#slo!au

The pleasure moving through his veins lasted as they rose and dressed, all of Obi-Wan’s bare skin disappearing behind tunics and robes. Obi-Wan smiled at him when Cody pressed a protein bar into his hands - the best breakfast available - and Cody wondered if they were close enough to Obi-Wan’s heat, still, for him to steal a kiss.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and announced that he was going scouting, before Cody could.

Cody watched him go, a dozen pleasant memories stealing through his head. He held them close as he moved about this work in the camp, knowing he was smiling absently and quite unable to stop himself.

He got congratulatory shoves on his back and shoulders from his brothers, through the morning, a few teasing him about, apparently, the amount of noise that had come out of the little building the previous night. 

He flashed a sharper smile back, and Tektek laughed, called, “Excellent work, Commander,” over a shoulder as he went off to handle the comms. Everyone seemed in a good mood, for the most part.

Everyone but General Skywalker.

He was frowning before Cody and Obi-Wan ever stepped out of their makeshift quarters. The frown didn’t go away through the morning. It didn’t go away by the time he stalked over and said, “I need to speak with you for a moment, Commander.”

Anakin sounded like he was trying to talk with his teeth shut. Cody looked up from the maps he’d been surveying and said, “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Anakin looked tense, shoulders a rigid line, arms crossed. And there was, just on the edge of hearing, a rumble in his chest. Cody straightened and met his gaze, unblinking, because he was not a fool and not blind.

He knew very well what had crawled up Anakin’s exhaust port.

Obi-Wan apparently didn’t see it, the way Anakin watched him. Cody did. 

He’d also decided it didn’t really matter, not in any real way. Obi-Wan didn’t watch Anakin in return, didn’t gaze after him. And hadn’t gone to Anakin the previous evening to handle his heat. He’d wanted Cody, taken Cody into his bed, and there was another kick of satisfied pleasure in his gut at the thought.

Anakin could watch all he wanted. It didn’t change anything.

“We need to have a talk about Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, words clipped, an edge of a rumble to each one, a messy little display of emotion, the kind of thing that would have gotten him snatched up on Kamino, where such a lack of control was met with remedial training.

Cody raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”

Anakin’s frown got deeper. He drew up a little taller. “What you did to him last night was--it can’t happen again.”

Cody felt his jaw tighten. He’d been trained to control himself, but Anakin was, currently, pushing at the edges of that control. He lifted his chin a little, wondering how long it had been since either of them blinked. “Excuse me?” he bit out, tone as even as he could keep it.

“You heard me, Obi-Wan is--”

“I don’t see how it’s up to you,” Cody cut in, giving over trying to control the vibration in his chest, offended by the blatant attempt at intimidation. Anakin was….a fine General, most of the time. And Cody didn’t blame him for regretting his decision to let Obi-Wan go.

But Cody wasn’t going to make the same mistakes.

Anakin scowled at him. “I’m looking out for Obi-Wan’s best interests, he--”

“He can look after himself,” Cody said, hard. “He does an excellent job of it.” It was half a lie, but one that Cody didn’t mind, in the moment. He disliked, immensely, the idea that Anakin thought he could just...step in and try to wrest control of Obi-Wan’s choices away from him. “And if he can’t, I’ll make sure he’s fine.”

Anakin opened his mouth again, and Cody turned away from him, distracted by a sudden sound or a change in the flavor of the air. He exhaled, ragged, as he caught sight of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, finally returning to camp.

He took a step towards them, and Anakin snapped, “I’m not done.”

He’d spent every free hour he could over the following days learning everything about the process. It only made sense. Most of the reading was dry and medical; he prefered that, in general. He’d not yet had time to branch out into different forms of writing.

It didn’t take him long to understand the condition, to develop an idea of what might be expected as it….progressed.

Everything had seemed simple enough.

Things rapidly became less simple.

He was used to the idea of children being lifted from jars when they were grown enough. It had been a cool and impersonal process. There was something innately personal about watching a child grow inside his General.

