Title: Every Piece of You
Fandom: Star Wars - Prequel Trilogy
Pairing: Anakin/Obi-wan
Rating: PG-ish
Length: 1682
Content notes: Non-consensual face touching, possessive behavior
Summary: Obi-wan swears he's not bothered by Anakin's prosthetic. Anakin tests this theory while also testing Obi-wan's patience.



“Anakin, get down,” Obi-wan ordered, spinning swiftly and sliding his sabre neatly through the chest of the droid nearest. Focusing the Force, he ripped a piece of machinery from the wall and sent it flying towards the rest of the droids, halting their progress. “Come now, we must leave.”

“But Master, we need to make sure the droids ar-”

“That is not our mission. Our mission was to free the hostages and that’s been done.” Obi-wan grabbed Anakin’s lanky arm and pulled him up, frowning slightly now that he had to look up to meet Anakin’s intense gaze. “It’s time to leave.”

“But Master-”

“No, Anakin. We go now,” Obi-wan said and turned to rush away, sure his Padawan would follow. And Anakin did, though his steps were slow with reluctance and heavy with anger. Ahead, an elevator door was closing slowly and Obi-wan ran faster. “Anakin, hurry! The elevator is going to leave us.”

Anakin’s longer legs overtook Obi-wan’s pace and he dashed ahead, reaching the elevator and bracing the door open, visibly straining against the heavy metal that worked against him to close. “Hurry, Master,” he called out. “I can’t hold it for very long.”

Lips twitching at this role reversal, Obi-wan sped up; when he reached the elevator he slammed against Akakin, throwing them both against the far wall. The elevator slammed shut behind them and started its slow ascent. Obi-wan helped Anakin to his feet before leaning against the wall heavily, breath hissing between his teeth as he pressed his hands against his abdomen.

“Are you alright?”

Obi-wan attempted a smile. “Of course, Padawan. One of the droids popped off a lucky shot is all.” He pulled his hands away and looked down; blood seeped through his tan Jedi robes, staining it a deep red. “A very lucky shot.”

“Master!” Anakin grabbed his shoulders and forced him to sit, kneeling beside him. “You should have let me take care of them,” he said and when Obi-wan looked up at him, he was frowning darkly.

“Revenge isn’t befitting a Jedi,” Obi-wan said lightly, seeking to distract Anakin from his rage. He wasn’t above going back up and destroying what droids remained. “I’ll be fine, Anakin. It looks far worse than what it actually is. I’ll take more damage from you manhandling me than from enemy droids.” He meant for it to be a joke but Anakin jerked away, holding his metal hand out and inspecting it; hidden as it was by the leather glove, it looked perfectly normal.

“Did I hurt you?”

Obi-wan chuckled. “Just a little. I daresay I have bigger problems right now.”

Anakin’s jaw clenched and Obi-wan regretted saying anything. As the elevator door opened, Anakin pulled Obi-wan to his feet, carefully keeping his metal hand away from him. “Anakin, that’s not necessar-”

“Come, Master,” Anakin interrupted. “We need to get you to a medical droid.” His voice was cold and Obi-wan sighed, allowing himself to be tugged along.

****

After meeting with the healers - and dealing with the good-natured teasing that came from having been injured so by a droid - Obi-wan was allowed to go back to his rooms. Collapsing on the modest sofa, he leaned his head back against the cushion and dozed. For how long, he didn’t know, except when he woke up the room was considerably darker and he had the distinct feeling he was no longer alone.

“Anakin?”

“Master.” A shadow separated from the wall and came closer; Anakin’s face was sober as he sat down beside Obi-wan. “How are you feeling?”

Obi-wan huffed. “I’m quite alright, Padawan. My injury certainly isn’t worth all of this coddling.”

Anakin smiled faintly and looked down. Obi-wan followed his gaze down and saw his hand was bare, the metal gleaming dully in the dim light. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Anakin held up his hand, flexing the fingers gently. “I’m just practicing. Why, does it bother you?” The tone of his voice was odd and Obi-wan sighed, not in the mood to deal with his Padawan’s mood swings.

“Of course not, Anakin. That metal hand is a representation of your battle against a great evil.”

“A representation of losing against a great evil,” Anakin corrected, curling his hand into a fist. “I was too weak to stop Dooku.”

“Anakin-”

“Will you help me practice with it? While I’m good at using it as a weapon, my ability to have a light touch is lacking,” Anakin asked, casting a sidelong glance towards Obi-wan.

“Only if you promise to stop interrupting me,” Obi-wan said and that finally teased a real smile out of Anakin.

“A Jedi shan’t make promises he can’t keep,” Anakin said cheekily, turning until he faced Obi-wan directly. He held up his hand and Obi-wan sighed deeply, fondly, and held up his own hand, allowing his fingers to just barely touch Anakin’s.

“You’re incorrigible.”

