[ Anakin's opposite hand comes up, takes him by the bicep, and Obi-Wan becomes a complete circuit. He sat with Anakin while that arm healed, been with him to fine tune his motor control; worked with him, from the ground up, so that he could use that new piece of equipment as well as the real thing with his light saber in hand. That Anakin lost it at all will always be a dark stain on the linen of his history; as his Master, Anakin never should have had to face Dooku alone. Part of his job was keeping his Padawan safe from things like this.
And all of that lives in him when durasteel fingers press into his muscle. The black plating feels warm, like the heat that lingers when the sun has gone down, and Obi-Wan knows in an instant that the heartbeat he feels must be Anakin's, not his own. That makes a certain kind of sense. Anakin has been host to it since the day he became Obi-Wan's Padawan, and that thought is so abruptly freeing that hot on the heels of desire rushes unfiltered love. ]
I'm alright.
[ Obi-Wan gives ground and reaches up to wrap the Jedi's other wrist into his opposite palm. The razor clinks, metal on metal, and Obi-Wan backs up until they are near at arm's length. Now he is the one luring Anakin deeper into the suite. Not once do his black eyes leave Anakin's face. He hardly seems to blink.
He walks them backward into the bathroom and when they arrive, instead of sitting on the toilet, he hops up onto the counter and pulls Anakin toward him. ]
I remember when you were shorter than me and you were the one sitting on counters.
[ Obi-Wan smiles slow, ignoring the question completely. The mirror behind him only reflects Anakin's image back at him, Obi-Wan mysteriously missing. ]
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And all of that lives in him when durasteel fingers press into his muscle. The black plating feels warm, like the heat that lingers when the sun has gone down, and Obi-Wan knows in an instant that the heartbeat he feels must be Anakin's, not his own. That makes a certain kind of sense. Anakin has been host to it since the day he became Obi-Wan's Padawan, and that thought is so abruptly freeing that hot on the heels of desire rushes unfiltered love. ]
I'm alright.
[ Obi-Wan gives ground and reaches up to wrap the Jedi's other wrist into his opposite palm. The razor clinks, metal on metal, and Obi-Wan backs up until they are near at arm's length. Now he is the one luring Anakin deeper into the suite. Not once do his black eyes leave Anakin's face. He hardly seems to blink.
He walks them backward into the bathroom and when they arrive, instead of sitting on the toilet, he hops up onto the counter and pulls Anakin toward him. ]
I remember when you were shorter than me and you were the one sitting on counters.
[ Obi-Wan smiles slow, ignoring the question completely. The mirror behind him only reflects Anakin's image back at him, Obi-Wan mysteriously missing. ]