Cody caught glimpses, sometimes, of his body as it changed, the swell of his stomach, skin tight and firm. He found himself wondering, sometimes, tucked into a bunk at night, what it would feel like to touch Obi-Wan, to curve a hand around his stomach, fingers spread, to feel skin under his palm.

He thought, perhaps, more than he should about his General in his bunk at night, about sliding close to him, about being so careful of the stretch of his stomach, about sliding a hand further down and--

Cody knew the child Obi-Wan carried belonged to someone else, some other alpha, back on Coruscant. And he had no desire to - to interfere. But that didn’t do anything to change the urge down his spine, to reach out, to pull Obi-Wan closer, to hold.

He didn’t, of course. But he was the first person to hold the child, when she was born, screaming and lovely. 

It shifted something in his chest, changed the shape of him on the inside. He felt rearranged all over again when he found out that the other alpha - another General, another Jedi - had no intention of continuing any kind of relationship with Obi-Wan.

Cody thought about the swell of Obi-Wan’s stomach, the first time he offered to help with his General’s heats. He thought about a child - his child - and he’d never even wanted a child before, but, oh--

He fucked Obi-Wan, over and over, and slid a hand over his flat stomach and wanted.

He knew, perfectly well, that the timing was all wrong. Watching Obi-Wan fight a war while heavily pregnant had left him with nightmares that still dug away at him. He wanted to fuck Obi-Wan full, wanted to see a child grow inside him, again, but he’d not risk such a thing.

He could wait. The war would end, eventually.

Until then, he made sure he always had a contraceptive shot before one of Obi-Wan’s heats, even if he imagined a child, each time, sunk deep into Obi-Wan’s body, listening to Obi-Wan groan and pant and stutter out his name, holding on.

He saw Obi-Wan smile, sometimes, looking fond and amused, when Cody flattened a hand on his stomach as they lay together. There were little lines, around the edges of his stomach, paler than the rest of his skin, and Cody liked to trace them, too, liked to imagine more of them, wanted--

He’d wanted for so long and so thoroughly, by the time the war actually ended, that he could only agree helplessly when Obi-Wan offered the chance to try for a child. He tried to speak into being how much he wanted a child, wanted it to take, wanted--

“Mm?” Cody asked, nuzzling up into his hair. Obi-Wan felt so warm, solid against him. Cody curled an arm around him, mouth crooking as he stretched his fingers out, flattening his hand over the swell of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“You said you had reading to do,” Obi-Wan said, but he’d tilted his head further to the side. There was no tension in his back, pressed to Cody’s chest as Cody stroked a hand over his stomach, noticeable now, even through all the robes Obi-Wan liked to wear.

He wasn’t wearing any at the moment, clad only in one of Cody’s shirts that he’d apparently taken for his own, the Jedi’s views on the possession of objects being what they were.

Cody didn’t mind. The shirt had been too short on Obi-Wan before. Now the fabric stretched and rode up. Cody coaxed it a little higher, brushed fingertips over skin, and said, “It’ll keep.” 

“He’s not kicking right now,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, and Cody nodded. He did very much enjoy pressing his palm against the feeling of kicks and nudges, as their child turned somersaults inside of Obi-Wan. 

But that was hardly the only thing he enjoyed. 

He’d not been….in a position to touch Obi-Wan while he carried Dal. It would have been...wildly inappropriate. He’d only looked. And wondered. And, by the end, wanted--

Cody brushed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s throat, nudging his shirt higher and abandoning the pad he’d meant to read completely. It seemed like a better idea to get both hands on Obi-Wan, his skin so soft and warm. Welcoming. 

It still awed him, the prospect of a child of their own. It seemed -- so strange, the idea of a natural childbirth. Certainly more magical than anything else he’d seen in the galaxy.

And Obi-Wan had chosen to go through with it with him.

“Force,” Obi-Wan groaned, though Cody had not done much, yet. Perhaps he was projecting. Obi-Wan had mentioned that he was doing so, more than usual. Whatever the reason, Obi-Wan shifted, dropping his own pad and settling a little closer.

The pressure of his back felt good against the line of Cody’s cock, more than interested in the proceedings.

