#struggling very badly today and thinking about Anakin being there for me is bringing me some comfort
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cosmic-ships · 28 days ago
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I feel like Anakin would know just by my body language that I wasn't doing okay. Of course he would ask me if I am and my response would only solidify his theory that I'm struggling again.
He knows my tells, how my voice seems to change but if you're not paying attention it just seems like a normal response. "I'm doing good~" no, no I'm not, my tone was forced and a little higher pitched than normal.
I feel like he wouldn't flat out just tell me "you're lying" or "No you're not" instead, he'd say nothing at first and wrap me up into a big hug, giving me one of those long hard squeezes I usually love when I'm not doing okay.
Then he'd finally says "It's okay to not be okay. You don't always have to mask it and pretend that you're fine, you're allowed to feel whatever it is your feeling. It's not weak to feel bad.."
He knows he got through when I just start crying my eyes out into his chest. Regardless if I know why I'm feeling the way I am or not and he would just hold me and let me feel what I feel without words, without judgements. If I wanted to talk about it he would gladly listen to all of my doubts and worries and he would do everything he could to reassure me through everything. He'd rub my back gently and hold me close.
He's just there for me. I never feel like I'm all alone in what I go through when he is here.
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justprettyqueer · 8 years ago
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Littly Kitty
The council sends Obi-Wan to look for Anakin who seems to have forgotten about his responsibilities again. Obi-Wan fulfills his task dutifully. Or he doesn't. Because maybe Anakin is sick and needs more attention than anyone can give, and poor, patient Obi-Wan loves him very much.
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Read it on AO3.
Thousand thanks and a lot of love to foldzworld for beta'ing this!
In case you find any mistakes or have any ideas what I could have done better, please tell me! I really want to improve.
"But I'm sick.”
It all had begun with the council sending Obi-Wan to look for Anakin. Of course, they would have sent Obi-Wan. And of course, Obi-Wan wouldn't have dared to reject a task given to him by the Jedi masters. Anakin hadn't shown up to report to the council after coming back from a mission. Nor had he answered his comlink, and nobody had the nerve to search for that annoying little child. Except for Obi-Wan. Who, being completely honest did not have the nerve to do so as well. He just didn't bother to complain, knowing nobody else would do this task. Could do this task? And Anakin was his apprentice after all. Well, technically, Anakin wasn't even a padawan anymore. But first of all he still called Obi-Wan master, and second, he behaved like one, so why not call him that?
Obi-Wan sighed, before gently knocking at Anakin's door. Either he was here, in his room of their shared apartment, or he was at Padme's. Obi-Wan would check the other  right afterwards. He didn't receive an answer, so he knocked again, a bit louder this time, and softly calling Anakin's name. The young Jedi may have simply chosen not to hear him the first time around, but still there was no answer . He thought about his options for a brief moment, then he shoved the door open and glanced into the room. There he was. Lying in his bed, sleeping, his nose red and eyes swollen,  with  strands of sweat damp hair falling onto his face. Obi-Wan sighed again as he walked towards the bed, looking into a calm, peaceful face one last time. This was how he liked Anakin most: asleep. His beauty was easy to spot in this state, and no annoying words nor doings would disturb the fair face of a child, trying only his best, knowing his best was never going to be enough. It almost pitied him to wake Anakin up. But what had to be done, had to be done, and it was not like Obi-Wan found joy in looking at his sleeping padawan anyway. “Anakin!”, Obi-Wan called, carefully shaking his apprentice awake. “Anakin, you have to get up.” And it was only a moment later that Anakin opened his eyes, grumbling something Obi-Wan couldn't understand, only to shut them again right away. “Anakin, why didn't you come to report  your mission? The council isn't very fond of your constant delays and  absences.” Another grumble. Something, that sounded like a whimper.
“I'm sick. I can't leave my rooms”, Anakin finally answered, looking at Obi-Wan through his still half shut eyes.. “You're sick? Anakin, you haven't been sick since you were eleven!” “Yeah, and now I am.  And now you're  here you have to make me tea.” “I have to...? You don't even like tea!” “I'm sick, so I need tea.” “Anakin, I've really got no nerves to deal with you acting like a little child today. Would you please be as kind as to come with me?” “No.” “Anakin.” “I want tea.” “You've really got to come with me now.” “But I'm sick!”
