Title: Of Beds and Padawans
Disclaimer: Not mine, George owns everything and rules their universe
Setting: A year before AOTC
Warnings: Slashy Jedi fluff?
Summary: A one-sided pseudo-discussion of nightly habits goes awry as Anakin takes Obi-Wan's meaning in a completely different direction than intended.
Obi-Wan blinked in mild annoyance as the filtered sunlight shone through the open window straight into his face. He had known there was something he had forgotten to do last night, but between Anakin's training, Council meetings, and small missions he just hadn't bothered. It wasn't a large irritant, like Anakin's stubbornness and insistence to do things *his* way even though he *knew* that Obi-Wan was the Master. He just loved to be difficult.
Sighing, Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, rubbing the sleep away and turning over into his back. He had managed to get halfway over before something stopped him. Obi-Wan blinked. There was something warm underneath his shoulder. And if he stilled himself, he could feel the thing moving.
Stretching out a hand, he felt more solid warmth before trailing up into the thing's hair until his hand clasped around a braid.
There was a Padawan in his bed.
Rolling over onto his stomach, Obi-Wan looked at Anakin's sleeping form. He was still sleeping peacefully after Obi-Wan had ended up half on top of him. The Jedi were usually light sleepers, the slightest movement should have awoken Anakin. And yet he had never quite gotten that. And on days where he could sleep in, he ignored it. The boy still had a lot of work ahead of him.
First being to get out of Obi-Wan's bed.
He could understand it when Anakin was younger and suffering from nightmares. Even now, the boy still crept into Obi-Wan's bed on some rough nights. But to find him in his bed on every off day? That was a habit his Padawan needed to be weaned out of. It didn't matter how he looked in the morning. With those...long lashes still against his soft skin or the way his full lips fell partly open and...Obi-Wan shot up in bed and started to shake Anakin awake. He wasn't going to have those thoughts of the boy who was...really not much of a boy anymore. More importantly it was wrong. Very wrong.
"What?" Anakin finally started moving drowsily, perfect lashes fluttering innocently against his face as he fought to open his eyes. He rolled over onto his back and stretched.
Obi-Wan's stomach dropped. Maybe waking him up wasn't the best idea. Instead of a sleeping back to look at, Anakin's bare chest, flexing muscles, and still closed eyes sent a deluge of new thoughts into Obi- Wan's already overworked mind. It especially didn't help when one of Anakin's hands trailed down his chest past perfect rose coloured... Obi-Wan jumped out of bed, grabbed his robe and muttered something about making breakfast.
Anakin became fully conscious as Obi-Wan was hurrying out the door. He watched him grab a robe and smiled, enjoying Obi-Wan's walk out of the room. He wasn't wearing anything else under his sleep pants and they were starting to get very thin.
The Padawan rolled over onto Obi-Wan's side of the bed and basked in the vacated warmth from his Master's body. He was always so warm and on certain nights it was all he could do not to curl up around him and sleep. If he could just use Obi-Wan's back or stomach as a pillow he'd be happy.
But Obi-Wan would never have it. Simply for the fact that he was Obi- Wan.
Anakin snorted and rolled over happily as he breathed in the waffle- like aroma that started drifting in from the kitchen.He'd have to take matters into his own hands very soon.
Picking himself up off the bed, Anakin made a great show of tugging the covers off of Obi-Wan's bed and wrapping them around himself. He wanted a piece of his Master with him wherever he went. Even if he was only a room away.
Making his way to the kitchen, completely bundled, he caught the incredulous look Obi-Wan gave him as he entered. Leaning against the cupboards, narrowed brow, and his mouth open in a 'what the hell', Anakin gave him his brightest, cheeriest smile before settling down at the table.
"Anakin...we have to talk."
Obi-Wan huffed lightly and gave Anakin his best 'Master glare' and stance, which, in sleep pants and a bath robe, wasn't very intimidating. Anakin tried to ward off the twitching at the corners of his mouth.
"Your sleeping habits. Anakin you're eighteen years old..."
"You have your own bed."
"Your own blankets," said Obi-Wan eyeing his quilt wrapped Padawan.
"You haven't had a nightmare in ages."
"So don't you think on off days your own bed would be more comfortable?"
"I don't know, Master?"
"Well maybe you should try it. I'll be gone a few days on a small mission to Cressia I, so, your own bed Padawan?"
Obi-Wan turned back to the waffles with the sinking feeling that he and his Padawan were still on opposite pages.
The mission passed quickly for Obi-Wan, though he still worried throughout the entire thing.
He really shouldn't have been though. He had left Anakin alone when the Council had sent him off before, so there should have been nothing to worry about. At least it would have been the case if he could get away from the nagging feeling that had plagued his stomach after Anakin had seen him off a few days before and had given him that odd little smile. So he was worried.
Walking back to his quarters, he tried to put the feeling out of his mind. What could Anakin have done anyway. He had course work to complete, training with the other Masters.
Obi-Wan sighed. He always thought too much where Anakin was concerned. He just couldn't help it. The boy was *different*. And it had nothing to do with his 'Chosen One' status.
Whether it was his ease in the Force or the fact that he still crawled into Obi-Wan's bed at night.
Hopefully the boy took to his own bed and stayed there, he didn't know how much more he could take of feeling Anakin's warm body pressed against his. Why couldn't he have been a Dashade? No attraction there. Though they were pretty extinct come to think of it.
Finally coming to the door to his quarters and entering, he was a little suspicious as to the quietness of the rooms. Even though it was late, Anakin was usually waiting up for him no matter the time. He could feel his Force signature though, so he was home...
Sighing and shaking his head, Obi-Wan decided that he was just being paranoid. Anakin was probably sleeping.
Hanging his cloak and picking up his bag, Obi-Wan headed into his bedroom and stopped short.
There was *still* a Padawan in his bed.
No, wait, correction.
There was a very *naked* Padawan in *his* bed.
Looking at the bed situated in his room, it was fair to conclude that the bed belonged, in fact, to Anakin. It took up considerably less of what his own did and he was positive that if he went to look in Anakin's room he'd find his own bed there.
Obi-Wan knew that their conversation had went tragically wrong. The brat had switched their beds around. And then there was the whole naked thing...
"I'm not sure about my bed Master, I tried it like you said but I think I still prefer yours," he said stretching out, what he thought was, seductively.
Anakin tossed Obi-Wan a saucy grin.
"I tried my own bed Master. Don't you want to reward me?"
Obi-Wan knew they were on opposite pages when he left. But on the other hand, a part of him reasoned, the boy *was* in desperate need of a spanking.
Back to Fiction Index