SO glad you reblogged that list of duolingo prompts, and only if you want:
maybe 33. “My compliments to your mother!” but, like---hopeless cook obi-wan to anakin?
I'm so happy you sent a prompt! I'm sorry it took me a bit to write but I'm coming to terms that I'm a super slow creator due to several different reasons and such
Anyways, here is the prompt list if anyone wants to send me another prompt
This is a little longer than I expected but we get Argentinean Anakin, golden eyed Anakin and a terrible cook Obi-Wan, with some of his mishaps being inspired by real life events (I was a sleepy child when it happened, okay, you can't judge me) Hope you enjoy!
33. “My compliments to your mother!”
“So, what are we going to eat tonight?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning on the kitchen island and shamelessly staring at Anakin’s ass as he leaned down and took a pan out of the oven. “It smells good!”
Anakin huffed from the heat and closed the oven’s door. “We’re eating empanadas, my mother’s recipe.” He explained, putting the pan on the counter and effortlessly moving the empanadas to a plate, making a neat pile. “If only to avoid you burning the whole floor down with one of your cooking adventures.” Anakin added, turning his head just enough so he could blink at Obi-Wan, making clear the comment was not mean-natured.
Obi-Wan huffed and rolled his eyes. “Not all of us inherited our mother’s skills in the kitchen.” He complained. “We simply have to make do with what we were given.”
Anakin finally turned around and put the pile of empanadas in between them, sitting down on the stool on his side of the island and grabbed one empanada, taking a bite as he stared at Obi-Wan with both eyebrows mockingly raised, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He swallowed quickly and quipped back “multiplying by zero is still zero, Obi-Wan!”
He huffed and grabbed his own empanada. “I really tried this time.” He pouted, making Anakin laugh, his golden eyes closing as he chuckled.
“What is that thing that your grandfather says? Do or do not, there is no try.” Anakin emulated the way old Yoda spoke. “I think you should take his advice and, you know, do not.”
Anakin’s teasing wasn’t enough to stop Obi-Wan, though. And so, the next week he had Anakin sitting in front of him at his own house, his friend staring dubiously at the perfectly cooked gruel Obi-Wan had put in front of him.
“What is it?” He asked, when Anakin didn’t even hint that he was going to pick the spoon and start eating.
“Where is the sauce?” Anakin asked, briefly meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes with his own and then glaring back at the plate set in front of him. “Or the cheese?”
“You know I can’t make sauce without ruining my pan forever.” Obi-Wan shot back. “And I know it’s traditional to make gruel with sauce at your house but I promise I followed the recipe and it tastes good so please give it a try and maybe don’t compare it to how your mother does it?”
Finally, Anakin grabbed the spoon and picked some gruel on it. His face was neutral at first but then he grimaced and Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped. “Is it bad?”
“Eh…” Anakin began, shrugging. “It’s not bad per se,” he continued. “It just tastes like nothing.”
Obi-Wan huffed, frustrated, and grabbed his own spoon. “Well, you’ll have to tolerate my flavourless gruel because there is nothing else to eat tonight in this house.”
He pretended he didn’t see Anakin roll his eyes and kept eating.
It was raining hard when Anakin knocked on the door, curls plastered to his forehead and golden eyes shining with unshed tears. He had an empty plate on his trembling hands and his lower lip was trembling.
“Jesus, Anakin!” Obi-Wan said, shuffling Anakin inside and letting him dripping on his doormat as he frantically looked for some towels. “What happened?”
He took the plate from Anakin’s hands and handed him the towel, turning around to give the man some privacy. “Take off your clothes, I’ll make you some tea to warm up.”
As he heard Anakin shift around, he stared at the plate puzzledly. It wasn’t one of Anakin’s, as far as he was aware and it most certainly wasn’t one of his. It was absolutely tasteless in design. “Feel free to choose any clothes from my closet!” He exclaimed when he heard Anakin stop moving.
Some minutes later, Anakin was entering the kitchen. He seemed calmer, but still down. “Can you add some milk to it?” Anakin asked, his voice soft.
“Of course! Go to the living room, I’ll be there soon.” Obi-Wan ordered while opening the fridge without looking. He stared as Anakin dragged his feet towards the couch and poured the milk into the cup. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Anakin flattened even more against the couch. “Dooku just broke up with me.”
Obi-Wan pressed his lips together and remained neutral. He had never liked Dooku, he often seemed pretentious and tended to undermine Anakin’s brilliance in front of other people.
All that without counting his personal jealousy towards the man for being the one dating Anakin and not appreciating him as he should.
