Obidobe

“Surprised Rex agreed to.” Jaster jostled him slightly, “Always used to hate going on supply runs.”

Ben shrugged and slipped off the tailgate, gently poking Jaster in the stomach with a grin. “Maybe I’m better company.” 

“Not with your taste in music, son.” Jaster rolled his eyes before turning to Rex, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Have fun. Don’t let him have control of the radio. For your sanity.” 

“I’m not that bad!” When Jaster finally walks away Ben turns to him, slamming the tailgate close. “I promise. I’m not that bad.”

Rex snorted, “We’ll see. Let’s get going.” 

—

He wasn’t sure if his feelings about Ben’s song choices had to do with the fact he actually liked the music or because he found the man attractive. As many times before growing up, Rex had his socked feet hanging out of the passenger window, gazing out as the trees, fields of wheat, and plains full of animals grazing whipped past them. He shifted his head enough to look across the middle at Ben. He had one hand on the bottom right curve of the steering wheel with the other hanging out of the window. His hair tie was trying its best to keep his hair together, but it was failing, strands whipping around his face. He didn’t seem to mind it, just relaxed back against the seat softly singing to whatever song came onto the radio. He was effortlessly beautiful even after almost 4 hours of work. Rex forced himself to look away, getting comfy and then closing his eyes to feel the wind against his face. Over the ride to town and lunch while Wiley had their truck loaded he had learned Ben was only here until early August and then he was off to London, amongst many other topics. As handsome and interesting as he was, Rex knew it was a bad idea to pursue something that had a permanent expiration date. He barked out a laugh at the absurdity of the thought Ben would even be remotely interested. 

Something warm and a little rough fell against his arm, followed by a quiet question, no longer drowned out by the music. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Thought of something humorous.”

Ben returned to focus on the road and withdrew his hand slowly, resting a bit on the center console. His left hand was curled on the top of the wheel now, a little smile curved on his lips. “Care to share?”

Admit he had been thinking about how it’d feel to kiss him, to hold his hand, and all of the rest of the romantic no-good stuff? As well as tell him he had thought the possibility of that was so impossible it was almost hilarious? Absolutely not. “I had a good time today. Thank you for inviting me.” 

“It was fun. We should do it again sometime.” Ben nudged him slightly with his elbow, grinning. “Even if you like tarter and hot sauce with your fries.”

“You put ketchup on your fish sandwich. Sir, you have no room to talk.” 

“Ketchup is a god-tier condiment.” 

“For toddlers.”

Ben gasped with his hand raising to press against his chest as if clutching imaginary pearls. “How dare!” 

He had been called down to the navigation class Cody was in, Alpha-17 saying something about the boy being extra twitchy, mumbling under his breath and clutching at his forehead as if in pain. Obi-wan had barely received the warning in the force before the two shots were fired, Cody standing there holding out Alpha’s stolen blaster. He hadn’t remembered much after that, just the odd feeling of empty coldness radiating from Cody, the pain of being shot in the chest, and Jango’s panic through their soul mark. 

Boba had been there when he had woken up from surgery, sitting against his thigh playing with a soft block. His father and he had been asked to leave shortly after so he could be looked over. And he hadn’t seen either of them since. On one hand, he was glad, for it meant he had time to process all that was learned from that small chip taken from Cody’s mind. Now Cody was full of warmth once again and Jango was muted, wherever he was now. Obi-wan let go of the data pad in his right hand to shift onto his side with a grimace, but then Cody was held to his chest, nose just brushing the bandage on the side of the young boy’s head. He stared across the way at the small box he knew the chip to be. It had taken Anakin longer than he would have liked to look into it with the help of a few of the older clones. Amongst the number of orders was one to kill the Jedi because they were considered traitors. He forced himself to close his eyes, cutting his vision from the accursed thing. At least they knew now and were slowly dechipping the rest of the boys, trying their best to do it as quickly as they safely could.