Chapter Text
Obi-Wan had lived through worse.
Probably.
The lights overhead were too bright. The monitors were beeping in a tone he found deeply judgmental. And every time he blinked, the world spun. There was a familiar heaviness in his limbs — a sluggish, dragging kind of weight that made everything feel half a second too slow.
He squinted up at the sterile ceiling of the medbay, frowning at the drip bag with deep suspicion. It swayed. Taunted him.
His thoughts felt slow, syrupy — and mercifully unburdened by strategy, war reports, or any of the other myriad worries that usually plagued him.
There was a reason he didn’t like the medbay. He was almost certain of it. It had been a good reason, too — but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was. That felt like the kind of memory lapse that ought to be alarming.
But it was hard to care when there was a nice, warm, floaty feeling spreading lazily through his limbs.
“Mm,” he sighed, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. The ceiling really was doing a lovely job of being the ceiling, and the air tasted like sweet mallows, which was quite delightful.
“The Force feels fuzzy today,” Obi-Wan observed aloud.
“Does it?” came a voice from somewhere above his left elbow — dry, fond, and annoyingly familiar.
Obi-Wan turned his head towards the blur beside him. “‘lo, An’kin.”
“Hello, Master. Welcome back.”
Obi-Wan blinked, slowly. “Was I gone?”
He couldn't remember going anywhere.
“You took a hit,” Anakin explained. “Blast knocked you out cold. You’ve been in here for a few hours.”
Hmm, well that certainly didn't sound good. He hoped he hadn't inconvenienced anyone by being here instead of…wherever it was he was probably supposed to be.
Obi-Wan squinted at him. “Why are you here?”
“Because you were trying to debate the IV pole earlier,” Anakin said, “and Helix thought it might be best if someone supervised.”
Obi-Wan considered this. “Did I win?”
Anakin snorted. “Absolutely, Master. The IV never stood a chance.”
“Oh, good,” Obi-Wan said, entirely satisfied. Then his brow creased. “Where’s Cody?”
“Cody?”
Obi-Wan nodded seriously. “Yes. Cody. Tall. Dark hair. Eyes you could get lost in. Scar —“ he paused, gesturing vaguely at his own face, “— right about here.”
He missed by a wide margin, narrowly avoiding jabbing himself in the eye. He frowned at his hand, puzzled by its sudden lack of coordination.
After a long moment of blinking suspiciously at his own fingers, he turned back to Anakin, who looked rather like he was trying very hard to contain a sneeze…or choking.
Obi-Wan squinted at him: “Are you unwell?”
Anakin made a sound that could have been a cough or a suppressed wheeze.
“I’m fine,” he managed to say — several vocal registers higher than normal.
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, deeply suspicious. “Are you quite certain?”
“I’m not the one with a punctured side and a bacta drip, Master.”
Obi-Wan hummed. Anakin had a point there.
He had, admittedly, only hazy memories of the end of the battle…and so he wasn’t entirely sure who had made it off the field — injured or otherwise.
Cody would know though.
“Where is Cody?” he asked again, more urgently. “He’s usually here when I wake up.”
Then his breath hitched. His eyes widened in sudden horror. “Is he hurt?”
He shoved himself upright, which turned out to be a more complicated maneuver than anticipated. The world tilted alarmingly as he kicked the sheet away.
Or…tried to kick the sheet away.
His legs felt like they belonged to someone else entirely — and the sheet really didn’t seem to be in a particularly cooperative mood.
“Master —“ Anakin’s hands landed on his shoulders, steady and warm. “Obi-Wan. The blanket is winning. Lie down before it finishes you off.”
“But Cody —“
“Is fine,” Anakin said firmly, pushing him back against the pillows. “He just had to return to the command deck.”
“He left?” Obi-Wan asked, voice small.
“There was an emergency.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he struggled upright again — with some difficulty, considering Anakin was still trying to ease him back down. “What kind of emergency?”
“Logistics related. Cody’s fine. Everyone’s fine. Just lie down,” Anakin said. “I swear it’s like you want to tear out your stitches.”
