Two Halfs of One Warrior • Obikin/Vaderwan One-Shots

Totally Legitimate Fool-Proof Ways to Inconspicuously Flirt with Your Master

• Summary: Anakin has mastered the art of teasing Obi-Wan. Whether in private or in public, he keeps his coquetry to a level where it gets a reaction but doesn't suggest anything indecent in his intentions. All in good fun, really.

OR: Anakin thinks he's subtle.

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No, he wasn’t seducing his Master. It was just joking, playful teasing. Harmless flirting at most. No need to examine the reasons behind it.

And what did it matter anyway, what this was? He was being subtle, no one could substantially accuse him of anything untoward.

Anakin slapped Obi-Wan on the back. “Another easy victory, huh, Master?”

He hadn’t dropped the title despite being long past his Padawan years. But it felt strange to go without it. And considering how Obi-Wan had initially reminded him that he could call him by name, Anakin refused on the simple basis of being contrarian.

“It does not do to become complacent,” Obi-Wan said, though the easy set of his shoulders and the smile he addressed Anakin with returned the sentiment.

Anakin moved his hand to said shoulder, the farther one of course, so their sides would be pressed together as they walked to the shuttle.

“You know what that means,” Anakin grinned, and Obi-Wan, the most patient man in the entire Galaxy, did not roll his eyes at his tone.

“What does it mean, Anakin?” he humoured him. Anakin’s grin grew.

“It means we can go for drinks!”

Obi-Wan sighed. He did not have to compose his response, Anakin’s offer came frequent enough he’d memorised it.

“We have a debrief, reports to write, council to report to, and you ought to get that wound of yours checked.”

“This?” Anakin touched a hand to the thin cut across his cheek. “It’ll heal in no time. Anyway, scars make one look hotter, as I’ve heard.”

Obi-Wan raised a brow, glancing at Anakin and the cut from the corner of his eye. He shook his head, a familiar smile, equal measures fond and exasperated, curling on his lips.

“Of course.”

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Anakin woke with a jolt. His hand was cramped from gripping his bedroll, the rest of his body damp with a sheen of sweat. His breaths came fast and heavy, unbearably loud in the small space of the tent.

It was pitch black and silent besides him. Now that he’d woken, he couldn’t even remember what the dream had been, only a lingering sense of suffering and malevolence. He turned to face the other side, the calm presence beside him.

“Master,” he whispered. His voice came out resembling too much of his younger self. “Obi-Wan?”

But not much had changed over the years, had it? He was still plagued by nightmares and he sought comfort from them in the same way.

“Hmm?” came the half-asleep hum. Obi-Wan turned his head to squint at Anakin through the darkness.

“Can I…?” He reached his arm out towards Obi-Wan, question trailing off unfinished. But Obi-Wan understood all the same – years of Padawanship followed by years of partnership combined with the distress Anakin’s Force signature was exuding.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh.

“Alright, then,” he said with a note of resignation that meant a talking-to come morning concerning the impropriety of such actions. Anakin could recite the words by heart. Yet despite Obi-Wan’s persistence in these lectures, he hadn’t turned Anakin away.