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“We had an agreement,” Obi-Wan snaps with the bruised dignity of a wet tooka and has the stiff-backed glare of the same. “No weaponry metaphors in bed.”


Annoyance has painted an alluring flush high up on his cheeks. Framed by hair in disarray from Cody’s own hands, it’s no wonder that Cody is unable to resist. “Most people would be thrilled to know-”


“Cody. Stop.”


“That my deece is-”


“Cody I swear-”


Locked and loaded-”


“Absolutely not,” Obi-Wan hisses and promptly shoves Cody directly out of his single bed. Despite his martial training, Cody is too busy giggling to get his arms up in time: he goes tumbling to sprawl nude across the floor. Distantly he’s thankful that the area rug means it’s not cold durasteel under his rear. Obi-Wan harrumphs, harrumphs like an indignant abuela in a Yavinese holonovella. If he thinks that would in any way stop Cody’s laughter, he is very, very wrong.


“You are a complete menace of a man,” Obi-Wan grumbles as Cody cackles anew. He is swept up in the hilarity of the moment; that’s his excuse for why he flips Obi-Wan a pair of finger-blasters. The response is entirely expected: a pillow flies off the couch and slaps the Cody across the face. “Honestly! How are you worse than Anakin?”


At the mention, Cody giggles and attempts to stifle it below a badly strangled cough. The glare Obi-Wan shoots him for that is pure, unwavering poison for five long seconds. But there, at the corner of his eyes, lurks an edge of humor that Cody knows well. He just has to hold out.


Finally, exactly as Cody expects, Obi-Wan breaks. He sighs. “Oh go on then.”


Cody descends into howls of laughter. “Your kid, Obi-Wan!” he wheezes. “Your karking kid.”


“Yes well,” Cody’s general sniffs. He attempts, in vain, to straighten his beard. Its a tell, Cody has longed learned, meant Obi-Wan is trying desperately to regain control of the conversation. “I can only hope he and your little brother will next choose to wreak merry havoc on you. You will have deserved it.”


“He’s got your dossier memorized,” Cody laughs. “If there’s a more fitting gift, I can’t think of it.”


Obi-Wan’s head peaks over the side of the bed, head cocked inquisitively. “Dossier?”


His general is a language and sociology nerd, Cody thinks fondly. “He knows you well,” he translates. Obi-Wan nods. Cody already knows he’s not going to forget it, this clever, gorgeous disaster of a man.


“What in the Force are you smug over now?” Obi-Wan asks with a touch of exasperation curling his accent sharper. There’s fondness too, and he’s trying not to smile. He acts like smiling would encourage Cody’s bad behavior. Cody’s never needed encouragement.


“Life,” Cody says, fully honest. This is one of those good moments he’ll hold in his mind forever. “Sharing an afternoon with my brother. My partner’s kid liking me enough to try to win my approval with hilarious gifts. My partner naked in his bed, watching me.” Cody stretches, sinuous in a way he’s gotten quite a bit of practice in. He knows what it does to his arms, his chest, his thighs. Obi-Wan doesn’t have to mention just how smug he’s gotten. “Can’t keep his eyes off me.”


Obi-Wan doesn’t rebut. He couldn’t. His eyes are a physical caress down the length of Cody’s body. He follows them with a barely-there stroke of his knuckles, from the scar on Cody’s face, down the center of his chest. Lingers low on Cody’s stomach. “Full of yourself, aren’t you ‘alor1?” he purrs. Cody shivers with satisfaction. Hmm, damn this man. He’s got his finger right on Cody’s trigger, doesn’t he.


Obi-Wan’s eyes flash. “But you’ll have to satisfy yourself with nothing but the view if you don’t stop the weapon puns,” he continues waspishly and very pointedly folds pulls his hands away and primly folds them across his chest.


Karking mind-reading Jedi.


Cody is hardly about to let that stand.


“I think,” he growls. He rolls to his knees and Obi-Wan shoots him a look of mingled excitement and trepidation. “You’d complain a lot less during a… live fire exercise.”


Obi-Wan really is gorgeous worked up into a strop. “You are really fond of the floor down there, aren’t you Cody? I do hope it’s comfortable.”


“Really, Kenobi?” Cody rumbles. “You’re going to object to ‘I want to holster your deece’ enough to not let me swallow your cock?”


Obi-Wan swallows. His eyes go straight to Cody’s mouth. Cody smirks. Got you.


“Well,” he starts. He clears his throat. “That isn’t really. Well.”


Cody chuckles, hauls Obi-Wan to the edge of his bed. Obi-Wan still hasn’t admitted out loud how much he enjoys being man-handled. But even a movement as simple as this has him hardening so quickly that, if Cody wasn’t already smug bastard at heart, he’d certainly be one now.


“Force, Cody,” Obi-Wan chokes. He’s already panting by the time Cody slips one gorgeous, pale thigh over his shoulder. Cody places one small, demure kiss to the inside of Obi-Wan’s thigh and smiles sweetly at his flushed face.


“Fire at will,” he says, cheekily.


Cody swallows him down before he can protest.