“My stitches are fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said petulantly. “Also — I have stitches?”
Anakin sighed. “Yes, Master. Twenty-seven of them — keeping everything where it belongs while the bacta does its thing,” he said flatly. “So, lie down. Before you hurt yourself.”
“I feel perfectly —” Obi-Wan paused, blinking slowly as the room dipped and spun. “— floaty. Perfectly floaty, Anakin. Really.”
Strangely, Anakin did not look reassured.
“Right,” he said dryly, catching Obi-Wan’s elbow as he listed to one side, “I don’t think floaty is gonna be enough to get you all the way to the command deck.”
Obi-Wan’s brow crumpled. “I wouldn’t have to go all the way to the command deck if Cody were here.”
Anakin rubbed a hand over his face. “He didn’t want to leave,” he said, sounding tired. “They practically had to drag him out. Pretty sure Helix was two seconds from sedating him instead of you.”
Hmm…that didn’t sound right.
Cody was composed, unshakeable — the human embodiment of we’ve got this, sir. He didn’t do dramatics. He rolled his eyes when Obi-Wan did dramatics.
Melodrama was beneath him.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say as much, but Anakin was still speaking.
“I mean, he completely lost it when you went down. Screamed your name, dropped three droids without even aiming, hauled you out of the crater like you weighed nothing —“
Obi-Wan’s eyes went round.
“— wouldn’t let anyone else touch you, wouldn’t even let Helix take vitals until he’d checked them himself —”
Obi-Wan’s heart fluttered wildly. “He saved me?”
“We all saved you,” Anakin corrected quickly, with the defensive tone of someone who’d clarified this quite a few times already. Possibly to multiple parties.
“Ahsoka and I were there too, you know…But yes — technically — Cody’s the one who carried you to the evac point.”
Obi-Wan’s face went warm. “He carried me?”
He tried to summon the memory. Cody’s arms, strong and steady. Cody’s voice, tense and urgent. But it was all blurry — like trying to remember a dream that had already slipped away.
Which was honestly rather devastating, considering Obi-Wan had spent more time than he cared to admit wondering what it would feel like to be held by Cody — and a great deal more time trying to meditate that particular line of thought into oblivion.
Now that it had actually happened, he’d have at least liked to remember it properly.
“But why would he argue with Helix?” Obi-Wan wondered. Everyone knew there was no out-stubborning a combat medic.
“Probably because he’s hopelessly in love with you,” Anakin muttered, under his breath.
Obi-Wan sat bolt upright. “He’s what?!”
Somewhere above him, a monitor beeped in concern.
“Force — lie down,” Anakin yelped, scrambling to shove him back against the mattress. One hand braced Obi-Wan’s shoulder while the other reached for the IV pole in a way that was not at all reassuring.
“When did he say that?” Obi-Wan demanded, blinking rapidly through sudden dizziness.
Anakin gave him a flat look, then planted a firm hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down with a stern expression that clearly meant stay.
He clearly wasn’t grasping the enormity of this revelation.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan insisted, gripping his arm like the fate of the galaxy depended on it. “When did he say that?”
“He didn’t say it exactly, Master,” Anakin huffed as his fingers moved over the IV’s control panel in a way that was almost definitely unnecessary.
Obi-Wan’s heart sank.
“But he probably meant it,” Anakin continued, half under his breath.
Obi-Wan blinked up at him, glassy eyed and hopeful. “Do you really think so?”
Anakin exhaled through his nose, long-suffering. He looked surprisingly regretful for someone who had just delivered the most galaxy-shattering news.
“Sure, Master,” he said, defeated.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathed out, finally settling back against the pillows. A dazed, dreamy sort of smile spread across his face.
He felt like he might float straight out of his own skin. Which was a mildly alarming sensation, but not altogether unpleasant. His limbs felt far too light for something as solid as a body anyway.
“I knew he loved me,” Obi-Wan whispered, conspiratorially, to the IV drip.
“Did you?” it asked — or maybe that was just Anakin again — sounding deeply skeptical.