“You look so good like this,” Cody told him, bussing another kiss to Obi-Wan’s throat. He hooked his chin over Obi-Wan’s shoulder a moment later, wanting to get a better look at both of his hands on Obi-Wan’s skin, his shirt pushed up to Obi-Wan’s ribs, Obi-Wan’s legs stretched out, one bent on the couch, the other over the side, and--

Obi-Wan snorted, just a little, running a hand up Cody’s thigh, and it was….not the first time he’d made a dismissive little sound at such statements. Cody supposed he could not blame Obi-Wan for that.

He’d been left alone, before. No one had told him such things while he carried his other children.

“You do,” Cody told him, and rocked against him, just a little, since he had physical proof of how much he liked the view. “I want to touch you all the time. Just like this.” He slid one of his hands further down, finding the waistband of Obi-Wan’s slacks, and added, voice thicker, as Obi-Wan pushed up, right away, into the circle of his fingers, “Like this, too.”

Cody knew all of the crèche masters by the time Kei was born. They nodded to him when he arrived after a brief rescue mission. He’d already checked on Obi-Wan - safety with the healers, recovering from a relatively minor injury - and had made his way to the crèche without even thinking about it.

Dal was in class, he knew. She’d track him down later. She always seemed to know when he was in the Temple.

And Kei was...playing with a set of gently spinning toys, floating above his head as he wriggled on his back on a soft rug. Cody stopped in the doorway, stunned anew for a moment, just staring at his son, his chest aching, throat going tight.

Kei was so small. Cody remembered when Dal had been the same size, tiny and precious. He’d been able to hold her head in his hand, her hair soft on his fingers while she blinked up at him with unfocused eyes, blowing little bubbles after she ate, arms and legs moving in random little patterns.

He’d rocked her to sleep, her weight negligible on one arm while he read reports, and…

And he knew he hadn’t been designed to take care of an infant, but it had felt… right, anyway.

Cody shook himself, swallowing the tight feeling in his throat and easing forward. He sat close to Kei, nudging one of the circling toys to make it wobble. Kei gurgled with delight at the change, arms and legs stretching up, fingers opening and closing.

“You can’t snag them down the way your sister could,” Cody told him, stretching out and grabbing the same toy, tugging it down a little, close enough for Kei to hold onto it.

He’d awoken that morning aware that Obi-Wan was about to fall over into a heat and he’d gone to - to offer what assistance he could, because the thought of Obi-Wan having to go find some stranger to help him, after all he’d gone through, had cut inside his chest. He’d been willing to ignore the pain of - of having something so close to what he wanted, of having Obi-Wan’s body but not his heart, but--

“Force,” Obi-Wan murmured, against his mouth, as Cody nudged him back one step and then another, and another, until they reached the bed. 

The sheets were still a mess from earlier. Most of the blankets were, in fact, on the floor. Cody avoided them, breaking the kiss just long enough to sit on the mattress, tugging Obi-Wan after him.

He ended up sprawled across a damp spot on the sheets, and didn’t even care. In fact, he felt a little kick of pride in his gut as Obi-Wan stretched out beside him, arm curled around his shoulders, falling right back to kissing him.

Cody would have, happily, kissed Obi-Wan for the rest of the night, if that was what he’d wanted, but he couldn’t suppress a little shiver of relief when Obi-Wan started tugging at his belt. He’d been hard for what felt like an age, since the moment they’d fallen into an embrace, despite all of their… earlier activities.

He shifted up, pulling off the white tunic - he liked it much better than the armor he’d grown used to wearing - and grabbing his black undershirt. Obi-Wan made a thick little sound, and Cody found him staring, openly, after he threw his shirt to one side.

Cody couldn’t help a quirk of his mouth, a swell of pleasure at the glazed look in Obi-Wan’s eyes and the want written across his expression. “I want to touch you,” Obi-Wan said, in the same tone he’d used before he - he licked across Cody’s cock, earlier, and Cody shivered, because that was a memory he was going to cherish for the rest of his life.

“By all means,” he said, and Obi-Wan moved towards him, all predatory grace, pushing him onto his back and leaning down to kiss his mouth, his jaw, further back. Obi-Wan’s skin was cooler than his - always was - and his hands were strong, his fingers roughened with calluses and scars, but he was infinitely gentle.