Anakin tilted his head, flexing his fingers wider and then closing them a bit, tapping against Obi-wan’s. The metal was smooth and cool, while the joints of the fingers made the faintest whirring sounds as they flexed. Obi-wan hadn’t managed to get a good look at the prosthetic until now, not wanting to invade Anakin’s space about it, but it was a fine piece of machinery. A fine piece of machinery that was suddenly pressing against his face, stroking against his beard gently. .

“Anakin? What are you doing?”

Anakin smiled, eyes half-lidded. “I’m practicing a gentle touch, Master. Like we agreed.” His hand drifted back, sinking and curling into Obi-wan’s hair. Obi-wan expected to feel the tug of strands getting caught in the joints but there was none.

“I certainly don’t remember agreeing to this.”

Anakin looked away from his hand to meet Obi-wan’s gaze. “Does my hand truly not bother you, Master?”

Obi-wan frowned. “It does not. I’ll not tell you this again.”

“You just seem uncomfortable with it touching you.”

Obi-wan huffed. “I’m not bothered by a great many things but that doesn’t mean I want them pressed against my face, Padawan.” His eyes narrowed. “You are trying to manipulate me, though I know not why.”

Anakin ducked his head. “I feel like I keep failing you,” he said after a moment, his fingers tightening minutely in Obi-wan’s hair. “You shouldn’t have been injured today.”

A soft smile curled on Obi-wan’s mouth. So that was it. His young Padawan was simply feeling insecure. Reaching up, he chucked Anakin under the chin, forcing his gaze up. “My injury is my own fault. Well, mine and the droids,” he said with a rueful smile. “Don’t take blame that’s not rightfully yours, Anakin.”

“I should have protected you.”

“No. I’m the master here while you’re the Padawan. It’s my duty to protect you, not the other way around.”

Anakin was quiet for a moment. “Not forever,” he said, brow furrowed so deep it threatened to overtake his eyes. “Not forever, Obi-wan. Soon we’ll be on equal footing and I’ll be the one protecting you.”

Obi-wan chuckled. “That’s not quite how this works. Once you become a Knight you’ll have your own Padawan to look after and I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Replace me?” Anakin got up on one knee, towering over Obi-wan on the sofa, his hand a tight fist in Obi-wan’s hair. His other hand cupped Obi-wan’s cheek and where the metal hand had been cool, his flesh hand was hot. “I don’t want to take a Padawan. Nor do I want to leave you.” He leaned closer. “I want always to have you by my side, Master.” His thumb stroke gently across Obi-wan’s cheekbone and his gaze grew heated as it moved from Obi-wan’s eyes to his mouth and Obi-wan knew he needed to stop this, this, whatever this was. It wasn’t unusual for Padawans to get innocent crushes on their Masters but to act on it was unthinkable.

“Attachment is not the way of the Jedi, Padawan,” he said, pushing against Anakin’s chest. Anakin countered this by leaning hard against Obi-wan’s hands.

“Then once again I’m failing,” Anakin said, an odd half-smile on his face. “But maybe in this instance failure is acceptable.” He leaned closer, his breath warm on Obi-wan’s face.

Obi-wan jerked backwards as much as he could, nervousness turning to panic. “Anakin, stop this now,” Obi-wan said, his voice sharp enough to cut through whatever haze had taken over his Padawan. Anakin froze, eyes widening, before moving backwards. This time strands of Obi-wan’s hair caught in his hand and Obi-wan winced, immediately reaching up to rub his scalp.

“Anakin, what has come-”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said, eyes wide. “I’m...I didn’t mean-”

“It’s been a long day,” Obi-wan said. “Fatigue is the enemy of good decisions and clarity of thought and feelings.” He thought to give his Padawan an out but instead of accepting it, Anakin stood quickly, putting the glove on with quick, jerky motions.

“I am not so tired that I misunderstand my own feelings. I only falter in the way I communicate them,” he declared. “Master-”

“Stop.” Obi-wan held up a hand. “Whatever it is you’re going to say, stop. This is...you are addled. You need rest.”

“I’m not addled,” Anakin said. “I only wish to-”

“You need rest,” Obi-wan stressed. He pasted a blandly reassuring smile on his face. “We both do. Things will be clearer in the morning.” He hoped dearly that that was the case and that whatever had come over Anakin would be gone.

Anakin studied him for a moment. “Alright, Master,” he said. A rare concession, Obi-wan thought before Anakin continued. “I think you’re right. Things will be clearer in the morning.” There was an odd tone to his voice, a quiet little threat that things might be clearer in the morning but not in the way Obi-wan wanted.

“Anakin-”

“Good night, Master.” Anakin flashed a smile as if he could feel Obi-wan’s misgivings, before heading to his rooms. Obi-wan watched him go before rubbing his hands over his face. First Anakin’s headstrong nature and now this. His unruly Padawan would surely be the death of him.