#lee!anakin

“Quiet as a tomb,” Anakin responded with confidence. “I don’t like just waiting here for something to happen to her.” Despite the Jedi’s ‘no attachment rules’... he had a rather difficult time keeping that value when it came to Padme, the girl who’d haunted (or rather blessed) his dreams ever since that pod race back on Tatooine.

Obi-Wan checked the device that connected to the cameras, frowning when it beeped. “What’s going on?” he asked, too preoccupied to scold Anakin.

“Ah, she covered the cameras.” Anakin gestured to the doors of Padme’s room. “I don’t think she liked me watching her.”

“What is she thinking?” Obi-Wan questioned as he walked towards the entrance of her room and tucked the device into his pocket.

“She programmed R2 to warn us if there is an intruder.”

“There are many other ways to kill a senator.”

“I know. But we also want to catch this assassin, don’t we, Master?”

Obi-Wan slowly turned to face Anakin. “You’re using her as bait.” He crossed his arms. It wasn’t even a question.

“It was her idea,” he insisted, his head downturned slightly. “Don’t worry, no harm will come to her. I can sense everything going on in that room,” he affirmed with a hint of cockiness in his voice. “Trust me.”

It’s too risky,” Obi-Wan said as he looked back towards her room. “Besides, your senses aren’t that attuned, my young apprentice.” He always seemed to put an emphasis on ‘young’ when trying to humble Anakin.

“And yours are?” he snarked.

Obi-Wan faced him again. “Possibly.”

“‘Possibly’?” Anakin huffed. “Yes, because possibly sensing danger will keep her safe.”

“As will the senses of a young Padawan who is unbearably arrogant in his own abilities,” Obi-Wan commented with a small smirk, once again emphasizing ‘young’.

“I’m not as young as you say I am, Master.”

“Oh? Did you happen to rapidly grow in both age and maturity in the thirty minutes I left you alone?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

Anakin fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I mean, you always emphasize the fact that I’m young. I’m not so young that I can’t handle myself. You underestimate mE—” He cut himself off, biting his tongue.

In the middle of his rant, Obi-Wan flicked his fingers subtly, sending out a gentle wave of the Force at Anakin. Gentle… and tickly.

Anakin glared at his Master, arm wrapped around his midsection. “Master. We talked about this.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan answered casually, walking by Anakin with a small, calm smile. Too casual. Too calm. But as he passed Anakin, the same flick of his hand and wave of ticklishness went out. Anakin coughed to cover up anything that could be mistaken as a laugh.

This wasn’t a one time occurrence. Obi-Wan often used the Force to… ‘discipline’ Anakin, and by discipline, he meant reducing poor Anakin to a giggly mess.

“Master…”

“Yes, Anakin?” Obi-Wan sat down on one of the couches, doing an infuriatingly good impression of not knowing what was going on as he sent yet another, stronger wave out. 

Anakin snorted, trying and failing to cover it up by clearing his throat. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

A giggle slipped out from Anakin before he could stop it as Obi-Wan used the Force to tickle him again, and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Anakin, but you really must elaborate,” Obi-Wan said with false worry.

Invisible hands began gently raking along Anakin’s ribs, his giggles turning into a steady stream as he tried to squirm away—but how can you squirm away from something that isn’t there?? “You’re— usihihihihing the F— the Fohohohohohohorce to— aHAha MAhahAhAhster!!” he laughed as two of the fingers pinched his ribs.

“Honestly, Anakin, what is so funny?” 

“ShuhuhuhuHUHUT UHUHUHUHUP!!” Anakin braced himself against the couch, where Obi-Wan turned with a slight smirk to face his Padawan.

“Giggling at nothing, are we? And insulting your Master like a child? You’re really not helping with your point of not being young,” Obi-Wan teased. Oh, this man was evil. Truly. 

“You’re messing up your braid.” He reached up to where Anakin’s thin braid connected to his head, which was unfortunately (or for Obi-Wan, rather conveniently) right behind his ear. The Jedi Master traced behind his Padawan’s ear and down his neck, which made him yelp through laughter and scramble away.

“I was trying to help you,” Obi-Wan said, no longer able to hide his own soft chuckles as he watched his Padawan use a chair for support, hunched over it as his shoulders shook with laughter.

“YohohoHOU’RE SUHUHUHUHUCH— a lihiHIAHAHAHAR!!” he laughed, snorting in between.

“Snorting like a pig now? Are you an animal, a Padawan, or a child? Make up your mind.” Obi-Wan sounded so smug, and Anakin wanted so desperately to get him back… if he was able to focus.

“You’re going to wake up Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan warned as if he wasn’t the cause of Anakin’s torture.

“AHaHAHAND whohoOHOHOSE F-FAHAHAHAHAULT— is thaHAHAHAHAT??” Anakin demanded through giggles, though he did use the sleeve of his robe to muffle himself.

“Yours,” Obi-Wan said simply.

Anakin was too busy burying his flaming face into his arms to notice what his Master was doing, so of course he jumped and yelped as he felt real fingers accompany the invisible ones. The ones controlled by the Force continued scratching and squeezing his ribs, while the one controlled by the most evil Jedi Master to ever roam the planets scribbled in his armpits.

Anakin was a mess, trying and failing to squirm away from the attack. But Obi-Wan was relentless, and Anakin couldn’t focus for long enough to use the Force to fight back.

“What’s the matter, Anakin? Surely you’re not… ticklish??” Obi-Wan said as if it was a brand new discovery that he hadn’t already figured out during their training together years ago.

“WHAHAHhahHAHAT DOHOHOHO— yohoHOHOU THIHIHIHIHIHHINK??” Anakin laughed, his face an embarrassing (adorable) shade of red as he continued snorting occasionally between laughs.