Obi-Wan touched him so carefully, running his palms across Cody’s chest, out to his shoulders, his breath escaping in a little stuttering rasp against Cody’s throat, his beard a rasp against tender skin.

Cody pulled him a little closer, a hand in the small of his back, delighted to feel how hard Obi-Wan was, pressing against his leg, groaning when Obi-Wan rocked against him, with a hungry little sound.

“Let me see you, too,” he murmured, tugging at Obi-Wan’s tunics. It would feel so much nicer, he thought, if they were all skin to skin. Obi-Wan made a little sound, agreeable, pulling at his clothes while shifting up to kiss Cody’s mouth again.

Cody knew so many of the scars across Obi-Wan’s body; he’d been there when the injuries that left them behind occured. The majority he didn’t know; they’d been set against skin before he’d ever met Obi-Wan. He had questions about a hook of raised flesh at Obi-Wan’s side, and a series of jagged lines over his back, but…

But they’d spoken enough, for one day. He only traced them with his fingers, feeling Obi-Wan shiver against him, arching into the touch. Obi-Wan had not, he thought, ever been touched enough. Cody planned to fix that, he’d already developed strategies, and--

And they fell out of his head when Obi-Wan worked free the closures on his pants and slid his hand past the waistband. 

“Force,” Cody gritted out, because Obi-Wan’s hands always felt so good on him, most especially wrapped around his cock. He shoved at the waistband, trying to give Obi-Wan more room to work, feeling him smile. 

Obi-Wan kept touching him as he kicked his own blasted pants off, kept touching him as Cody pushed him back on the bed and tugged at his Force-damned trousers. It was… distracting. But Cody knew how to focus through distraction, through the ache of want in his blood, making a victorious sound when he managed to make Obi-Wan utterly naked.

There were a few marks, here and there, across Obi-Wan’s skin. He’d left them behind earlier, with his mouth and his hands. Seeing them left a shivery little feeling in his gut. Every time they’d shared a heat before, he’d only imagined the marks he left behind. There’d been no chance to look on them, and his cock twitched in Obi-Wan’s grip.

“You’re so kriffing beautiful,” he rasped, pressing closer all at once, needing to kiss Obi-Wan again. Obi-Wan made a surprised, pleased sound, arching up against him. His hand caught between them for a moment, before he slid it around Cody’s hip, gripping at his back, instead.

There was no rush to touching him. Cody just... shifted against him, slow and steady, enjoying the drag of skin on skin, the wet smears of Obi-Wan’s slick on his legs, which tightened his gut and made him groan in the back of his throat.

Nothing in the kriffing galaxy felt quite as good as tangling together with Obi-Wan, and the sense memory of sinking into him was so sharp and clear in his mind. Obi-Wan shifted against him, arm slung across his shoulders as he drew a leg up, welcoming Cody to press a little closer, cock sliding on slick skin and--

“I want you,” Obi-Wan panted out, right against his mouth, canting his hips up, all red and flushed across his cheeks and throat, “Please, would you--”

And Cody saw no reason to make him ask twice. He curled fingers around Obi-Wan’s thigh, hitching his leg a little higher and, oh, sinking into him felt like coming home. He went slow - well aware of how tender Obi-Wan had to be, from his earlier heat - and careful, Obi-Wan gasping against his mouth as he settled.

They rocked together, slowly. Cody braced an elbow on the bed, staying close to trade shivery kisses. Obi-Wan held onto him, tightly, his cock caught between their stomachs, shifting against skin with each slow, deep thrust.

Time - the entire rest of the world - slipped out of focus. Cody couldn’t bring himself to care about anything outside of their bed, anything but the taste of Obi-Wan’s mouth and the way his eyes were glazed, the way he held on and started to cry out, sharp, with each movement.

Obi-Wan’s orgasm took him by surprise - perhaps it took Obi-Wan by surprise, too, for he groaned loudly as his cock jerked between them, making a mess all over them both. Even that felt far away as his body clenched and squeezed, sudden pressure that dragged Cody after him all in a rush.