's in the area. It's always nice to find family, and connecting with those that were separated from you is a big deal on Tatooine. She's not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

(Cliegg, dear, put down the rifle.)

Obi-Wan promises to let his friend know, bids them goodbye, and goes to find Anakin.

Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown.

As one does.

Anakin insists that they stick around for a bit, that they do what they can to protect the farm, because that's his mom, even if she's not really his mom, and Obi-Wan can tell there's a Lot Going On here. He assumes it's because Anakin's upset his mom doesn't know him, which is a little irrational on account of their two options being "Anakin doesn't exist (and so Shmi doesn't know him)" and "Anakin does exist (but Shmi doesn't know this Anakin, so she still doesn't know him)," but Anakin's not a very rational person.

Obi-Wan thinks tamping down the current crisis is probably a little more important than chastising Anakin's attachment issues, mostly because Anakin's hands are shaking, and he's looking a little wild-eyed, and like. Obi-Wan's not great at dealing with Anakin's many and varied emotions, but he's learned at some point when it's best to just... roll with it Until There's Less Risk of Stab or Sobbing Laughter.

He helps figure out some minor fuckery with the Force to hide the family in the homestead behind them from visitors, and to warn them to hide when someone comes by. It’s not a lot--mostly just meditating and asking the Force for a helping hand--but it’s nice.

Except, well, Anakin keeps fidgeting. He keeps panicking. He has them coming back almost daily for a week, always too scared to talk to his mom but insistent on protecting her, and always looking at the calendar. Obi-Wan wants to get back to the Temple, but whatever the actual hell is going on with Anakin is too big to just ignored.

A specific day comes and goes. Anakin is a mess of jitters and nerves, and finally Obi-Wan asks just the wrong (right?) question, and... they visit Shmi.

Anakin says they can talk later, he just wants to see his mom One Last Time.

(Obi-Wan is getting more and more worried, but he sits through the incredibly awkward meeting between Anakin and his alt-universe mom, watches as Anakin has no idea what to say and almost cries, and Shmi just kind of lets him do that and Beru--a sweet girl, Obi-Wan thinks, and very practical--tells him that this is all very normal for reunited slaves.)

(Obi-Wan wonders if maybe there’s some stuff Anakin never told him about how being a slave affected him.)

(Obi-Wan had thought they’d moved past most of this, but..)

The meeting ends. There’s hugging.

They get back to the ship, and Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin fall apart. Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin cry and scream into a pillow, hyperventilate and nearly punch a hole in the wall as he rages about how it was all for nothing! Obi-Wan gets to watch Anakin break into a million pieces in a way he’s never seen before.

Obi-Wan gets a confession.

Anakin tells him about the Tuskens.

It’s not an easy conversation. It’s not a short conversation, either. Anakin’s full of pain and misery and rising guilt, talks about how he’s been asking himself if it would be easier to keep his mother safe if he just killed them all now, except Obi-Wan would know, and be disappointed, and sure the Chancellor had said that they were little more than rabid animals, but Anakin doesn’t think he can kill the younglings again when his mom is still fine, and--

Obi-Wan sedates him.

He wants to say that he’s not proud of this, but... Anakin isn’t well. Anakin isn’t well in a way that is currently, specifically, revolving around doing extreme violence. Anakin is talking about going out and committing a slaughter as preventative maintenance.

Anakin stays sedated until they get back to the Temple, and he’s put in Force-suppressant cuffs--Obi-Wan quietly tells them to use something that can’t be sliced or taken apart by a droid specialist, and to avoid collars because Anakin was a slave for nearly a decade, and has a lot of traumatic associations--and in an isolated room.

It’s not a cell. Not technically.

He can’t just leave, though.

Obi-Wan hates himself for it, just a little. He doesn’t want to be doing this, not to his padawan, his brother, his son, but... a massacre. Even the younglings, he’d said.

(“He said he didn’t think he could do it again,” Obi-Wan mutters, half to himself and half to the mind healer that asks for his rundown of the situation. “I think he knows it was wrong, but...”)

(But he still did it, of course.)

It’s... better than Obi-Wan feared, but worse than he hoped.

Anakin is emotionally unstable. He has been, for a long time, but he’s usually functional. When the mind healer isn’t directly poking at his worst wounds, Anakin can more or less pass for... not okay, necessarily, but no worse than anyone else in the war had. He can say the right words. He can do a joint meditation. He can talk about philosophy the way a Knight that’s taken all the right classes does.

