all this talk of a drenched obi is making me think of a very innocent very pure and extremely tense “walked in on you in the shower” moment with padawan!obi......
; STEAMsummary: i raise you one more -- running into one another in the bathspairing: handmaiden!reader x padawan!obi-wana/n: hahahhahahah did someone order sexual tension
You stiffly clear your throat.
The baths in the palace were usually quiet around this time. You’d come to find that late in the evening you didn’t need to worry about running into anyone and, majority of the time, could bathe in peace.
Not tonight, it seems.
The deep, marble-set pools of hot water smelt of fruits and flowers, fed by one of the hot springs running beneath the Theeds Palace and were lit by the hanging crystal lights along the tall, ornately painted ceiling. Steam hangs low across the water, hazing the room in a warm glow.
You hadn’t expected to run into the Jedi Padawan here nor now -- certainly not when he’s waist deep in the water and scrubbing at the spiked buzz-cut of his hair, having just returned from a visit to the Gungans in the Eastern swamps.
“Oh.”
Wide, blue-gray eyes pin you down as you suddenly whips around and sinks deep into the water. Up to his chin.
“I --I’m sorry.”
You swallow down your shock, skin pricking with embarrassment as you duck your head and grip your towel a bit tighter. “No, no -- I... Do you mind if I...?”
If you get in?
Obi-Wan blinks. He then shakes his head, meekly swallowing down any vocalization -- he’s sure if he speaks, his words with shatter and squeak and he will lose any sense of pride he’d built in himself in the years after puberty. You have a wicked way of reducing him to a mere puddle. And now, still settled deep in the water, Obi-Wan has to try and remember how to function knowing he’ll be mere meters from you, naked.
The whole ordeal is painful -- only because he’s never been good at averting his gaze from things he finds beautiful, but he does for his own sake; you say nothing, only make a point of picking a bench far from the stairs he’d entered the baths from and settled your towel, comb and robe there.
He’s fiddling with his Padawan braid when you finally enter the water, sending steaming ripples across the baths as you settle low into the pool just like him. Maybe it’s a bit childish, hiding from one another like this -- but, Obi-Wan reasons that if he were to truly see you, bathing naked in the baths in the glow of the steam, his heart would give out, he’d slip below the water and drown, never to be seen or heard from again.
A rather wonderful way to go, really, if he was being honest with himself.
Not that Qui-Gon would appreciate it. If Qui-Gon knew about the way you two had held hands in the gardens earlier that day, the way he’d kissed the corner of your mouth all for a smile, Obi-Wan doubted his Master would appreciate that either.
The mud from the swim earlier in the day -- visiting the Gungan’s Eastern regional clan -- was still caked in his scalp. As much as Obi-Wan felt the need to run for the sake of his beating heart, he also couldn’t stand the feeling; and so, the Padawan moved to continue scrubbing at his scalp with the rose-scented soap he’d assumed was for hair.
(He wasn’t entirely sure. It looks like shampoo. Smelt nice enough. None of the bottles were labeled -- just intricate and crystal.)
You move slowly through the water, toes reaching to push you up at the deepest part of the pool as you move towards the middle -- the floating marble counter was home to a wide array of soaps and salts and salves.
Obi-Wan is staring out of the corner of his eye, fingers working a hard lather in his hair, as you swim around the collection of soaps and pull yourself up the counter and reach for a bottle on the third tier of the shelf.
His heart stutters as you push up on your palms, rising our of the water high enough that he spies two dimples along the base of your spine -- an image that strikes him right in the gut. One that will stick with him for months to follow, no doubt, when it’s late and he’s alone and he’s biting his knuckles as takes care of himself while thinking more about the image. Your hair sticks to your shoulders, running rivers of water off your skin as you snag the bottle and slip back below the water.
He’s stuck in his place, hands having stopped moving moments ago and you notice. It’s rather cute if you’re being honest. His cheeks are flush from the heat of the water and his hair is strewn about in light pink suds. His Padawan braid clings to his neck and chest as he stands there, water stopping above his hipbones. Obi-Wan Kenobi is a sight to behold; slack-jawed, flustered and naked as the day he was born in the baths of the Naboo Palace, alone with the woman of his dreams whom he’d kissed earlier that afternoon in the sprawling gardens of Theed.
Bookishly picturesque.
Until he gets soap in his eye and curses, that is.
You muffle a laugh, stealing a glance his way as you place the shampoo on the side of the bath and gather some into your hands -- he’s gone and dunked himself under water completely now, emerging with a disgruntled look on his dimpled face.
“You alright over there?”
It’s soft. It echoes.
Obi-Wan makes a soft sound of discomfort, gathering water in his hands and splashing his face once more before speaking. “Remind me never to visit the swamps with Jar-Jar again.”
“Oh no.”
You make a face. He raises both his brows and quirks his head to the side, a small laugh huffing out his nose as he does. “How I’ve gotten mud in some places, I do not know.”
It’s your turn to laugh -- light and melodic -- as you comb the shampoo through your hair and lather it quickly. Obi-Wan is mesmerized by the action, blue eyes glued to you entirely. You’ve submerged yourself deep enough to let his imagination roam; but the curves of your body are there and if he looks hard enough, he’d see them.
But, he doesn’t, mostly because he’s trying not to faint, drown, and perish at the hands of your insurmountable beauty.
For Qui-Gon’s sake, if not his.
So, you both sit meters away, glowing in the haze of the baths and swallowing down the ache of something more than affection -- for now.