“Well,“ Obi-Wan corrected himself. “I hoped he did —“
He paused as the drip gave a particularly aggressive plonk.
“Don’t start with me,” Obi-Wan told it sternly. He tilted his head at the dosage display, frowning. Something looked a bit different there, but Obi-Wan was having a difficult time focusing.
His thoughts were starting to feel a little bit like soap bubbles — delicate and short-lived, popping before he could truly grasp them. His concern quickly floated away to make room for a softer, sunlit thought: Cody.
Cody, with his callused hands and steady voice. Cody, who had carried him. Cody, who Obi-Wan had been hopelessly in love with for the greater part of the war.
Cody, who still didn’t know Obi-Wan loved him.
Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t noticed himself closing them.
No matter. Obi-Wan had more important things to concern himself with at the moment. Any lapses in eyelid control would have to be dealt with later.
He focused on trying to wiggle his strangely floppy and uncooperative body off the bed. It took alarmingly more effort than he thought it should, but he managed to get both feet on the floor before Anakin noticed.
“Master —“ Anakin snapped, grabbing him by both elbows as Obi-Wan struggled to get himself into a wobbly upright position.
“Let go, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said — even though he was reasonably certain Anakin was one of the only things keeping him up at that particular moment.
Still, one didn’t bring their Padawan to a love confession. That was simply not done —
“Where do you think you’re going?” Anakin asked, exasperated. “Because unless the answer is ‘back to bed,’ I don't think you’ll make it very far.”
Obi-Wan huffed. “I’m going to find Cody,” he said with grave sincerity “and tell him I love him back.”
“You’re going to stay right here,” Anakin said with great difficulty as he tried to wrestle Obi-Wan back toward the bed, “where you can’t cause a public scandal.”
“But Anakin,” Obi-Wan protested, clutching at his former Padawan for balance — while still trying to speak with the level of gravitas the situation deserved. “He loves me. And I love him. I have to tell him.”
“Maybe wait until the painkillers wear off,” Anakin suggested. “Or at least until you can walk in a straight line.”
“I can walk,” Obi-Wan insisted, offended. He tried to move forward — to prove it — but his legs didn’t quite agree with him about the walking part —
He staggered two steps before Anakin caught him under the arms.
“I swear to the Force, Obi-Wan —”
The whoosh of the medbay doors interrupted him.
Cody stepped inside, stripped down to his blacks from the waist up — exhausted, rumpled, and, as usual, utterly devastating to look at.
“Oh, Force preserve us,” Anakin muttered under his breath, sounding oddly resigned.
“Cody!” Obi-Wan beamed, bright as a solar flare.
Cody’s eyes flicked between the two of them, brow arching in concern. “Sir, should you be standing?”
“‘Standing’ is a strong word for this,” Anakin grunted, trying to maneuver Obi-Wan back into the bed without dropping him.
Now that Cody was actually here, in front of him, Obi-Wan was much more amenable to being handled. He let Anakin guide him back to the mattress.
“Don’t do anything dramatic, ok?” Anakin muttered into his ear as he settled him against the pillows.
“Hmm?” Obi-Wan said, not listening.
Cody stepped closer, coming to a halt just behind Anakin’s shoulder. His eyes found Obi-Wan’s — and whatever tension he’d walked in with eased in an instant, his expression softening with quiet relief.
“It’s good to see you awake, sir.”
“It’s good to see you, my dear,” Obi-Wan said warmly. Then added: “You’re incredibly symmetrical. I don’t think I’ve told you that.”
Cody blinked, eyes flicking towards Anakin. “They…uh…have him on the vode-grade pain suppressants, sir?”
“Just the standard ones,” Anakin sighed. “He just gets…like this.”
Obi-Wan smiled up at Cody, and for a moment, everything else in the room went delightfully fuzzy — the sterile lighting, the beeping monitor, even Anakin’s hovering anxiety. It felt, inexplicably, like the light in the room had shifted — softer, warmer, somehow closer to the sun.
Obi-Wan’s fingers brushed Cody’s wrist, featherlight. Even that small contact felt steadying — something real to hold onto in the haze. “Anakin said you saved me.”