But part of Anakin still holds to the idea that the Tuskens deserved to die.

“This is my fault,” Obi-Wan whispers, more than once, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I should have...”

“He was an adult,” says Mace, who isn’t Mace, not the one that Obi-Wan knows, but a newer friend, one that’s still figuring how to act around him. “Young, but still an adult. He made that choice.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer. Things aren’t that simple.

“The timing can’t have been a coincidence,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself, later on, but in the same spot, and the same position.

The Quinlan of this universe shrugs. He knows Obi-Wan better than most, right now. Psychometry’s helpful that way, and sharing Obi-Wan’s heat hadn’t hurt. “Seems likely. You said Sith were involved and setting traps, and a kid like yours, with that much power and trauma... ripe for the molding.”

Obi-Wan whines, and then catches the noise and stuffs it back down, locks it up tight with the other ‘instinct’ things he doesn’t like to think about having. The sound already has Quinlan shifting closer, and the smell is... intended to be comforting, he thinks. Reacting to his own distress, which he’s probably just pumping out right now, because he still doesn’t know how to--

“Can I help?” Quinlan asks, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Someone gets through to Anakin, maybe, or he just lets himself be ground down, or Obi-Wan’s entreaties that he can’t teach Ahsoka until he understands his crimes get through. He won’t be trusted around the clones until the Jedi can trust him to do the right thing, they inform him.

“I wouldn’t hurt the clones.”

“Nobody’s going to believe that until you understand your crimes and truly, actually feel remorse for them.”

There wasn’t a crime, technically. Not in this universe. That tribe is still alive, here, unknowing of the fate they escaped by dint of Anakin talking himself down from committing another slaughter.

(He tells the mind healer it’s because Obi-Wan was there.)

(He might have done it, he says, if he hadn’t thought Obi-Wan would be disappointed in him.)

(He says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, that Obi-Wan’s opinion is worth more than the horror of what he might become.)

“We’re going to keep an eye on anyone talking to Palpatine,” Shaak tells him one day, after Anakin’s been mental instability hold for two weeks. “We don’t know for sure how far the similarities extend from your universe to ours, but given everything else you’ve been right about...”

“That bad?” Obi-Wan asks.

Shaak grimaces, fangs glinting in the light. “I want to believe we’d have never allowed a child into such a position, but I can’t know what political leverage may have been used in your dimension... whatever reason was had to put Skywalker in those rooms, we know the consequences now--”

“What did he do to my padawan?” Obi-Wan demands, because Anakin won’t even tell him that. Anakin hasn’t mentioned Palpatine since they left Tatooine. Not to Obi-Wan.

“Nothing physical,” Shaak manages. “But the lies he told and the suggestions he planted... it’s good they haven’t met again yet in this life. We’ll all be keeping them far apart.”

He wants to take solace in that. “Why do you know before I do?”

“Skywalker values your opinion,” she says. “Only yours. He doesn’t want you more disappointed in him than you already are, so much of what is relayed to the council as a matter of security goes no further, but this was deemed necessary to share. He agreed to it, if you worried we’d broken his confidence.”

Anakin’s therapy would normally be entirely private.

Anakin’s therapy would normally not be in response to confessions of mass slaughter.

He hasn’t asked to be let out, which Obi-Wan hopes is a sign that he realizes at least subconsciously that he was in the wrong. The mind healer says he could have been released under watch by a Master probably a day or two after he arrived, but seems to be drawing some kind of comfort in knowing he couldn’t hurt someone even if he tried.

Obi-Wan is Anakin’s emergency contact. His next of kin. His healthcare proxy. Anakin has a right to privacy, minor as it is in such a situation, and everyone recognizes and treats him as an adult, but... Obi-Wan learns as much from the mind-healer as he would have back when Anakin was actually a child.

“He trusts you to make the right decisions,” the mind healer tells him, careful and unassuming. “He has... a lot of conflicting opinions about many things, including the order, the coming war, the nature of human reproductive dynamics, the Code... but he seems keen on the idea that you are his best reference on morality and ethics.”

Oh, good, more horrifying responsibility.

“He’s better,” the mind healer tells him. “I want to get him out of here before he starts going stir crazy while still relying on the perceived safety as a crutch for his mental health. And he--”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Obi-Wan says, heavy as anything. “I know.”

“Well... there’s a war coming,” the mind healer says. She offers a thin smile when he looks at her. “I don’t want him going out, but it makes him feel useful, gives him a direction for the aggression, and... the Council is adamant that we’ll need him as much as we need you.”

