Braid | Obikin

6.

Towering from the mastodontic desk in the middle of her shiny office, wearing purple brocade, a gravity-defying hairdo, and a quirked eyebrow, Padme is intimidating - and she knows it.
I love this side of her, she looks like royalty and makes me proud I'm her husband. Still, I prefer when she intimidates someone else.

"You killed them all with that speech, angel. Perfect diction and smooth delivery, despite last night interruption... maybe thanks to it?" I try one of my smirks, but her glare convinces me to desist. "Nonetheless, I agree I shouldn't have kept you from your work. In my defence, you're really, really hard to resist; I can't be blamed for wanting my sexy wi-"

"Yesteday, however, your plans included this 'sexy wife' as a mere device." She taps the desk-top with her perfectly oval nails. "Come on, Ani. Politicians know a lie when they see one."

"Padme, I..." Stop fumbling. "Wanted you, truly. But I craved some release as well. I'm so tense, you know, with the war, all the responsibilities, and my Master..."

"It almost seems Obi-Wan has something to do with last night."

"Dear Force, no! It's just that... Being with him has become incredibly straining, okay? I keep failing him, and we argue all the time. It's clear he can't stand me."

"By Shiraya, can't you see that the man adores you?" I can tell my simper doesn't completely spoil my penitent look because her voice softens. "The problem is that you're two dorks, Ani, so big there's no way in the Galaxy you can admit to each other that you care - your closest approximation being that constant teasing and grumble of yours. Well, I regret to inform you that adults do not drop hints just to get frustrated if they're not picked up. You ought to tell him how you feel."

I look out of the transparisteel partitions, at the late afternoon commuters' jam getting worse.

I want you, Master, so much I'm not thinking straight. I want you to want me.

My nervous chuckle makes Padme roll eyes. "You know what? Keep arguing like the di'kute you are, I don't care. Just, do not ever dream of sleeping with me again because you're mad at him."

I bow my head, mutter an apology, and promise.
Padme still looks annoyed, but more in a benevolent, resigned way. Probably, this is the most ground I can recover, today - unless I put the small sofa where her guests are usually served Sapir tea to better use. It might work, if I'm tender enough. She almost seems to be expecting it.

I circumnavigate the desk to take her hand in mine and make our fingers tangle. Padme is stiff when I kiss her, so I suck and lick her lower lip until she must let me in.
Unfortunately, tender doesn't seem to suit me, after all the rebuking. I'd rather get back in command, instead. I tilt her head back and take possession of her mouth completely.
The moment I start imagining his lips in place of hers, I must take a step back.

"I'm so sorry..." I sigh, pressing my palm against my forehead. "Obi-Wan must be looking for me. He will kill me if I skip our evening meditation again."

"Force forbid!" Slightly breathless, Padme replaces some hairpin behind her ear before showing me the door. "After all, I've always knew there would've been more than the two of us to this marriage. I must... see Bail in half an hour, anyway. I'll bring him your regards."

Well, cheap shot.

Anger grows up inside of me as I exit the Senate Building.
Every attempt to fix the messes I make only karks things up some more - even not wanting  to be dishonest again to my wife backfired!
I was doing just fine, with a delightful wife, a charming Master and my knighting so close... For kriff's sake, why do I have to always ruin everything?
I'm worse each day, I must find a remedy before this ends in disaster.
Predictably, the first one that pops into my mind consists in pinning my Master against the closest wall to then proceed to fuck the hell out of him (I suspect the other way around would work as well, as long as he's naked and desperate for me half I am for him.) I mutter a curse because this mental image alone makes me hardish; it's clear I can't be with Padme until I'm this sick - let alone anywhere close to him. I should simply stay the kriff away from them both while I get myself together - kind of ironical seeing that, right now, I'm risking a speeding ticket just to see him sooner.

Back home, Obi-Wan is drinking from the kitchen sink; a towel around his hip, dripping and suuri red.

"Hot shower got me thirsty," he explains with a disarming smile, wiping his moustache with the back of his hand.

As I gape like a total ord'ini at the droplets on his chest hair, I quite re-evaluate the 'fuck the hell out of him' solution to my problems.

He has to wave his hand before my face to get the eye contact necessary to ask me to check his holopad as he gets dressed.

I docilely scan the highlighted doc - mission stuff from Windu, a dozen pages of it - although my mind is actually busy computing different data.

Stating he is a man, Obi-Wan was implying he does have the needs of man. Even though there's no realistic chance for me to actually end up into his bed, I could still attempt to dig out some of those missing fragments of him I crave. Hopefully, they'll bring me relief enough to let me focus back on my marriage and duty.
I'm aware he'll loathe me just for trying, and himself for every bit he might concede, but I can't go on pining like this. I have no other choice (for Padme, if not for me, given that I can't even kiss her anymore!)

When Obi-Wan gets back - damp hair brushed and parted, neatly dressed but bare feet. - I'm resolute in my new intents and so enthralled by their possible outcomes I still have no idea what the mission is about. He asks me how I found it, and I can only vaguely reply that's fine with me.

"Glad to learn you finally overcame your irrational, unknight-like prejudices toward sand." He punches my arm and grins at my perplexed frown. "Let me tell you; just in time. The Council decreed this morning that, since Padawans are supposed to be already proving their worth on the battlefield, the trials are to be indefinitely suspended. Their own Masters will be the ones deciding when they are suitable for the Knighting ceremony - a simplified version of it, at least... My intel says yours will deem you to be ready as soon as we're back from this mission."

For a long time, I wanted to believe that Obi-Wan couldn't see me in that light in reason of the unequal nature of our relationship - not wanting to even risk exploiting his authority toward me. If ever the fall of this reasonable premise theoretically gives me a chance, it will more likely prove that he simply isn't interested.

My lack of reaction makes his beaming smile fade. He squeezes my shoulder, making this the second time he touches me without a reason, today. "Oh, Anakin... I know, right? Rites of passage are meaningful, but wartimes demands us some sacrifices. We'll still find a way to properly celebrate, I promise."

There are just a few days of uncertainty left, just a few days to delude myself that what holds him back is just that I'm under his care and command.
Our Bond and our closeness are doomed. The moment to risk it all is now.