#hobbytalks

Your body belonged to the Jedi, yes, but your heart belonged to someone else. Someone who was just as dooomed as yourself.

Having grown up at the Temple together hadn't made you oblivious to this man's looks. And though his eyes may have been hypnotizing, his voice a lullaby and his charm natural, it had been his kindness and warmth what had drawn you to him. Not that you had ever told him, of course. You couldn't. But you found yourself looking out for him at the Temple, sparring with him, meditating together and asking him out to the movies or whatever other innocent place you could go as friends. You'd bring him souvenirs from the places you visit, even if everytime he reminded you 'material things should not get ahold of your soul'.

But then the war had come. And suddenly the futility and vulnerability of your life had given you a sense of urgency. So you had kissed him unceremoniously at the hangar before you both left for your first mission. And ever since things had changed. It was like if all the caring and companionship you had grown for eachother throughout the year-long friendship had morphed—no, bastardized— into love.

Love. That thing that you were supposed not to feel. But this was war and exceptions had to be made to prevail under difficult circumstances.

So you lead armies and let yourself by led by their General. You would deceive enemies and the Jedi Order. You would bend traitors to their knees and do so yourself in the privateness of Master Kenobi's ship. To prevail.

What had began with urgency and desperation had turned tender and soft. And just as you found yourself fighting a battle with his tongue, using the Force to keep him below you and marking his skin with your nails; you also found yourself waking up next to him in complete peace, sending a pull through the Force to let him know you were alive and caring for his wounds in the late nights.

Suddenly the conviction that doomed you both to die a Jedi was the very same that allowed you to wake up with warm hands on your stomach and a strong chest on your back. It was all him: the prohibition and the solution. As was the war: your damnation and escape.

But while a ship in the galaxy was far from the rules of the Order, the Temple was not. In Coruscant things were still pretty much the same, as the high commands continued to live by the values so vehemently taught by the Order —the same ones you had vowed to obey—. So it had been a silent agreement that none of your outerspace arrangement would reach the halls of the capital.

Obi-wan seemed so tired when he arrived at the Council. You both had tried, and failed, to meet before. Just to get the frustration out of your systems and be able to pull up with a better face, but it had been impossible. So you sat next to him on the floor of the Council, as the elder masters continued to analyze the following battles. Obi-wan laid his head on your shoulder, and your hand crawled up to his nape to play with his hair. You liked it longer, he knew, but the times did not allow him to grow it and take proper care of it. 'vanity taints your soul', you kept telling him with a smirk. And with a smirk he would kiss you senseless.

Master Yoda would always take the last minutes of the meetings to remind everyone of the values the Jedi Order believed in; what the role of the Jedi was in the galaxy and excercises to continue growing the discipline that the order required.

It was that moment when you realized Obi-wan was asleep on your shoulder. His breathing had became even and the weight of his head on you was heavier. You did not move nor changed anything in the pattern your fingers drew on his scalp, the more he could rest the better.

The presentation finished and the Council stood before you, exchanging the final instructions. Obi-wan moved on your shoulder, you guessed to wake up, but instead a warmth breath tickled the conjucture where your neck meets your shoulder, laying a wet kiss that in any other set of circumstances would have marked your descend into pleasure. But your eyes were locked on Mace Windu's very own widened set.

"General Kenobi" He called, almost growling.

The man next to you sat straight, threw shoulders back and a charming smile his way. "Master Windu."

"Anything you would like to add?" The master pressed, an eyebrow crooked.

You heard Anakin's chuckle somewhere behind you. Your face felt warm and heavy.

Obi-wan stuttered, but for the life of you you couldn't look at him.

"Just—eh—that we should take care of ourselves and our colleagues." He proposed with one of his charming smiles that had everyone forget why they were worried to being with.