It’s true.

“Did he tell you why everyone called him the Hero With No Fear?”

“No.”

“Ask him.”

[crispyjenkins]

Secretly married obiwan x quinlan

(thank you all so much for your patience on this one! still figuring out my routine around my family and who i am as a person, but prompts are back to sunday and monday uploads!

i guess i just like the idea of quinlan and obi-wan gettin’ hitched really young? it certainly sounds like smth quinlan would do. HOWEVER can you just imagine them not getting into a relationship until the clone wars? (ノ*´◡`) maybe they’ve been dancing around it since they were padawans and finally decide to just say fuck it like anidala. 

that is not this story.)

  The greatest injustice of it all is that Quinlan and Master Tholme had just left the Temple when the council had sent him and Qui-Gon to Melida/Daan, just as Quinlan had not been there when Obi-Wan had been sent to the Agricorp. Quinlan had almost strangled him for that, when he’d shown back up from Bandomeer trailing behind his new master, and, honestly, Obi-Wan hadn’t blamed him.

  When the contingent of Jedi and their padawans arrive in the capital city of Zehava to help negotiate with Neild and the Young, Quinlan hugs him instead. 

  And Obi-Wan hasn’t eaten properly in weeks, he’s been sleeping in the sewers, and Cerasi’s blood is still caked under his fingernails, and Quinlan nearly knocks him over with the force of their collision. He wraps Obi-Wan up so tight it almost feels like they’d never even left the créche — he’s always felt more like home than the Temple, anyways.

  “Let’s not do that again,” Quinlan says, surprisingly in control of his voice for how wrecked he’d sounded after Bandomeer.

  With shaking hands, Obi-Wan hugs him back, twisting his fingers into the back of Quinlan’s robes until he can’t feel them anymore. “I’ll say goodbye properly, next time,” he promises hoarsely, feeling Master Qui-Gon prod at his mind in concern before Master Tholme leads him away. 

  Quinlan makes a distressed noise and hugs him tighter. “Or you could stop kriffing almost getting killed every mission, yeah? I swear by the Maker that if Master Yoda has to sit me down one more time to ‘break the news’ to me that you've gone awol, I’m going to throw you into a sarlacc.”

  Obi-Wan does suppose it’s a little unfair to do this to his friends nearly every time he leaves the Temple, but with a galaxy so big and so full of need, he knows he can’t promise that. 

  So he presses his forehead into Quinlan’s collarbone, releasing his hands just long enough to tuck himself into Quinlan’s robes instead, and nods against him anyways. “You’d have to find a sarlacc first, Quin,” he says, like making a joke of it will excuse that he’d almost gone and left Quinlan alone again. 

  “Don’t worry, I’ll just stick you on a desert planet, and with your luck, the sarlacc will find you.”

-

  The greatest injustice of it all is that Obi-Wan knows before Qui-Gon even opens his mouth what he’s going to say. No one ever looks at someone like that with good news.

  They excuse him from his last lesson so he can find a private meditation room to process, but Obi-Wan goes to Master Tholme’s apartment instead. He leaves the bedroom doors closed, the quartermaster will send someone to sort through their belongings later, and he settles on Quinlan’s meditation stool in the main room. He knows Quinlan has more belongings than is typically appropriate of a Jedi, but Tholme keeps the living spaces clean and bare, neutral colours blurring together until the white walls stare back at Obi-Wan in accusation.

  He should have known he wouldn’t be able to meditate, anyways.

  After Qui-Gon goes to bed, leaving Obi-Wan with murmured words of assurance and a ruffle of his hair, Obi-Wan slips out of their quarters in his darkest robes. He meets Luminara and Bant in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and they know it’s impossible that their little escapade has gone completely unnoticed, but no one stops them from winding through the different fountains until they reach the one modeled to resemble a spring on Kiffu. None of them had ever been to Quinlan’s home planet, but Obi-Wan had come here often with him even in their créche days, and dropping to sit in the yellow dirt doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

  Luminara sets a simple clay incense burner on the edge of the fountain wall, lighting it as Bant lays out a small offering plate with Quinlan’s favourite sweetcake; they don’t make Obi-Wan help as they go about fixing an altar with little bits from all their cultures, the water-filled quiet between them heavier so heavy it reminds him of those nights on Melida/Daan.

  “Did—” Obi-Wan swallows even though his mouth is dry. “Did you all do this for me, before?”

