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The job isn't that hard. Physically, at least. He just has to stand there during breakfast and make sure no crazy person comes to assassinate the king. Standing stock still for about two hours while Obi-Wan slowly chews his way through a couple of dishes isn't that much of a hardship.
Mentally, of course, is another topic altogether.
He's had this job for, what, three months now? Specifically breakfast guard duty. Literally just guarding Obi-Wan while he eats breakfast, staying silent a few steps behind him, waiting until Obi-Wan pushes away from the dining table to officially begin his day. ‘Officially’, like he didn't spend the entire meal pouring over some contracts and requests from dukes and the townspeople until half the dishes got cold. He's a damn workaholic.
And God , it's so hard to stand there. Outside, he's the picture perfect example of a guard. Silent, impassive, alert. Obi-Wan would never be in danger if he could help it.
Inside, though… Inside he's a mess.
Look, he has eyes. Unfortunately. And Obi-Wan is what would be legally deemed ‘hot as fuck’. Anakin grew up idolising him, that kind and gentle prince who took up the mantle of a king a bit too young, but still did everything in his power to let his kingdom flourish. And that notion didn't change when he finally became a knight, and got to meet him in person for the first time. He's sure he made a complete fool of himself, all stammering and red-faced, but Obi-Wan just smiled and said that he would always feel safe under Anakin's protection.
So yeah, Anakin would die for him. Do anything for him. But he doesn't know about living long enough to withstand seeing Obi-Wan every morning like this. Still sleep rumpled and slightly slouching, thick glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he rubs at the beard adorning his chin. And, somehow because the entire world is against him, the morning light shines through the window perfectly and makes his soft auburn hair blaze. It's like everything is trying to say to him, “look, isn't he beautiful? Don't you want him? Wouldn't you give anything for him?”
And yes, Anakin would. But the world needs to shut the fuck up unless they want to see him choke on his own tongue whenever he comes to near proximity to the man. It's only the small mercies in the world that he's positioned behind Obi-Wan, not in front of him. At least all he sees is a little bit of his hair and his hand whenever it's waved in the air as he talks to himself. If he had to see Obi-Wan's face for the full two hours of breakfast he would be useless for the rest of the day. He would constantly stumble and walk into things when he first got the job, too busy daydreaming about Obi-Wan, and Lord knows Cody and Rex teases him enough about it. And somehow it got worse.
Because Ahsoka reads those trashy romance novels a lot. Recently picked out one about a nobleman and his bodyguard and the first thing she said was, “look, this is you and Obi-Wan!” Because apparently every fucking person knows about his infatuation, even his little sister. He would bet it was Rex if not for the fact that its probably the worst kept secret in the entire castle. He can only hope Obi-Wan doesn't know of it, and if he does, that he just brushes it off as one of those common crushes and never confronts him about it.
That would… really suck. Probably would crush him. Absolutely eviscerate him. He would turn into a human blanket burrito and use up all of his saved PTO and try to drink himself halfway to death for about a month. Fall into a lust-induced coma where he lives the perfect life he always wanted; together in a small house in a pretty town, away from responsibilities and duties and class differences, just the two of them happy and in love and falling asleep next to each other. He would try to get everything Obi-Wan might ever want and make him dinner, screw it up fantastically and moan and pout until Obi-Wan laughs and kisses him back to happiness. He would have the best dream of his life, and wake up to a small bed with no Obi-Wan, just the crushing feeling of inadequacy.
Then, because he wants this job and the privilege of seeing Obi-Wan every morning, extinguish that sorrow and pop right back up.
It's not like it would ever work, he knows. He's just some wet behind the ears kid, even if he did just turn 18. Obi-Wan is the king. Life isn't a romantic fairytale and Obi-Wan can do much better than him. He knows. He's always had to stand impassively while people flirted with him endlessly at galas and balls and meetings where he charmed the socks off of everyone.
Anakin barely speaks to him. Because why would he? He's just some guard. It's beneath the king to talk to someone random guard. He probably doesn't even know his name, and that's fair. There's hundreds of guards in the castle, and even Anakin can't remember all their names.
He's just in love. He'll always be in love. And it's small and weak and painful, but it's Obi-Wan. Anakin can't imagine not being in love with him. It's just that… he wishes…
Stupid. It's delusional and illogical and stupid. Thank god he has the wherewithal to not speak any of this out loud to anyone. Maybe a visit to the healers would do him good. He's going crazy if he's entertaining this thought, he's completely off his rockers, he's–
“Anakin?”
