#god them

my wife his husband and their pet dog

Kevin helping Seth in the background 🥺 + bonus:

Pressing kisses along Obi-Wan's hairline, Quin fights back tears.  

“You did ... really good,” he says. “Excellent student, as always.”  

A laugh burbles in the back of Obi-Wan's throat as he nuzzles Quin’s neck. They clean up and lay in the twilight haze of it for a long time. They don’t need to talk, really. It’s all said. Sometime later, after they’ve both dozed, Quin catches a glimpse of Obi-Wan's body in a slice of scarlet from an ambulance speeder driving by the window. Signs of life bolster Quin’s hope and his heart both. Obi-Wan breathes softly in and out of his nose. Quin brushes a thumb over Obi-Wan's wrist and finds a strong pulse there. A bruise blooms on his neck—Quin's own work. Obi-Wan's elevated Force presence still crackles in the air, and when Quin runs his knuckles across warm skin, silver sparks again. The hair stands up on the back of his neck, and it reminds him of Kiffu right before a lightning storm. Someone might ask, how do you love this eldritch prophet who could so easily slip through your fingers? But that’s never been the question that Quin asks himself. 

He loves Obi-Wan before he loves the Chosen One. Obi-Wan loves him before he loves the prodigy.  

Tonight, Quinlan Vos, psychometric genius, so they say, doesn’t search for death. He doesn’t find it in the depths of his own mind or between the ribs of the person he loves most in all this galaxy. Obi-Wan is hunted, and Quinlan might be breaking the curse Tinte tried to give him, even if the work isn’t done yet, but in here? In here, no one can touch them.  

A craving, deep in the pit of his stomach, consumes the rest of him, and he straddles a dozing Obi-Wan. Blinking, Obi-Wan chuckles at the sight of him, one hand coming up to rest on Quin's cheek.