  His friends exchange a look before nodding. “Both times,” Bant says softly, lighting the last candle before joining him on the ground and for once not worrying about laying out a blanket first. 

  “Quinlan almost didn’t come to the second one,” Luminara admits, standing over the altar with her eyes closed as she breathes in the incense. 

  Obi-Wan simply nods, because that does sound like Quinlan, and he feels horrid all over again for making Quinlan go through this, twice. Inhaling a sigh, Obi-Wan finds the holodisk hidden away in his robes and sets it next to the incense. 

  None of them can bear to turn it on.

-

  The greatest injustice of it all is that, for some reason, Master Tholme did not contact the Temple before hitching a ride back from the moon where the unhappy locals had bombed their ship. And Obi-Wan knows Master Tholme didn’t tell the council they were in fact alive, because then the council would have told Obi-Wan.

  He feels it the moment their ship docks, Quinlan’s presence flooding his mind until his fingers tingle with it, and he shoots to his feet.

  The class of senior padawans stare at him in surprise, and Master Prweex stops mid-lecture, chirping in concer. “Is everything alright, Padawan Kenobi?”

  Breath caught somewhere in his throat, Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, and instead scrambles from the classroom, opening the door with the Force before he can slam into it. 

  Despite popular superstition, Jedi cannot teleport, but Obi-Wan honestly couldn’t say how he made it from the lesson halls to one of the main hangars, where a small group of Jedi masters stand next to a shamble of a ship that spews smoke from several panels. And, there, Master Tholme looking ragged and tired, robes still stained from the explosion and with a cast on his right arm, but Obi-Wan’s eyes snap immediately to the padawan on his side.

  Quinlan is a little worse for wear, and his braids hang around his shoulders instead of pulled up, not that Obi-Wan cares as he sprints the last few yards and launches himself at his friend. The masters step cleanly out of the way, likely having sensed his approach from a few hallways away, but Quinlan clearly hadn’t, yelping as he stumbles to catch him. It isn’t until then that Obi-Wan can accept that, yes, he had mourned him, but for some reason the Force had decided “not yet”.

  “Obes?” Quinlan asks softly when Obi-Wan doesn’t pull his head away from his chest. 

  “Hmm,” Master Rancisis chuckles, the sound edged in saddness. “Perhaps Kenobi needs a moment, Padawan Vos; it has been a long few weeks in your absence.” 

  And Obi-Wan is more than content to stay there the rest of the day, even though Quinlan smells like he hasn’t bathed in a week – and he probably hadn’t. Quinlan still hugs him back and bleeds worry into the Force, as Master Tholme gently runs a hand over the back of Obi-Wan’s head and sighs.

  “I know what Melida/Daan did to my padawan, so I can imagine what you’ve been through the last few weeks.” When Obi-Wan still doesn’t pull away, he continues, “You know, now that I think about it, during their clan wars the Stewjoni had a special marriage rite, when one thought dead returned to them.”

  “Master?” Quinlan asks in confusion, but Obi-Wan grips his robes tighter. He does remember Master Nu mentioning something...

  Master Tholme laughs, only a little rough, and steps away to join the other masters who have started slowly making their way from the hangar. “I suppose I thought it funny, padawan,” he says, “that, if I recall the ceremony correctly, you’re both halfway there already. You will meet me in the Halls of Healing when you’re ready? I’d like to get the cut of yours looked at.”

  “Of course, master. Gimme a few minutes.”

  “Of course, padawan.”

  Tholme sometimes did that, dropped little bits of trivia any time something jogged his memory, and he didn’t often mean anything by it; even with this in mind, Obi-Wan can’t help but hope.

  Quinlan waits until the masters’ footsteps recede, before gently tugging on Obi-Wan’s nerftail until he looks up. “I’ve got an idea,” he says with a roguish grin, and Obi-Wan is young and stupid and scared, and knows exactly what he’s planning.

-

  “You ready?”

  “This is probably illegal, Quinlan.”

  “Not according to Master Nu, it isn’t.”

  “Well, I’m probably going to Stewjoni hell anyways, I guess.”

  “Before we do this, I need you to promise me something, Obi-Wan.”

  “...”

  “We can’t let this get in the way, we can’t... We’re almost knights, Obi, we’ve worked too hard to lose that now. We’ll always have to come second to the Order, you understand that, right?”

  “Quinlan Vos, are you backing out on me? This was your idea.”