“Yes!” He snaps to attention, replying before he even registers what was said. Obi-Wan just… said his name? Obi-Wan knows who he is? What the fuck is happening?
He focuses his eyes and sees Obi-Wan twisted on the tall seat, peeking back at Anakin so that only half his face is visible against the backrest. How is this man so fucking cute?
“Please come sit, Anakin. I need your help.”
O… kay. Anakin actually doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what the proper response is, because he hasn't been taught what to do when the king beckons him forward with a sweet smile and his name on his tongue to come sit at the breakfast table specifically. So he does what every good soldier does, and obeys.
Obi-Wan nudges the chair closest to him back with his feet, opening it up for Anakin to take it. And Anakin goes, robotically, head swimming in confusion and terror and apprehension. He can feel Obi-Wan’s eyes tracking his every step, even though it can’t be more than ten, until he sits.
“How can I assist you, your majesty?” He asks in his normal voice, not strangled, not squeaky, not croaky. His very normal and very casual and very respectful voice that is befitting to talk to the king with.
“Well for one, you can stop calling me that,” Obi-Wan wrinkles his nose in mock disgust. Anakin has never seen anything cuter. “Obi-Wan will suffice.”
Maybe he needs to get a healer for Obi-Wan . Calling the royal family by their given name is a crime, and a pretty big one at that. Only family members and close high royals are able to do that. Obi-Wan's always been nice and friendly to everyone, but the line still exists, and Anakin would be a fool to not recognise that this is some kind of a test. What kind, he has no idea.
“Your… majesty, I don't think–”
“Obi-Wan.”
Anakin blinks.
“Your–”
“Obi-Wan.”
Anakin just stares at Obi-Wan with wide eyes. Obi-Wan stares back like he thinks Anakin will bend to his wills. Well he thought wrong, because even in his infatuated state he has the training drilled into him by Windu and will never be caught disrespecting Obi-Wan under any circumstances.
“How can I assist you?” There, that should be fine as well. No name but still respectful. Anakin waits for the request, but then realises that Obi-Wan is still staring at him, now with a raised brow, as if to say ‘finish the sentence’.
Anakin has no idea why Obi-Wan is like this. Did he do something wrong? Is this the beginning of some punishment? Did Rex finally rat him out for pulling one too many pranks? If that's the case he's bringing the man down with him too.
He wants to keep plotting his revenge against Rex, but Obi-Wan is still looking expectantly at him. So he mentally wishes farewell to his mother and Ahsoka.
“How can I assist you… Obi-Wan.”
The man brightens up with a cheerful smile, and Anakin thinks execution would be worth it.
“You see Anakin, my birthday is coming up.” Yes, Anakin knows. Everyone does. Obi-Wan’s birthday is the biggest celebration in the kingdom, a whole week long affair. The entire county basically stops to come together and shower their king with blessings. Countless members from allied companies also visit and bless him as well. Anakin heard that this year, Obi-Wan might be choosing a partner from the crowd. He wonders if he would even have the guts to look at the person Obi-Wan spends the rest of his life with.
Probably not.
“And Dex is saying that since it’s my 35th, he needs to change things up , which I don’t quite understand. But to him it means trying out new recipes that I haven’t had before. He’s been plying me with these new recipes for the past week or so and making me choose which ones are the best, but I think they’re all good. It’s a predicament, really.” Obi-Wan sighs, swirling his spoon in one of the dishes with a despondent look on his face.
Dex is the head chef for the castle, employed when Obi-Wan was basically a newborn. He grew up eating Dex’s food, and the fact that the chef has a soft spot as big as the sun for the king is no secret. It makes sense that he wants to do something special for Obi-Wan’s birthday, as arbitrary as the number is. As far as Anakin knows, the 35th birthday isn’t a special achievement. It’s great that Obi-Wan lived another year healthy, but it’s not like his 18th or 30th or 40th. Might be something from Dex’s culture that’s not Coruscanti, but he’s not sure.
Just as he’s not sure what the actual problem is.
“I’m sorry, your majesty–”
“Obi-Wan,” the man huffs, pouting a little bit like he’s not a decade and a half older than Anakin. Anakin desperately wants to bite and chew on the man like a rabid dog.
