Written for @codywanweek. Prompt #2: Fix-it. I really, really enjoy unlikely ways of getting rid of Palpatine, so.... (Established relationship and spicy shenanigans involving a shower included.)
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They should have had time, was the thing. They were nowhere close to Coruscant when Cody suggested that they take a moment to work on Obi-Wan’s stress levels. Obi-Wan had nearly declined anyway - they needed to prepare for whatever the Separatists had in store for them - but issues tied to Mandalore always left him feeling… hollow inside. Unbalanced. Cold.
And so he nodded, shivering when they finally reached his quarters and Cody pulled him closer, kissing his mouth. The jokes about his stress levels had followed them throughout the war, mentioned once or twice in the company of others.
He’d once heard a trooper advise Cody that “the General needed help with his stress levels,” and choked trying not to laugh. The memory curved his mouth into a smile. He was mostly sure none of the men would have made such a suggestion if they knew what it entailed.
Cody hummed, pulling away just a little to ask, “Feeling better already?”
“Not quite better, yet,” Obi-Wan said, thinking, still, that they had time.
“Let’s shower, then,” Cody said, walking backwards, tugging Obi-Wan along towards the fresher. “You always feel better after you’re clean.”
Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow at him, “Oh, do I?”
“Well, you’re going to this time,” Cody said, and then they were through the door, and his hands were everywhere. They left armor and clothes behind, haphazard, before Cody nudged him into the fresher, elbowing on the warm water.
Obi-Wan made a brief noise of protest. “We’re on restriction--”
“We’re on the way to Coruscant,” Cody countered, with a shrug, following him in, and Obi-Wan abruptly cared much less about how much water they were using. “We’ll resupply her there. Believe me, everyone is using water showers right now.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, but Cody pushed close to him, pressing him back against the cool metal, and, anyway, he hadn’t been planning to say anything important. He curled an arm around Cody’s back, pulling him closer, the water making their skin slick.
And they should have had time, so Obi-Wan only groaned when Cody eventually tugged at him, getting him to turn. They should have had time, time enough for Cody to plant one hand by his shoulder, the other down ever so much lower, fingers covered in lubricant the water kept trying to wash away.
They should have had time, and so it was a jarring and unpleasant surprise when Obi-Wan felt them drop out of hyperspace. He had one forearm on the shower wall, leaning his weight against it. Cody was moving behind him, both hands on his hips, each thrust so hard that it lifted Obi-Wan up onto the balls of his feet and drove a noise from his throat and--
“Kriff,” Obi-Wan panted, at the same time that alarms started going off, everywhere. He had a hand wrapped around himself, he’d been so close, but there were -- “We need to--”
“It’ll wait five clicks,” Cody gasped back, and, when Obi-Wan opened his mouth, he pulled out. Obi-Wan thought he’d agreed and felt a moment of heady disappointment, but Cody was only gripping at him, turning him, and oh, Obi-Wan should have been far too slippery to lift in such a way, but--
Obi-Wan gripped at Cody’s shoulders, decided five clicks wasn’t that long, and listened when Cody growled, against his ear, voice command sharp, “Come on, give it to me.”
The back of Obi-Wan’s head hit the wall, he swore, falling over that edge all at once, feeling Cody follow behind him. And then they really had no time. They scrambled, knocking the water off and then back on again because Obi-Wan needed to rinse off.
They barely toweled off. Obi-Wan was damp under his robes, but that couldn’t be helped. He dragged his fingers through his hair and called it good enough, envious of Cody’s shorter trim. He shoved his damp feet into boots, grimacing, and Cody said, “Here, you’re going to need this,” holding out his lightsaber.
Obi-Wan flashed him a smile, feeling better, despite everything. “Thank you,” he said, and brushed one more kiss against Cody’s mouth as he clipped it to his belt. They were out the door only moments after the alarms started. Obi-Wan sprinted for the hangar, getting information about what had happened over his radio, ignoring the little tinge he felt with each step.
“Where were you?” Anakin demanded, when Obi-Wan burst into the hangar. He was already by his fighter, looking ready to vibrate from his skin.
“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said, flashing him a smile. “I was… occupied. You could have gone on without me.”
Anakin scoffed, shaking his head, as though the idea had not occurred to him and as though Obi-Wan were foolish to suggest it. But then, he’d barely been out of Obi-Wan’s sight since they’d left Ahsoka. Obi-Wan could feel the tangle of his emotions in the Force; he’d always poorly handled losing people.
“Come on,” Anakin said. “We’ll just have to make up time.”
Obi-Wan thought they did well enough, really. He kept thinking that, right up until they made it to the command level of the Separatist battle cruiser over Coruscant, where the Chancellor… should have been.
He was there, technically. He was also, unfortunately, in at least two pieces. Count Dooku stood near the body, his hands clasped behind his back, looking out the tremendous viewports at the battle behind.
Anakin yelled something mindless, making to charge forward. Obi-Wan managed to catch him back, suspecting a trap. And anway, rushing in would not accomplish anything. They were already too late. “What have you done?” Obi-Wan asked, tearing his gaze off of the Chancellor’s headless body.
Dooku turned to look at him, his eyes yellowed and his expression grave. He said, “Let’s just say…. I had some time to think. Enough to realize that we were all better off with him dead.”
Anakin snapped, “We’re going to--”
“I’d like to be taken to the Temple,” Dooku cut in, lifting his chin imperiously. “I’d like to speak with my old Master. I think he’ll be very interested to hear what I have to tell him about the…. Dearly departed Chancellor.”
Obi-Wan looked over at Anakin, still vibrating with anger, looked back at Dooku, considered that the entirety of the Force suddenly felt… lighter, and said, “Alright. We’ll bring you in.” After all… why not?
The next hours were a blur of revelations and confusion. Obi-Wan came out of a Council meeting with a ringing head, wondering how they were going to explain everything to the Senate. Cody peeled himself away from the wall when Obi-Wan stepped out of the chambers, reports ready to deliver about the state of their fleets and the currently scattered movements of the Separatists.
Obi-Wan nodded, gave orders, and tried to convince himself that this wasn’t all a dream. He rubbed his face, tired, when they reached his quarters. Cody followed him inside and something in his shoulders relaxed.
“Well,” Obi-Wan said, considering all that had happened through the day, considering the change to the state of the galaxy, and considering, finally, how filthy he felt. “How do you feel about another shower?”