“I said we saved you.”
“It was a team effort, sir,” Cody said amenably.
Obi-Wan smiled, slow and soft. “But you carried me.”
He watched with delight as a soft pink flush tinted Cody’s cheeks.
“I — I mean, yes, sir —” Cody cleared his throat. “Just doing…my…job?”
He faltered completely, wide-eyed, as Obi-Wan leaned up, cupping his face with both hands, thumbs brushing tenderly along his cheekbones.
“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan murmured, devastatingly sincere.
Cody opened his mouth like he meant to respond —
But before he could say another word, Obi-Wan drew him in and kissed him.
It was soft and very warm and slightly off-center. His nose bumped into Cody’s, but it still felt like the sun had decided to bloom right inside his chest as their lips touched.
Cody froze, then went soft, melting against him.
Anakin made a sound like a dying engine.
And Obi-Wan sighed happily against Cody’s lips, wondering why they hadn’t ever done this before.
When Obi-Wan finally drew back, Cody looked stunned — bright red, breathless, and blinking hard.
Obi-Wan smiled, pleased. “I’ve wanted to do that since Christophis.”
Anakin buried his face in one hand. “Obi-Wan,” he said, sounding very put upon, “what did I just say?”
“You told me he loved me,” Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly.
“You told him what?” Cody yelped, head whipping towards Anakin.
“I said probably,” Anakin snapped. “He made the rest up on his own.”
“I did not,” Obi-Wan huffed, indignant.
Cody shot Anakin a look that promised consequences.
“I panicked, ok?” Anakin cried defensively. “I didn’t think he’d actually — kiss anyone!”
Obi-Wan gaze slid between them, serenely unbothered, still in a haze. He felt warm all over — floaty, weightless, like someone had poured sunlight into his chest. He turned his head toward Cody — the only steady point in a room that kept gently spinning.
“If it helps,” he said softly, utterly sincere, “I do love you.”
It felt good to say it — like releasing something he’d been holding inside himself for years.
Cody’s eyes blew wide — like someone had just shoved him out of a dropship. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came. Color rose slowly in his cheeks, blooming high across his face.
Anakin let out a strangled noise. “I told you to wait until the meds wore off!” he hissed. “I said it twice, Master. I was very clear.”
“But it’s true,” Obi-Wan said, very reasonably. “And I thought he ought to know. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
“The fuss,” Anakin said through clenched teeth, “is that you’re high on painkillers!”
Ah. Yes. Painkillers.
That would explain the syrupy warmth in his limbs, the floatiness, and the complete absence of his usual restraint.
Obi-Wan had a regrettable history with analgesics. They didn’t just dull his pain — they sidestepped his self-control entirely, leaving him just conscious enough to comfortably blurt out every unfiltered thought and inconvenient truth he'd spent a lifetime learning not to say.
He turned back toward Cody, something bright blooming in his chest. Then he laughed — breathless and delighted, like he couldn’t quite help it.
Because, well, he couldn’t.
“Well,” he said, wryly, “nothing for it now.”
And pulled Cody in for another kiss.
Cody made a small noise against his lips, pulling back slightly.
“General —” he tried.
“Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan corrected.
“Obi-Wan,” Cody said, slightly breathless. “Maybe we should wait until the meds wear off.”
Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled. “Whatever for?”
“I just think,” he said, gently, “you might not feel the same way when you’re sober.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Obi-Wan agreed, sighing contentedly as Cody eased him back onto the pillows again. “As much as I enjoy the spinning, I’d really rather just feel you, my dear.”
Cody, impressively, turned redder.
“I think what the Commander means,” Anakin offered, exasperated, “is that you might not want to kiss him when your brain is working properly.”
“Oh, no fear of that,” Obi-Wan said reassuringly, eyes fluttering. “I always want to kiss him.”
Anakin stared at him, horrified.
Cody coughed and went very, very still.
And Obi-Wan drifted back into a dreamy half-sleep with a smile on his face, fingers still fisted in Cody’s blacks like a very determined tooka kitten.