“What are you reading there so attentively? Or are you already brooding, starting to regret it, huh?” Anakin smirked halting the landspeeder near their house. Obi-Wan looked up from the piece of flimsy in his hands, bearing a large stamp of Anchorhead civil registry office.
“I am only making sure again that there are no misprints. Do you always have to tease me?”
“Of course,” Anakin replied honestly. He was happy, and that meant giddy and more impetuous than usual. “And now you’ve signed your life sentence with your own hand!”
“Just imagine what Yoda will tell you when we see him again,” he added with feigned sympathy. “One of the best Jedi Masters you were, young Obi-Wan, but forgotten the Jedi way completely in your exile you have! Why married your old padawan have you, for the Sith’s sake?!”
“I strongly doubt that for the Sith’s sake is an expression from Master Yoda’s vocabulary,” Obi-Wan remarked, unperturbed.
“Whatever. But you can always tell him that you did it for undercover purposes and all, and his opinion of you will remain unwavered,” Anakin wholeheartedly assured.
Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes wide with surprise.
“Why in the galaxy should I tell anyone, even Master Yoda, that I married the man I love for undercover purposes?”
Anakin met his gaze, his own cheeky grin softening into a gentle smile and an almost shy expression shining in his eyes.
“Come on, Obi-Wan,” he said, running a light finger over Obi-Wan’s cheekbone. “You’ve got a sunburn here again and it can get worse if not treated right now. And besides,” he could not help another smirk. “Taking care of your sunburn is not the only thing I intend to do to you before Luke is back home from the Larses.”
He jumped down to the ground and waited for Obi-Wan to follow, then firmly grasped his hand and led him to the house.