Altering Life by Holding It Still

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Summary: Anakin is so enamoured by his photographer boyfriend, unknowing that he's in love with a serial killer.

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Of course. Of course Anakin couldn’t date just one nice guy. Well, he was actually very nice, to Anakin and to Anakin’s mom and Anakin’s friends and to waitresses and-

So, okay. Maybe Obi-Wan was nice. And very nice to look at. And financially stable. And independent. And a caring partner. And a caring lover – Anakin had never been with someone so attentive in all aspect of the relationship until Obi-Wan. He just knew what made Anakin tick, it seemed.

So can Anakin really be blamed here? Anakin didn’t think so. Anakin thought that he was justified for falling head over heels for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And it was almost entirely ruined just because Anakin was trying to do something kind and sweet and thoughtful for the other man. Not because of Anakin period, which he felt was important to point out. Also the almost part, that was important, too.

His amazing boyfriend was also an amazing photographer, and was also turning thirty-eight at the end of the week. Anakin had been racking his brain for the perfect gift for his perfect partner, and then he remembered something Obi-Wan had said that one time Anakin had asked to see what he was developing in his in-home darkroom.

“I would love to show you, darling, but…I’m lucky if even five of the thirty-six frames turn out being anything of worth. I don’t want you seeing how bad I really am at my job and have you leave me for someone who’s more consistent with his success,” he’d said, all shy and self-deprecating like he always got when he talked about his work.

“Oh, but Obi-Wan,” Anakin had said with a smirk, gesturing to himself, “you clearly have an eye for beauty. Surely your work shows that.”

Obi-Wan had smiled and pulled him away from the door, towards his bedroom. Anakin went easily, always happy to be distracted by Obi-Wan’s roaming hands and searing kisses. Anakin was only human, after all.

But Obi-Wan currently was gone for a shoot, and Anakin figured that he wouldn’t mind him going through the darkroom for this very nice thing he was doing. Obi-Wan said he’d probably be gone most of the day, going so far as to saying he’d bring them home dinner on his way back, so Anakin knew he’d have time.

His great idea was he’d go in and find all the developed pictures Obi-Wan didn’t like, and he’d put them together in a sort of collage. He was sure his skills as an architect-to-be gave him a good idea of lines and composition, and if he could place the photos just so, Obi-Wan would see them as the masterpieces Anakin knew they were. (He would have loved to work with the undeveloped negatives, too, but he didn’t know jack about how to do that. Maybe after this Obi-Wan would teach him, even let Anakin help him with the development stages of his work.)

Stepping into the room and closing the door, Anakin flicked on the lights, washing the room in a dim red glow. He was overwhelmed at first by the smell of chemicals that often diluted on Obi-Wan’s fingers no matter how much he washed his hands, but potent in the small room. Then he was overwhelmed by the photographs that seemed to cover every corner of the room. Some were framed on the walls, some were scattered on the tables, some drying as they hung from strings criss-crossing the room.

Smiling, Anakin made his way further in. Obi-Wan wasn’t kidding: he really kept the majority of his photographs from seeing the light of day. Looking at the ones on the table, Anakin’s smile grew softer, seeing several of himself from a picnic they’d had in the park the other day. They had found a nice patch of shade, but the sunlight managed to trickle through the branches of the tree they’d sat under. Obi-Wan had loved the way the light played on Anakin’s face, Anakin remembered, and he stood with his camera, snapping pictures of Anakin lazing on the blanket and eating strawberries.

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