And here Obi-Wan stands now. Next to a bed which Anakin is lying in, refusing to do what he's told. Obi-Wan isn't quite sure what to do. He could carry Anakin to the council. He could just leave and let someone else deal with him. Or he could make tea, and care for that annoying little brat. Obviously, he chooses the third opportunity. With a sigh he leaves the room and enters the kitchen to boil the water. Which tea would Anakin want? Wondering why he is even doing this, he goes back, leaning in the doorway as he asks Anakin: “So what is it, that you think you have?” “I think it's fever and a cold. Maybe some kind of flu”, Anakin answers, now sitting in his bed, covered by a blanket even though it's quite warm in the room. He probably really is sick, after all. “All right, is there anything else I can do for you?” Why he is asking this, Obi-Wan can't tell. He doesn't want to know either. “Not at this particular moment, thanks”, Anakin answers, implying both by his chose of words and the way he stresses the 'particular' that there will indeed be something for Obi-Wan to do for him. A something that wouldn't be long to wait for. Obi-Wan again leaves the room, and again he sights, coming back with a steaming cup a minute later. Wordlessly he puts it onto the little cupboard table next to Anakin's bed, and before he has the time to say anything, a quiet, somewhat tired voice asks him to sit down right beside Anakin. “I want to cuddle. Cuddle with me, master”, Anakin demands. Cuddle. Anakin wants to cuddle. They haven't cuddled since Anakin was eleven. “We haven't cuddled since you were eleven.” Obi-Wan states. Well said, old man, well said... “Oh, come here, please!” He almost sounds like a child. Almost like he still is eleven... Sighting defeatedly Obi-Wan takes the blanket from Anakin's shoulders and lays back against the wall behind the bed. Letting Anakin put his head on his master's chest and wrap his arms around his master's body Obi-Wan covers them both. “You should drink your tea”, Obi-Wan rather suggests than commands, feeling everything but comfortable in his situation, uneasily holding his padawan because he forgot how to cuddle. “Let me hug you just a bit longer”, Anakin hums into Obi-Wan's sleeves. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but Obi-Wan can't deny it just feels good to be that near to his apprentice. To share this kind of closeness they've not shared since Anakin was only but a child. To just breath and feel and be each others warmth. Obi-Wan intended this hug to be a short one. But he can't force himself to let go of Anakin. He missed this. He would have never thought he had, but oh, how much he missed this. It is Anakin who finally breaks their togetherness, who finally moves and brings Obi-Wan back into reality. He takes the cup still standing on the cupboard and sips some tea. Then he leans back again, onto Obi-Wan, the cup of tea still in his hands; hot steam flowing past his eyes, setting little drops of water on his cheeks and lips. “You know the Little Kitty song?” Anakin asks. “Sing me the Little Kitty song.” “I can't sing.” “I don't believe you.” “I really can't sing.” “I don't mind.” “And I don't even know the song-” “Just listen...” And then Anakin hums a melody, quite and just to himself. He gets louder the second time the tune flows from his lips. The third time he sings, not getting every tone and his voice rough from the illness, but beautiful nonetheless, or beautiful to Obi-Wan's ears at least.
But he wouldn't even get to finish the fourth time, for a cough chases though his body, a hurtful noise that makes his whole body tremble. Tea spills over his chest and blanket. A painful scream escapes Anakin's mouth as the hot liquid meets his skin. As fast as he can Obi-Wan takes the cup with his right hand, the left one grips Anakin's shirt reflexively and pulls it up, so the hot cloth wouldn't touch the skin anymore. Putting the cup aside, Obi-Wan asks: “Are you alright? Anyhow, you have to get out of that shirt.” Anakin nods slightly in response, not making clear whether he means that he is okay or that he agrees on having taken that shirt off. Obi-Wan pulls it above Anakin's head and throws it aside. When he sees the red skin, worry hits him once more, and he immediately asks for Anakin's health once again. “Does it hurt badly? Do we need to get the healers?” And then, realising that since his former padawan is still struggling with body dysphoria quite often Anakin might maybe not be that comfortable with having his chest exposed, he adds: “You want to put something on first?” “What? Oh, no, it's fine... I think cloth touching it will only make it hurt more. It does hurt, however. Quite badly so. You better look for the medical kit.” And as soon as those words are spoken, Obi-Wan is about to leave the room to get some ointment. “Oh, and you've gotta bring me a new blanket as mine is spoiled”, Anakin calls after him.
