Chapter Text
somewhere in northern naboo
Anakin peers down at the driveway from the second story window, watching as the transport car skids to a stop right below. The tires crunch over gravel, loudly announcing the newcomer’s arrival.
Padmé settles in beside him so she can look through the window as well. He leans into her slightly.
“Usurper.” He mutters in Huttese under his breath. Padmé rolls her eyes and knocks against his shoulder with her own.
“Ani don’t be so melodramatic. This happens every summer, you should be used to it by now.”
“Yeah, so? Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He pouts.
The back door of the car is thrown open and a man slides out, shutting the door behind him and running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair. Anakin squints, assuming someone else, someone younger, would probably exit the car after him, but that doesn’t happen. The only other person that steps out is Rex from the driver’s side. He pops the trunk open and ambles over to get the man’s luggage.
“No way that’s him. He looks too old to be a student.” Anakin says.
“There’s no time limit on learning, Ani. You can go to graduate school at any age.” Padmé sounds exasperated.
He watches as Cliegg and Shmi bundle out from the front door to meet the man that’ll be kicking Anakin out of his room for the next three months.
Padmé gently tugs at his arm. “Come on, let’s go say hi. You know your parents are going to make you do it anyway.”
Sure enough, Shmi calls them both down a beat later. Anakin groans, shooting Padmé a glare when she laughs and pulls him along behind her.
Anakin is temporarily blinded by the sun as he steps through the front door. He squints and covers his face as his eyes adjust to the change in brightness, dragging his feet on the gravel before he stops next to Shmi. He lets his hand drop to his side and finally has a good look at the stranger up close.
He’s…not what Anakin expected. He looks a lot younger up close. Still older but not nearly as old as Anakin initially thought he was. Very polished and out together, despite the long day of traveling he’s just endured. Anakin can only tell he’s tired due to the bags under his eyes. His hair is a fair mix of blonde and brown with auburn highlights, and his eyes are a light sea green. It’s the beard, Anakin thinks. The beard makes him look older.
“Ani, this is our new grad student: Obi-wan Kenobi. Obi-wan, this is my baby Ani.” Shmi introduces him.
Anakin cringes. “Mom. It’s Anakin.” He corrects her. And he’s not a baby.
Shmi ignores him and then proceeds to embarrass him even further. “And this is his special friend, Padmé Naberrie.”
Special friend?! Seriously?! Anakin wouldn’t say he’s prone to blushing, but he can definitely feel his face getting hot. He sputters in indignation, but no actual words come out. Padmé, ever the diplomat, gracefully steps forward and saves him from his parents and himself.
“Obi-wan Kenobi, what a lovely name. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Padmé extends her hand for a shake but Obi-wan gently turns her hand over and brushes a kiss against her knuckles instead, making her giggle. Anakin narrows his eyes at the exchange.
“Hello Padmé. The pleasure is all mine.” He says in a lilting, coruscanti accent that Anakin immediately decides he can’t stand.
Obi-wan turns his attention to him and Anakin suddenly can’t breathe right. His chest feels tight and his stomach twists, like he should probably make a quick exit and run to the nearest bathroom or else he’ll shit himself in front of the ursurper. It’s Obi-wan, Anakin concludes. His stare is too intense, and he has an unnerving energy about him. He puts Anakin on edge. Anakin blinks at the hand that’s extended to him. For a moment, he’s scared to take it, to touch this man in any capacity, but then he gets pissed at his irrational fear and grabs Obi-wan into a firm grip, shaking twice. His hands are big and calloused, but still soft.
“Hello there, Anakin. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiles, making direct eye contact and Anakin’s thoughts slip absent. He yanks his hand away a little too fast and steps back, slightly off kilter.
“Uh…hey. Likewise. I’ll…I gotta take your bags up.” He pivots and goes to help Rex finish unloading the car.
Obi-wan comes up behind them as Rex hoists the last bag out of the car. Anakin frowns. God, it’s like this man packed his entire house and all his possessions into an oversized, overstuffed suitcase and a bag.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” Obi-wan says, reading Anakin’s mind, “I’m a terrible packer. Not used to traveling, I guess. Most of this will be getting shipped back to Coruscant without me when the summer’s over.”
Anakin shrugs. “S’fine.” He hauls the bag over his shoulder and grabs the handle of the suitcase. Obi-wan makes a noise.
“Oh. You’re very strong. I was going to help you with that, I know it’s heavy.”
“Yeah no, I got it. Um…my room is…you can just follow me.” Anakin mutters, almost under his breath.
They make the seemingly miles long trek up to Anakin’s (well, Obi-wan’s now) room, with Anakin stumbling every few steps under the heavy weight of Obi-wan’s luggage, and then flinching when the older man reaches out a hand to help him balance.
“Anakin, really,” He sounds exasperated, “I can at least drag the suitcase up.” He presses a warm hand onto Anakin’s lower back and Anakin flinches and stumbles again.
“We’re almost there.” He snaps, annoyed at his unusual clumsiness and Obi-wan for being a witness, if not the cause of it.
Upon their arrival to the room, Anakin unceremoniously dumps the bags at the foot of the bed. He watches as Obi-wan looks around, running a hand through his hair.
“Well. Welcome to my room. Yours now.” He juts his thumb in the direction of the bathroom, “We share a bathroom. I’ll be sleeping in the other room on the other side. If you need anything, just knock on the door.”
Anakin stares as Obi-wan gives him a grateful smile before gracelessly flopping face first onto the bed, his shoes still on. Obi-wan’s voice is muffled by the duvet, but Anakin thinks he says something along the lines of ‘thank you’ or maybe even ‘thank God’.
“Jira’ll ring the dinner bell when it’s ready.” He says to Obi-wan’s motionless form.
He waits a bit longer, but after Obi-wan makes no effort to move or say anything else, he rolls his eyes and stomps to the other room, slamming the door shut between them. It felt like dismissal, and Anakin hated being dismissed.
He stands in the middle of the room for a bit, not really knowing what to do with himself, with his body, with all the pent-up energy humming through him. After a moment, he settles down on to his bed, his hands tucked beneath his head, listening, not for anything in particular, just listening.
Some minutes pass by before he hears faint snoring that grows louder and louder as Obi-wan falls deeper into his sleep.
Anakin groans and presses his pillows to his ears. He’d never be able to sleep through that at night.