  “And you agreed! Stop laughing, I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, Quin. I’m somehow more ready now than I was ten minutes ago.”

  “Good. Because you know I would follow you anywhere.”

  “And I would follow you into this.”

  “Good. Now shut up and light the candle.”

-

  It’s Kit that brings Obi-Wan the datapad with all the forms for his induction onto the council, along with advice and a smile that makes Obi-Wan think maybe accepting the position had not been a mistake.

  Unlike either his master or his own padawan, Obi-Wan is efficient with his paperwork, he knows the quicker he gets it done, the more time he can spend not doing paperwork, just as he knows that to be thorough the first time is to avoid having to do it a second.

  Only one question on the forms gives him pause:

  Is the inductee married in any culture(s)’s customs, accidental or not?

  Well, it had been fifteen years since Quinlan had knotted a scrap of his own robes around Obi-Wan’s wrist, as Obi-Wan had done the same, and the Jedi Order is not made of fools, so he checkmarks the Yes box and adds Stewjoni below it, because he can’t imagine that at least the masters haven’t noticed by now.

(He would come to find that, no, they had not.)

-

i got a little carried away with this one, and didn’t entirely follow the prompt oops

[blackkatmagic]

obiwan and quinlan ending as partners by some mishap (mace going "they're on a undercover mission together as /what/??" after they already on their way) and like, you can't say that instead of focusing on the mission they wouldnt just try to seduce the other asdjasjif god i can imagine they getting flustered but also being weirdly competitive asiojdasij

It would be a d i s a s t e r oh my god, I can’t stop laughing. They’d be the worst. There would be no living with either of them for the whole course of the mission. 

[gabriel4sam]

I ship obiwan with satine and quinlan

Under the cut, some rare threeway. It’s a little mature, but way less explicit than my usual stuff