When Obi-Wan enters the room again he can't help to admire Anakin's beauty for a brief moment. Letting his gaze flip over Anakin's trained body, up to his oh so pretty face, framed by long hair damp from sweat. Anakin seems to be really cold, all without the blanket now, and his chest seems to be even redder then before. Obi-Wan closes the distance with a few quick steps, and lets the blanket he brought from his room softly fall onto the bed. Anakin wraps himself tight into it, while somehow managing to leave his left breast and the parts of the right one bare, as to not touch the burned skin. Obi-Wan has to chuckle lightly despite the situation being anything but funny, except that Anakin does indeed look funny as he sits there staring at his Master and waiting for something to happen. “What?”, he asks, a slight note of insecurity it his rough voice. “Oh, nothing, my dear one”, Obi-Wan answers, and then he slowly starts applying ointment onto the red skin. While rubbing the cool salve in, he even starts humming the melody Anakin wanted him to sing just some minutes ago. Trying to remember it, trying to make what leaves his mouth sound like what is in his head. It doesn't sound perfect, but he manages well enough, just so that the melody is recognisable. He gets a bit louder the second time, and then he starts to sing. The tune flows from his lips, and he doesn't get every tone, he forgets the text at one point, and his voice breaks at another. He doesn't sing well. It doesn't sound good. Not really. Anakin likes it anyway, though. It's the first time he hears Obi-Wan sing. It's probably the first time Obi-Wan had sung since he was a child. And then Obi-Wan looks up and their eyes meet. The song breaks off. Greyish sea-blue stares into bright sky-blue. It's an eye contact that means something. It's an eye contact that means everything. It's an eye contact that longs for more. “This should work. Do you already feel better?” The moment is broken. Obi-Wan couldn't bear it anymore. He just had to look away, had to stop whatever was going on just then and there. Because it wasn't right. Because deep down he felt it was right. Because he knew it wasn't for him to decide what was right, and that over Anakin he might forget it. “It's okay. Thank you for singing to me, Master”, Anakin answers calmly, and Obi-Wan isn't sure whether that's a trace of disappointment in his voice. He almost sounds shy then. “Could you... Could you hold me once more, please? I'm just so cold.” “Don't you just want to put a shirt on?” Obi-Wan asks, trying to avoid any more contact than necessary. I would forget myself, and that I can't let happen. Not for my sake, but for his. I won't fail him. “I could. You'd still have to cuddle with me, though, because I am ill. Don't you think you can escape, old man.” Obi-Wan looks at Anakin in surprise, wondering where the shy, almost respectful tone from just a moment ago had gone to, and where that sudden recklessness had come from. He looks at Anakin a bit longer then, but his expression shifts from surprise to barely visible discomfort, while in his mind he is fighting a small little fight, and he can't stand the thought of losing. He will lose, though, he knows it with a clear certainty. He always will lose for Anakin. “Oh, come on, Master! Just cuddle with me already!” And again Anakin's tone has shifted, back to the whiny childish brat he is. That breaks the last defences, and Obi-Wan moves closer to Anakin, laying his arm around him. If we go down at last, at least we do so together. He doesn't say a word as Anakin rearranges his blanket, so that it covers them both. As Anakin presses tightly onto Obi-Wan's body, arms swung around Obi-Wan's chest, and face buried in Obi-Wan's neck. He lies like a baby in Obi-Wan's arms, and he shivers slightly despite being really hot. Without even thinking about it, Obi-Wan starts petting the other man's back, as in order to warm him a bit and calm him down. “You smell very good”, Anakin hums gently into his neck, and Obi-Wan can feel the soft warm breath against his skin. He doesn't know what to make of this. He doesn't know how to answer. He eventually decides to just pretend he didn't hear it. His face betrays him, though, and a soft red flush spreads across his cheeks. Obi-Wan is very happy Anakin can't see him right now. “I really like you.” The red deepens, and again Obi-Wan rather doesn't say anything. “I want to kiss you, Master.” That reckless stupid little child. Doesn't he know what he's doing? “Anakin”, Obi-Wan says slowly, as he can't just ignore it this time. “Try to sleep. It's the fever speaking, and tomorrow you will regret even have said as much. Rest now.” It must be the fever speaking, he tells himself, what else could it be? “I won't regret it. You will, maybe, if you don't already take this opportunity. And besides, I'm sick, so for god's sake, just let me. It might heal me, you know?” “Rather it would make me sick, too”, Obi-Wan replies nervously. Anakin laughs quietly, and then he's propped up on Obi-Wan's chest, and his lips press tender onto Obi-Wan's mouth. Obi-Wan lets it happen. And when Anakin parts and smiles fondly at him and lays back down into his old position, looking still very sick but also very happy, Obi-Wan can't even be angry, nor has he the heart to tell his former padawan, that, no, he didn't enjoy this, and no, he would rather not have it again. He loves him too much, and moments in which Anakin appears truly happy are seldom enough. He just sets a lightly placed kiss onto Anakin's forehead in return. Anakin's lips form another lazy smile as he hugs Obi-Wan tighter. Hugging seems like a good way to show your fondness without using words. And like that he falls asleep. It's warm and comfortable in Obi-Wan's arm. It just feels right to be in Obi-Wan's arm. And it feels safe to sleep in Obi-Wan's arm.
It's the first time since what feels like forever that Anakin sleeps calmly then.
And it's the first time since what feels like forever that Obi-Wan remembers the beauty of love.
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