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Obi-Wan wakes tangled in bedsheets (his) and limbs (some his, some not). He has a moment of disorientation and then memories from the night before flood back. He flushes and feels a mix of mortified and sheepish and yet satisfied and if Anakin wasn't sleeping on his hand, he'd be tempted to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation. But—Obi-Wan glances down at the head of tousled dark blond hair resting on his chest with affection—he is, so Obi-Wan contents himself with a mental put-upon sigh, though even that is tinged with fondness.

Kenobi, what were you thinking? He's well into his fourth decade; he should have enough self-control not to jump into bed with his former Padawan. But Anakin always was his exception; he probably always will be. The other man makes his own rules and seems able to even bend the will of the galaxy to his desires at times. Obi-Wan supposes that that's due to his absurdly high midichlorian count.

Then he sobers, remembering the other issue they had clashed over before they'd ended up in bed. He'd known that Anakin wasn't coping well with his appointment to the Council, of course, but he hadn't realized the extent. Anakin had been so pleased at his Knighting and had thrived so much on having full autonomy (even though the Council chided him on his rashness more often than not) that when they had been paired back together for a couple of joint missions, the dynamic between them had already felt different even though it had only been a couple of months. There was no longer that underlying restlessness and frustration that had emanated from Anakin in those last years of his Apprenticeship; he seemed more settled in his skin and confident of his place in the Order. And without the worry of having to teach Anakin the right things, Obi-Wan had been able to relax himself.

They'd been able to debate over the exact meaning of their orders, their mission objectives, their ideas for approaches, and even, once, their interpretations of the Code without biting each other's heads off. It was refreshing. Obi-Wan hadn't realized how much of his opinions Anakin had been holding back during his training but it was evidently quite a bit. He had started encouraging Anakin to voice his thoughts out of curiosity but found himself truly enjoying their discourses and initiating them for their own sake. It wasn't, to be honest, something he had expected to ever be able to have with his sometimes-surly now-former Padawan.

Things had gone very well for a time and Obi-Wan had thought that they were progressing from a Master and former-Padawan relationship to a friendship between equals. But then he was elected to the Council and while Anakin had enthusiastically congratulated him and teased him about being "old enough to be considered wise," there were days when Anakin seemed to resent everything Obi-Wan said to him, whether they were Council orders or not.

"Obi-Wan, I can practically hear you thinking," the subject of his contemplation groans, breaking into his thoughts. "It's far too early for that beautiful brain of yours to start working. Can't you stop it?" He shifts his body closer, though Obi-Wan can't fathom how he even found the space to do so, and rubs his cheek against Obi-Wan's chest. Metal fingers skate lightly over his abs and side.

"Sorry, dear one, you know I'm an early riser," Obi-Wan says with a small smile, willing his preoccupations away. His voice comes out a little scratchy and he blames their activities of the night before; hearing it makes him aware of the languidness and the pleasant soreness of his muscles that follow a round of...well, rather a different kind of exercise than fighting in a battle.

"Well, what are you thinking about then?" Anakin mumbles, sounding a little sleepy still.

"Us, actually. Here, budge up a bit so I can move my arm. You're quite heavy, you know."

"Hey!" Anakin complains lowly but shifts anyway. Except he moves so that instead of curling up against Obi-Wan's side (and on top of his right arm), he's lying almost all the way across his chest. He also entangles their legs together even more and Obi-Wan gives up on the possibility of getting up any time soon.

"Oh yes, this is really much better," Obi-Wan snarks. But he does stretch his now free arm out with a sigh of relief and lets it drape over Anakin's back. He can feel the other man smirk against his skin and press a kiss over his heart. Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "You're almost more trouble than you're worth."

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure I'm worth quite a bit. Or at least the Seps seem to think so." Anakin teases but now that Obi-Wan's listening more closely, he detects a hint of insecurity under it.

"You are worth more than quite a bit," he says seriously rather than continue the light-hearted banter. He thinks that it's perhaps time he and Anakin stopped talking around things with witty comebacks and sarcasm.

Anakin's breath hitches—it's very slight and if he wasn't almost completely wrapped around him, Obi-Wan doubts he would have picked up on it. "Oh," he says softly. He pauses and the fingers of his prosthetic move up to trail along Obi-Wan's arm. Then he asks almost hesitantly, "So what was it about us that you were thinking about? Are you...having second thoughts? Regrets?"

"No, not that," Obi-Wan says firmly, squeezing his other arm tight around Anakin. He gets a small thrill at the skin to skin contact but sets it aside as a distraction he can't have right now. "I was thinking that you were right last night. We don't talk much. As just us. And we should, because I'm getting the sense that there's a lot we're not saying to each other." Anakin's fingers twitch against his arm and he draws in a sharp breath. Obi-Wan hurries to say, "I'm not saying you have to tell me everything . Not if you don't want to. But if we don't start talking again, we'll be divided. And—"

"—that makes us weak," Anakin finishes. Obi-Wan nods, though he knows that Anakin can't see it since his face is still turned away, towards his metal fingers which idly flex and resume their light stroking of Obi-Wan's skin.