But now was not the time to celebrate Anakin being free from a frankly terribly toxic relationship but to offer support and comfort. So he put the cup on the low table in front of Anakin and hugged him towards his chest.
Anakin followed without complaints, continuing on his rant. “He said some shit I can’t remember now and I threw a plate to his face.” Obi-Wan snorted then. “I can’t believe I wasted years on this guy.” He sobbed, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to rub his back.
They stayed like that for some minutes before Anakin dried his tears with his hands and straightened from where he was slumped against Obi-Wan. “I know it’s my turn to cook but could we order in tonight?”
“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan answered. “I’ll take care of it.”
With a little sniff and a nod, Anakin finally leaned forwards and grabbed the cup of tea Obi-Wan had made for him. He closed his eyes and sighed at the warmth coming from the cup before taking a long sip.
He immediately blanched and spit the whole thing back into the cup, coughing and gagging. He left a curse in Spanish and put the cup back on the table, turning towards Obi-Wan. “What the hell is this?!” He accused.
“What? It’s just tea, I did it like you always like it.” Obi-Wan exclaimed back, grabbing the cup himself and trying it himself. With great difficulty, he swallowed it as Anakin declared “It tastes like vomit!”
“I don’t understand what happened, I did it exactly as I always do.” Obi-Wan insisted, prompting Anakin to walk towards the kitchen and aggressively open the fridge.
“Holy shit, Obi-Wan,” He said, as Obi-Wan arrived at the kitchen. “Did you put yogurt in my coffee?”
Obi-Wan paled. “Fuck.” He covered his eyes as Anakin began laughing. “Don’t laugh, I was so worried about you that I must have mixed them up when taking one out of the fridge!”
Anakin continued laughing as he put the yogurt back inside and then hugged Obi-Wan close, letting him hide his face on his chest as Anakin pet his hair. “Thank you, Obi-Wan, at least I’ll remember this day not as the day I got dumped but the day you almost poisoned me with your tea.”
“You can help me only if you promise to keep to the cutting table part of it.” Anakin pointedly said as Obi-Wan neared the kitchen. He was once again preparing some dish he had learned from his mom for them both to enjoy.
Since his breakup, Anakin had seemed a bit lighter, like a huge weight had come off his shoulders. He had been spending more time with Obi-Wan, and they had become closer in ways that made Obi-Wan yearn for more, their quick banter turned into what could only be flirting.
And yet, Anakin seemed to be unaware of what he was doing. Obi-Wan had come to the conclusion that he would need to say something obvious before Anakin realised what was going on.
Obi-Wan slid into place, the kitchen knife in his hand and a pile of carrots, potatoes and yams next to the cutting table. He started slowly, easing into it as Anakin moved around the kitchen, checking out different pots, glasses filled with varied seasonings and so on.
“I’m not that bad, you know, I can stir the pot without burning the place down.” He teased Anakin. He got a snort back as Anakin threw him a side smirk.
“And risk ruining my precious figure with whatever poison you manage to slip in the pot while I’m not looking? This body that my mother gave me?” Anakin shot back, striking a silly pose, leaning against the kitchen wall.
There it was, an opportunity. Obi-Wan looked Anakin up and down, letting his eyes take his time in each part put on display. The silence turned heavy and charged, Anakin’s cheeks flushing as Obi-Wan finally met his eyes. “My compliments to your mother!” Obi-Wan finally smirked, watching how Anakin’s face turned completely red at his words and he lost his balance.
He held eye contact as Anakin processed what had just happened. With lips pressed tightly together and golden eyes showing a mix of suspicion and what Obi-Wan thought could be hope, Anakin got closer to him. Obi-Wan wisely put the knife on the cutting table before pushing his hand softly into Anakin’s curls.
Anakin kept searching for something in Obi-Wan’s eyes, so he kept himself relaxed and open. And then, Anakin looked down, smiling shyly, the way Obi-Wan loved. With gentle hands, he grabbed Obi-Wan’s limp hand hanging at his side and rubbed Obi-Wan’s knuckles. Finally, he looked up again.
“Maybe I should compliment your mother, Obi-Wan.”
It prompted a hearty laugh from Obi-Wan before he tugged Anakin closer by his curls and pressed their lips together. He opened Anakin’s lips with his own and licked into his mouth, enjoying how Anakin tried to get closer as they kissed.
When they separated to catch their breaths, Obi-Wan dragged his beard on Anakin’s cheek, earning himself a gasp before he reached Anakin’s earlobe, dropping a wet kiss on it.
“Why don’t you put the stew in the fridge and we order some food tonight instead?”
Anakin’s nod was eager, and it made Obi-Wan chuckle as he leaned in again for another kiss.