“I’m… sorry, Obi-Wan, but I don’t know how I can help you with your… problem. Should I talk to Dex–”
He’s cut off by Obi-Wan shoving a spoon full of the soup in front of his mouth, like his mother used to do when he was a baby. Anakin looks back incredulously, and sees nothing but confident determination in Obi-Wan’s eyes.
“Uh–”
“Try some and tell me which is best.” Obi-Wan replies, like this is the most obvious and logical answer one can give. Like it’s normal that the king invites his guard to the dining table, sits him down right next to him and handfeeds him soup from a spoon that he was using not a moment ago . Anakin honestly feels like he’s glitching and timing out, eyes darting to everywhere that’s not Obi-Wan to try and find a way out of this ridiculous situation. The spoon inches forward as Obi-Wan leans in with the fucking spoon and when the tip of it grazes his lips, Anakin feels his mental state collapse entirely and loosens his jaw.
It should be delicious, because it’s made by Dex, but Anakin genuinely doesn’t taste anything at all. His brain is kind of preoccupied with the red alarm bells flashing everywhere because that’s Obi-Wan’s spoon . Did he just have an indirect kiss with Obi-Wan, the love of his life, the one person who he can’t have, the guy who’s been plaguing his days and nights for the past decade? He feels like a teenage girl, freaking out about his crush and the ‘does he love me’ delusion over a shared can of soft drink. His mind shuts down and reboots about fifteen times in the span of half a second, so yeah, he doesn’t really taste the soup at all.
“How is it?” Obi-Wan asks, voice sweet and curious like he didn’t just cause Anakin to die.
“It’s uh–” Anakin clears his throat, because that came out much too deep and scratchy to be normal. Something changes in Obi-Wan’s demeanour, turning sharp and assessing, and Anakin fumbles to continue before something else fucks up even more. “It’s good. Very– very tasty.” He’s lying through his teeth . To Obi-Wan . The king .
“Hm. Okay. How about this?” Obi-Wan takes a fork and carefully stabs through some vegetables and once again, brings that up to Anakin's mouth. At this point – and he knows he gave in too quickly but he’s honestly too tired and emotionally drained to keep this up – Anakin just opens his mouth and lets Obi-Wan feed him like a loving partner would do–
No Anakin, bad Anakin. He mentally scolds himself, and once again forgets to taste anything at all. When Obi-Wan asks again, he gives the same response. A frown marrs his perfect face, and Anakin immediately feels terrible. He doesn’t mean to give out shitty repetitive answers, but he genuinely can’t say anything else! Anakin tries to focus on actually tasting the food for all the later dishes, but it’s like his brain does a hard reset whenever he recognises the fact that Obi-Wan is currently feeding him with his own hands and he even once wiped the corner of Anakin's mouth when a bit of a new soup spilled a bit. Anakin's pretty sure he would have physically collapsed into a puddle if not for his intense grip on the armrests. That’s probably the only thing keeping him rigid and upright.
It’s only after an eternity that Obi-Wan puts down the spoon and stops assaulting Anakin with the overwhelming amount of unintended affection, and Anakin just hopes that he’ll be able to walk properly after this. Every muscle in his body is so tense and overstrained and he feels like he’s going to burst blood vessels everywhere. As wonderful and crazy and exhilarating as that was, Anakin never wants to do it again, for the sake of his sanity.
“Well, that’s good feedback for Dex, but we still have plenty of dishes to get through. You know how he is, ever the overachiever. I’ll see you for dinner tonight, Anakin, and I expect better descriptors than ‘tasty’ten times in a row.” Obi-Wan throws him a cheeky smirk as he gathers all his papers and motions to get up, but Anakin sits there with a slack jaw.
“Wait, I’m not– Your dinner guard is Cody–”
“Oh well, we can just change that easily. Cody is so overworked already, that man doesn’t know when to take a break, honestly.” Anakin can’t say ‘pot meet kettle’ to the king, so he wisely stays quiet, but the panic he feels at the idea of this… this happening again in about nine hours’ time must have shown a bit too truthfully at his face, because Obi-Wan pauses in his actions and just pouts back at Anakin with a slight tilt to his head. Damn him for being so cute.
“Anakin,” he murmurs with syrup sweetness, “don’t you want to help me?”
And Anakin feels his head nod, imprisoning him to his fate, before he can stop himself.