It was when the swearing started in the cockpit, one hour in hyperspace after leaving Mandalore, that Quinlan knew they were in trouble. Not that he didn’t think his old friend unable to swear, he had known Obi-Wan too long to believe that, but as responsibilities piled on him, he saw less and less of the man behind the Councillor. “Why is it never easy with you?” Quinlan shouted in the direction of his fellow Jedi. The Duchess tried to stand up again from the bunk where Quinlan had healed her slight wounds, but he braced his arm against her. In his ears, the Force was howling warnings strong enough to deafen him. “Security position,” he yelled to her, trying to cover the howls and shrieks of a dying ship. Next time they needed a ship to discreetly rescue some royals Obi-Wan had a past with, against the Republic’s orders, Quinlan would be the one to find the ship. They crashed. Of course they fucking crashed. After Mandalore burning and the Death Watch and the Sith and Satine’s sister getting killed helping them escape… And don’t start Quinlan about the earful the Council would give them when they got back from that definitely not authorized mission. If they came back one day, because the ship would certainly not help them. But, in all their problems, he supposed there could have been worst parts of the galaxy for a crash than a beach on an inhabited moon. Plenty of fish. Warm nights. A spring that feed a creek, offering freshwater. Bushes covered in berries. Trees that gave them succulent fruits. That could almost be considered vacations. If it hadn’t been with the two most exasperating person in the whole galaxy. Perhaps even in the whole kriffin universe!!They bickered all kriffin day. By the time it was time for sleep and they retired for the night, Quinlan was generally exhausted to listen to them and ready to kill someone. Preferably one of those two idiots stranded here with him, even if he normally adored Obi-Wan and would do crazy things just to make him smile. He understood the Duchess, of course. Since their teenage years, bickering had been a pretty important part of his friendship with Obi-Wan. But Quinlan could act like an adult when necessary, no matters what the rumours pretended about him, and he knew when pulling pigtails was more or less appropriate, and when it wasn’t. He could have forgiven them if they had used a part of their energy in interesting ways. He would have taken long walks on the beach or fished their dinner to leave them alone, but he had quickly understood that sexual tension and bickering were their only way of expressing themselves. “Unbelievable,” He grumbled, as he saw again and again the gazes Obi-Wan gave the Duchess when she wasn’t looking, just before adding a sarcasm when she turned to him. And she was exactly the same. He would have thought a planetary ruler would be smarter. Not that she was an idiot. Quinlan had quickly come to appreciate her quick mind, her conversation. She was a woman he respected. When she wasn’t trying to make him crazy with the help of his oldest friend. That needed an intervention. For their own good and for his poor ears, before he snapped and killed someone. Was it slightly manipulative of him to use the teaching of Master Tholme to push those two idiots together, when his old Master had taught him all of that to make the galaxy a better place with the less lethal force possible, pushing people on the good path? Yes, it was. Quinlan didn’t care. He also should have realized manipulating two very smart people, one who knew him pretty well, in having sex, was very different from manipulating a pirate into giving him the information he needed, or an officer in a backwater world in helping take to trial the local dictator. For once, he was way more involved. Way more attached. When they received signal from a Republic ship and understood they would be rescued in two days, he knew it was time for drastic measures. Obi-Wan and Satine needed to be together before the ship arrived, or they never would. Even if Quinlan had to use all his arsenal of tricks. The next morning, when he woke up between two naked bodies, his heart had a painful jump in his chest. Game over. He had won. They were together now, they wouldn’t need him anymore. It was time he took his pieces out of the game, now that he had given them the final push. He wiggled slowly out of their grasp. He would make himself a bed under a grove of tree and let them have the ship. He really hope the Republic found them soon, he needed to take some missions. Difficult ones, which would engage his brain. Difficult ones, far away from…Satine’s arms locked themselves around his torso again. He gasped and looked and, yes, she was awake. “Idiot,” she said gently. “Shh, don’t wake him,” Quinlan murmured, because Obi-Wan could be strange about intimacy and attachment and it would be so much easier for him to admit Satine was what he wanted if he woke up with her alone, and not also with the male friend they just had a crazy threesome with. “Idiot,” Obi-Wan murmured too behind Quinlan and the Kiffar bit his lips. Too late. He opened his mouth, already searching for ideas to rescue the situation and make them see they were perfect for each other, when Satine surged against him and kissed him. Quinlan answered to the kiss before remembering he wasn’t supposed to anymore, but she didn’t let him go when he tried to break it, digging her hands in his dreads. Behind him, Obi-Wan has started to kiss his way down Quinlan’s neck. “Listen,” Quinlan started once his mouth was free but Obi-Wan made a negative noise and bit his shoulder. At the same time, the red head wrapped his hand around Quinlan’s morning erection. “You’re supposed to be with each other,” Quinlan protested, but they only responded with a laugh. “We are,” Satine said. She has never been more beautiful, hair a mess and all freckles that the sun made come out, and Quinlan had difficulties remembering he wasn’t supposed to touch anymore. “We have been for years,” Obi-Wan confirmed from behind the other man’s shoulder, slowly caressing Quinlan. He stopped, and Quinlan groaned in frustration. When Obi-Wan offered his palm, he licked it without questions, making it nicely wet. Obi-Wan wrapped it around Quinlan again. The Kiffar had forgotten his idea about leaving the bunk. Behind him, he could feel Obi-Wan lazily frotting his own hard cock against his ass. “But…the sarcasms!” Another laugh. This time, when Satine kissed him, Quinlan opened to her without other protestation. “Don’t tell me bickering with me doesn’t give you interesting ideas,” Obi-Wan teased against his ear, “it’s more or less the same thing.”Quinlan frowned. “Did you let me believe you weren’t together just to make me crazy?”“You’re cute when you’re exasperated,” Satine smiled. “Perhaps we were vexed you thought us so moronic,” Obi-Wan added, “or perhaps we were trying to know if you were interested yourself in more than playing matchmaker.” He had made Quinlan nicely hard and his hand abandoned his friend’s cock, went to guide Satine closer. She threw a leg around Quinlan’s hips. He could feel how wet she was against him. “Say yes,” Obi-Wan whispered against his ear. “Force, yes,” Quinlan whined and he let himself be caught by them, falling with joy in his own trap.

[spectral-musette]

pretty please ficlet ask: duchess and knight get a moment together to talk. obiwan is evasive. satine listens to obiwan's heart and realizes he's lying about his feelings for her.

I don’t know why this took me so long to write, but I was really struggling with it for some reason. In the end, I went off prompt a little (he isn’t evading very well in this).

(~1800 words)

(Following “Pursuit of Peace”)

           Satine’s trip to Coruscant was almost over, and none too soon, she mused, stepping out of her Senate pod and into the bustling corridor. Though she stayed aboard the Coronet on her trips to the Galactic center, she still found herself longing for the serenity of Sundari.