Both of them stay quiet for some minutes, but it's a thoughtful silence that descends on them.

Eventually, Obi-Wan decides to broach the longest-standing issue. "You don't like that I'm on the Council."

"What?" Anakin asks, sounding genuinely startled. "No. Well, kind of. But it's not...I mean..." he trails off and Obi-Wan quirks his lips in a wry grin while he waits for him to gather his thoughts. Typical Anakin, speaking first and then thinking after. "I think it's great that you're on the Council. You're the best Jedi in the Order and you've got more field experience than anyone else on there. They're lucky to have you," Anakin finally says.

"And yet?" Obi-Wan prompts. He decides to set aside Anakin's perception of him being the best for now; there are far greater Masters than him in the Order but he can correct him later. There are more important matters they need to clear up first.

"And yet...I don't like that I have to answer to you again," Anakin says slowly. Then he tenses and his voice starts climbing when he speaks again. "You were the only person in the Temple I could really talk to and now every time I talk to you, I feel like I'm talking to a member of the Council instead of just you and I have to be careful of what I say or else I could get pulled up in front of the full Council to be reprimanded! It isn't fair! They could have taken anyone else, any other Jedi, but no. It had to be you. Of course it had to be you. They never wanted you to train me to begin with. They probably think they need to keep you away from my dangerousness !" He stops abruptly on a shout, breathing harshly. His hand closes into a fist and thumps down against the mattress. The Force seems to gather itself and loom over them, waiting for release.

Obi-Wan waits, keeping his heartbeat and breathing calm and steady, while Anakin forcibly takes deep breaths and flattens and flexes and flattens his hand against the bedsheets. Gradually, the build up in the Force ebbs away. "Anakin, look at me," he requests when it feels like Anakin has his emotions back under control.

Anakin grumbles but shifts around so that they're chest to chest and props himself up with his arms on either side of Obi-Wan. A distant part of him appreciates the bulge of Anakin's biceps and the golden tone of his skin. The sheets are still tangled hopelessly around their legs and probably this is not the best setting for a conversation like this but it's a bit late to change that. He wrenches his thoughts back onto the appropriate path because Anakin's looking at him with a quirked eyebrow and defiance shining in his eyes.

"When we talk, it's just you and me. Anything personal you have to or want to say to me will stay between us, I promise. I don't report our conversations to the Council unless they're directly related to mission objectives. I'm sorry that I didn't make this clear to you earlier, Anakin. I'm on your side. I always have been and I always will be. You can trust in that. The Council isn't taking me from you. There's no way that they could even if they were trying to." He holds Anakin's intense gaze, trying to send his complete sincerity to the other man through the thin remnants of their old training bond. He can't, at this point, do anything about being on the Council (even though he hadn't ever thought he would be on it and sometimes isn't certain that he should be on it, it's already been years and he's helped with long-term strategy planning so leaving now would be a dereliction of duty that he refuses to commit) but he resolves to keep that role separate from his personal interactions with Anakin.

Anakin finally jerks his head in a sharp nod and looks down. He stares contemplatively at the dip in Obi-Wan's throat and Obi-Wan can feel the atmosphere in the room changing. He doesn't know if Anakin is deliberately trying to avoid further conversation or if this is just one of his usual mood changes. But when Anakin looks back up at him again, his eyes are indeed darkened and hooded, pupils dilated with desire. The Force feels heated around them. He smirks, licks his lips, and slowly grinds his hips down. Obi-Wan sucks in a breath, feeling himself responding to Anakin's growing hardness quicker than he would have thought possible. He briefly considers trying to resume their conversation but he suspects that whether or not this change in direction is conscious on Anakin's part, it's a sign that the other man's had all the emotional talks he can handle right now. And frankly, so have I , Obi-Wan thinks. They should meditate and release their residual feelings into the Force but well, maybe this time, they could try releasing tension in a more enjoyable way.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters as he clasps one hand on Anakin's shoulder to ground himself. It's a good thing he's already laying down, a part of him thinks giddily, or else he'd have gone lightheaded from the sudden rush of blood down to his groin.

Anakin chuckles and leans down to take his lips in a kiss that's gentler than the ones they'd shared the night before.

Obi-Wan lets himself revel in the moment until the kiss ends and then he lightly squeezes his shoulder to get his attention. "Just one thing," he says when he has it.

"Mhm?"

"This is important so I want you to remember it. If ever we're being intimate and I suggest something or do something that you don't like or aren't comfortable with, I want you to tell me."

"Yeah, okay."

"Right away, Anakin," he says with emphasis.

"Do you really think there's something you could do that I wouldn't like?" Anakin asks, looking mildly amused.

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows in mock consternation. "There's a lot that can be done between two people, Anakin. Are you saying you've tried them all?"

"Are you ?" Anakin looks like he's torn between delight and scandalized.

"I guess we'll just have to find out," Obi-Wan says with a smirk of his own. He tugs Anakin into another kiss and thinks that this is worth the trouble they're going to get into when the Council finds out. A small but growing part of him thinks that actually, this could be worth leaving the Order for. One day.