Anakin was able to turn around to face his Master and weakly push at his shoulders, which did nothing but expose his armpits further. He instantly regretted his choice and clamped his arms down, but Obi-Wan, who was chuckling along fondly, already had plenty of access.

Anakin fell back into the chair, which gave him temporary reprieve. “Mahahahaster— nohOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOT A— AGAHAHAHAHAHAIN!!” 

The invisible fingers had wandered up to his neck, making him scrunch, while Obi-Wan lightly scribbled on Anakin’s hipbones. He tried his hardest to curl up into a ball, which Obi-Wan easily prevented by just lightly pushing down Anakin’s legs.

“Trying to get rid of me? And here I thought you cared.”

“MAHAHAHAHAHAST— MAHAHAHAHASTEHEHEHEHER!” Anakin was doing everything in his power to hold back his laughter, but between the ticklish agony at his neck and at his ribs, paired with Obi-Wan’s teasing… Yeah, he wasn’t doing very well.

“So, there is certainly a reason why I call you my young Padawan.” Obi-Wan smiled fondly as he ceased both sets of fingers. “And I will remind you of this whenever I feel you need it.”

Anakin was slumped against the chair, doing his very best to muffle his giggles. “Krihihihihiff…” 

“Language,” Obi-Wan scolded as he ran a finger behind Anakin’s ear, making him gasp and jerk away with his shoulders trying to protect his ears.

“Stohohohop— doing that!” Anakin tried to sound angry, he really did. But his chest felt too warm and the smile on his face was too real for him to actually be mad at his Master.

“No, I don’t believe I will. It’s rather amusing.” Obi-Wan smiled.

“My suffering is amusing?”

“Very.”

“Perhaps I should tell the Council that you are torturing your Padawans.” Anakin regained his footing, taking a breath and smoothing out his robes, though the lingering red on his cheeks gave him away.

“Ah yes. I will enjoy watching you complain to the Council about how I tickled you.”

“...Never m—” Anakin cut himself off and whipped towards the direction of Padme’s door. Something was different. Wrong. 

“I sense it too,” Obi-Wan agreed, all sense of teasing gone from his voice. With that, they both dashed off to the Senators room as Anakin tried and failed to ignore the lingering tingles from his Master’s torture.

And even though Obi-Wan instructed Anakin to be on the defense, of course his Padawan lunged first, missing as Obi-Wan stepped aside. Hmph. Their dance continued like this, both evading. Until Anakin took a step too large for his balance and Obi-Wan side-swiped him, tapping his arm, "You're down to four. Mind the counting," he wanted to smirk.

Anakin groaned. He knew Obi-Wan had a plan this whole time, and it was slowly coming to fruition. He complained about counting, and now he was reminded of that.

Unsurprisingly to Obi-Wan, but quite surprisingly to Anakin, the Jedi master had Anakin down to his last point, while he'd only lost one.

"Focus," Obi-Wan reminded.

Anakin was angry. He had been training to control his anger and not lash out. But he did not want Obi-Wan to best him, wanting to prove himself to his master and show him that he didn't need any stupid quiet time to be a Jedi... and he really didn't want to drink that rancid Bantha milk.

Thinking with this rashness in mind, Anakin did not perform well. He barely noticed when he'd kicked a leg out and threw a punch that Obi-Wan ducked beneath him and ended up behind him. Kenobi grabbed Anakin's hand and pulled it behind his back in a lock, "Looks like you lose."

"Rrgh!" Anakin growled, grimacing at the arm hold his master had him in.

"Do you want to start counting the amount of time before you get yourself out of this hold?" Obi-Wan was being cheeky now. He'd been holding it back relatively well, to anyone with an untrained ear, he would've just been coaching his Padawn up until this point, "Or shall I get you started? One..."

"Alright, you've made your point," Anakin sighed.

Obi-Wan didn't want Anakin upset over this tiny spat. That was never his intention, though it did feel good to put Anakin in his place every once in a while. Keeping Anakin's one arm in his hold, Obi-Wan used a free hand of his to poke Anakin's side. At first it went unnoticed. But then he poked more than once, in spurts.

"Hey," Anakin jerked and he was putting more strength into getting his arm back.

"I'll start over then," Obi-Wan said and he poked a finger on Anakin's lowest rib, "One," then the next up, "Two," and the next, "Three... Anakin, you really ought to get yourself out of this mess before I start enjoying myself too much."

Anakin actually blushed, feeling the heat in his cheeks not from his outrage, but from embarrassment, "M-Master!" his breath caught at Obi-Wan's overt teases. Anakin pulled his arm free, or so he thought, but the older Jedi took Anakin down to the floor like it was nothing.

"Goodness," Obi-Wan sighed, acting dejected, "Now I've got to start again, I've forgotten where I left off."

"Plehehease don't!" Anakin had a smile on his face before he could help it and Obi-Wan's fingers were back at his ribs, poking and audibly counting every one. When he felt bold, he would jam an extra finger into the space between Anakin's ribs just to hear him yelp.

Anakin was laughing in no time. If he'd kick his leg or bring an arm up to shove Obi-Wan's away, the man would just start counting again, regardless if he started at rib one! He was just counting for the sake of annoying Anakin by now!

"OKAhahahay! Okay, I gehet it! I'll focus! I'll meditahate! Plehehehease."

"Hm," Obi-Wan seemed satisfied with that and he stood up, brushing his robes off. He extended a hand down to his Padawan panting on the floor and once Anakin was standing, Obi-Wan started heading toward the door to leave.

"Wh-Where are you going, master? We're not finished with our time yet."