           Coruscant had its charms, to be sure, being full of diversions; galleries, plays, interplanetary cuisine. Even the tedious hours in the Senate had their bright points. She had enjoyed spending time with Padme and her circle. It was a relief to be surrounded by so many like-minded politicians for once, who valued peace and truly cared not only for their own homeworlds, but worked to alleviate suffering anywhere in the galaxy. The ties amongst Padme’s allies ran stronger than political expediency; Padme and Bail Organa were undoubtedly very devoted friends, and the genuine cordiality and fondness extended to the others, like the young senators Mon Mothma and Riyo Chuchi.

           The particular friendship between the beautiful Padme and the very married Bail had set idle tongues to wagging. This was sheer nonsense, of course, as anyone with even passing familiarity with humanoid behavior would testify on seeing the contrast between Padme’s friendly warmth towards Bail and the heated glances she shared with the dashing young Jedi, Skywalker.

           And on the topic of handsome Jedi, this particular trip to Coruscant had afforded far less of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s company than Satine had hoped. She checked her datapad for any messages she might’ve missed during the Senate session as she walked, flanked by her guards. Nothing new, but she scrolled down to his last missive, which she’d received just before her arrival on Coruscant.

           Headed out of the Core in the esteemed company of one Quinlan Vos. No doubt it shall be as memorable as our exploits in our padawan days, in the worst way. I hope to return before you leave Coruscant, but I’m afraid I can’t promise it. Stay safe.

           The message made her smile, picturing the show of exasperation Obi-Wan would put on for the benefit of his childhood friend as they worked together on their mission. The admonishment at the end might’ve seemed ironic coming from a man who spent most of his days in active war zones, but the all too recent attacks on Bail and Padme made it rather less so.

           Not that she didn’t have faith in the Protectors who took up the duty as royal guards, but after the death of Aramis in the sabotaged speeder, Coruscant seemed even less secure than Mandalore.

           As if in response to her anxious thoughts, Obi-Wan appeared, stepping out of a lift into the busy corridor. His determined scowl lifted at the sight of her, and she felt her face flush and her heartbeat quicken a little as he strode towards her. His posture had the rigidity that she knew meant he was fighting weariness, and the reddish mud dried on his boots suggested that he’d come to the Senate building directly after planetfall from his mission. She extended a hand, and he closed the distance between them to grasp it like a lifeline.

           “I’m relieved to find you well, my lady.” He clasped her hand in both of his, and his eyes were earnest. “I’ve been given permission from the Council to accompany you for the rest of your stay and escort you back to Mandalore, if you wish.”

           Satine couldnt help but wonder if any members of the Jedi Council suspected…

           Qui-Gon had been rather closely acquainted with her feelings for Obi-Wan, but she felt sure he would have kept the strictest confidence on the matter.

           And Anakin had very likely overheard their confessions during the incident with the traitorous Merrik, but she suspected that Obi-Wan’s protégé would be just as unlikely to tell the Council about it.

          Well, probably she was just considered a difficult dignitary best left to the charm of her old friend the Negotiator.

           “Not to sound ungrateful for your concern, but I believe the immediate threat has passed. Didn’t you hear that the parties responsible for the attacks were apprehended?”

           “The mercenaries, yes, my lady, but not those who engaged their services.”

           “Well, that’s not really a mystery, is it?” It had not been the first time Count Dooku had used underhanded means to sabotage any movement towards a peaceful resolution of the war, and she very much doubted it would be the last.

           “Indeed not. And all the more reason that the leader of the Council of Neutral Systems should have some additional security.”

           “I will never argue too much against your company, Master Kenobi.”

           “Then I shall endeavor not to vex you so much as to make you a liar, my dear Duchess.”

           “I’ll be sure to inform you when I’m vexed.”

           He chuckled softly and took her arm.

           In her study on the Coronet, Satine lifted off her headdress and set to work pulling the lilies out of her hair. She laid them on the desk in a pile, and, as she combed her fingers through her hair, she turned to see Obi-Wan lifting one lily to breathe in its fragrance. She smiled.

           “I’ll give you a bulb if you’d like to start one. They’re quite easy to grow.”

           “I’d like that very much,” he confessed, with a little chagrined smile at being caught as he placed the bloom back on the desk. “Though it might seem a shame to raise them only to deny them the honor of being twined in your hair.”

           “Even I can’t wear every lily in the galaxy.”

           He smiled slightly, eyes still on the flowers on the desk.

           “May I ask something of you?” She looked at him intently.

           “Name it.” His tone was light, but she liked the reflexive trust of his quick response.

           “Would you…would you take off the armor?”

           He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose there isn’t enough immediate risk of battle droids to warrant it.”

           “Saying that seems like bad luck, considering the last time you were aboard the Coronet. But, all the same…”

           He pulled off the gauntlets, setting them on the desk next to the flowers, and then started unfastening the bracers, a tendril of hair falling across his forehead as he worked.

           “Let me,” she offered, stepping around the desk.

           He looked surprised, but he didn’t protest, standing patiently, quite still as she stripped one arm and shoulder, then the other, until only the chest plate remained. She rested her hands on his shoulders, fingering the fastening.

           “It’s not exactly Mandalorian, but it’s close enough to hurt,” she confided, meeting his eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze back to the armor.

           “I had wondered if you felt that way,” he admitted, voice grave and gentle.

           “I like that it keeps you safe,” she conceded, flicking the fastener open. “But I hate seeing you in it.”

           The effectof the dark, closely fitted clothing he wore under the armor with the Jeditabard was still a bit foreign, but better than the bone-white armor that now lay in a heap like the discarded exoskeleton of some sea creature.

           “I can change into my regular tunics,” he offered, noting her regarding him skeptically.

           “Later,” she agreed. She ran her hands over his shoulders, ostensibly smoothing his tabard. He was wiry still, but he’d filled out since his youth, in bone and sinew if not in flesh. She wondered…

           “If I didn’t know better, I might suspect you were undressing me with your eyes just now,” he accused, tone light and a smile quirking under that infernal beard.

           “Point of fact, I was just doing it with my hands,” she countered, sliding her fingers under the tabard over his heart and tugging him a step closer.

           “Satine.”

           “Don’t scold me.”

           “I just said your name.”

           “It was the way you said it.”

           “And how should you prefer…”

           “Don’t make offers you won’t make good on,” she warned, pushing back lightly against his shoulders, though he stayed stubbornly in place.

           “I didn’t,” he countered. His expression was carefully blank, but his eyes were intense.

           “I think it’s only fair to tell you,” she said, “that I’m starting to feel a little bit vexed.”

           He caughther by the elbows, pulling her close and pressing his forehead to hers.

           “Satine,” he breathed, sweetly.

           She laced her fingers behind his neck, holding him fast as she covered his mouth with hers quickly, before either of them could speak again and break the spell.

           His hands in her hair… his breath in her mouth… the warmth of his arms enfolding her, his body pressed against her…

           It was all like water after long years in the desert.

           He broke the kiss too soon, stepping away and leaving her stumbling, trying to catch her balance and her breath.

           He paced in front of her, nervous, running a trembling hand over his beard again and again.

           “Forgive me. Don’t know what I … I can’t … ”

           He was babbling, nonsensical.

           “Obi-Wan,” she interrupted, patient. “I kissed you.”

           He looked up, startled. “Did you? I was quite certain it was the other way around.”

           “We could try again and find out,” she suggested.

           “Nothing else for it.” He held out a hand to her, and she went to him.

           This time, she was not at all sure. They persisted, without much clarity.

           Breathless, she curled against him, resting her temple against the arm he had wrapped around her and looking up into his eyes.

           “Your chin is all red,” he observed apologetically, brushing his fingertips soothingly over it.

            She returned the gesture, stroking the offending whiskers. “I’ll recover.”

            “Probably not in time.”

            “In time for what?”

            He kissed her again, exquisitely softly.

            “I love you,” she whispered, when he let her breathe again.

She felt his arms around her go a little rigid, and she wondered if she shouldn’t have said it. Maybe it seemed to him that she wanted more of him than he could give, and he would retreat, put up his barriers again.

            But he only held her closer. Perhaps, after all, he was just thinking of the last time she’d said it, the fear and the danger and the desperation.

            Not so now, though.

            “I love you,” she repeated.

            He cupped her face in his hands, his touch tender, his eyes soft.

            “Satine, you know I can’t make vows to you.”

            “I didn’t ask…”

            “But you deserve them. You deserve a whole life, not just stolen moments and borrowed days and distance and heartache.”

            “What you think I deserve is irrelevant. Have I no say in it? Have you?”

            He buried his face in her hair, his breath hot and uneven.

            “If my choice is to have only the moments I can steal, or nothing, of course I want them.” She tangled herfingers in his hair. “A day, an hour with you is more than a lifetime with anyone else.”

            He drew back a little, studying her face with a kind of solemn wonderment.

            “Then I suppose we must count every moment as precious.”