#obi wan kenobi x cody | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

growup-thatbeautiful · 2 years

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In a collaboration with @mrs-perfectly-fine , this is my new fic in the language of the garden, this is happiness, based on this drawing! I’m so excited to share this fic that I’ve spent so much time researching, planning, and bringing to life!

Summary: Obi-wan lives on a quiet street with Anakin and Ahsoka, across from an empty shop. That is, until the Fett family moves in with their flower-shop and an undetermined amount of family members. Cody Fett is a new, welcoming presence that Obi-wan can’t seem to stay away from.

Word Count: 8.3k

A/n: let me know what you think!! comments are very appreciated :))

in the language of the garden, this is happiness

The street Obi-wan lives on is relatively peaceful most days of the week. When there’s no rerouted traffic or no new special milkshake at the ice–cream shop down the street, it’s a great place for him to be with Anakin and Ahsoka. Not that that was ever in his long-term plans when he was 21 and applied for a position at the local bookstore.

But, as fate would have it, he’s found quite a home here. He gets a good deal on expensive tea at the coffee shop around the corner if he gives them a first look at the latest cookbooks. The same shop lets Ahsoka and Anakin sit in their loft way past the appropriate time for buying one single black coffee that Anakin pretends to drink and gives to Ahsoka. In exchange, Obi-wan tries to help translate whenever he can. There’s a convenience store that looks the other way at Anakin’s skateboarding in front of their store and promises to tell Obi-wan if his kids ever do anything that he needs to know about. A candle store that lets Ahsoka smell all of the ones she wants in the back and a sweet old woman that writes Anakin letters.

There’s also a flower shop moving in right across the street from Obi-wan’s store. He can smell the flowers when he walks down the street for tea, and he gets used to it quickly. It pleasantly blends with the rest of the ambiance of the community that Obi-wan has gotten to know.

This is also due, in part, to the presence of the decidedly large family moving into the apartment above the shop. He’s not sure, but so far he’s counted at least twelve of them, and he has genuinely no idea how each of them is related. Someone else said that their name is the Fetts, and their moving force is made up of a seemingly endless supply of fellow Fett brothers.

So, because he’s a great neighbor, a week after they move in he makes Ahsoka and Anakin come with him to deliver an assortment of baked goods and pleasantries. It definitely has nothing to do with the slight infatuation he has with finding new recipes to try. Nope. He’s just a really good person. He does not use baking as a coping mechanism every time he feels any emotions at all. That’s not him. Not Obi-wan.

They make their way across the street, the pleasant sun shining brightly on the storefronts. Obi-wan happily takes in the smell of roses coming from the store, memory flooding with association from the indistinguishable scent. The stairs to the apartment floor of the building are at the front, narrow metal creaking under constant movement. Ahsoka skips ahead of them, calling Obi-wan old and Anakin lame for not racing her. She stops in front of the dark green door, the name plaque outside labeled The Fetts in sprawling handwriting on a sheet of notebook paper.

“Anakin, can you knock on the door, please? My hands are a tad full at the moment.”

“No,” Anakin says as he reaches around Obi-wan, rapping lightly three times. Obi-wan rolls his eyes and shifts the basket in his hand.

His knocks are answered a moment later by a boy around Anakin’s age with bleach blonde hair cropped close to his skull and wide, brown eyes. “Yeah?”

“Hello! I’m Obi-wan Kenobi, and this is Anakin and Ahsoka. We live across the street in the apartment above my bookstore, and I wanted to offer these,” he holds out the basket, “to help you settle in. I know new places can be a lot.”

The boy looks utterly unconvinced by Obi-wan’s speech, looking around him to see a beaming Ahsoka and a less than enthused Anakin. Obi-wan understands. Their little family can be a lot to take in at first glance. He just hopes Anakin and Ahsoka aren’t disappointed. He tried to hype up having new kids on their street as much as he can with his limited capability to connect to the younger generation. Based on the looks Anakin had been giving him when he said lit, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Well, we can drop them off here and be on our way. No need to distract you from unpacking. Feel free to stop by if you need anything. Our doors are always open.” He puts the basket down on the floor in front of him and turns to corral his group down the stairs and back to their side of the street when a voice stops him.

“Wait!” Obi-wan looks up and finds a different figure approaching the door. “Sorry, I was on the phone. If I’d known that it was you I would have answered it myself.” The man stops and offers a handshake. “I’m Cody. Cody Fett.”

“Obi-wan,” he replies, accepting the handshake. Cody’s hands are broad and warm, with callouses on the fingers that Obi-wan wants to learn about. He wouldn't mind learning about the rest of Cody either. His eyes are warm and inviting, crinkling at the edges with laugh lines. His stature is a little shorter than Obi-wan's, but he’s strong. That Obi-wan knows from his observations at his kitchen sink when he would see one of them, who he’s now able to recognize as Cody, going up and down the stairs, not stopping until all of the boxes had been moved to the apartment, long after the others.

“Why don’t you come in?” Obi-wan accepts the offer and steps through the doorway, his shoulder brushing against Cody’s. “I’m sorry about your greeting. The one who answered the door was Rex. He’s seventeen,” offers Cody as an explanation.

“Anakin is the same age. He’s the rather sour-looking one behind me.” Anakin looks up from his phone and waves, completely oblivious to the insult.

“Maybe they’ll get along.” Obi-wan doubts it. Anakin only seems to want to be around Ahsoka and, in rare cases, Obi-wan. It would be a nice change of pace for him to have a friend his age besides Padamė.

“Maybe. It would be nice to have some fellow youth around.” Obi-wan cringes at his word choice. Could he have sounded any older?

Cody is, apparently, willing to forgive Obi-wan’s wording. “We weren’t expecting any visitors for a while,” Cody apologizes, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

“I’m sure,” agrees Obi-wan, noting the stacks of boxes. “I don’t have much space to judge here. I used a cardboard box as a living room table for years.”

“Until I broke it,” interjects Anakin proudly. Obi-wan offers him a rueful smile.

“Yes, you did do a proper job making sure we had to take a trip to Ikea. Though that might have been the plan all along.” Ahsoka and Anakin attempt to sneakily high-five each other unsuccessfully.

“I saw that.” They grin and do it again. Obi-wan nods in acceptance of his lack of control over them and they continue down the hallway.

Obi-wan learns quickly that Cody is a man of little words, completely unlike a lot of his family. Rex seems quite like him but is a bit more inclined to try and talk to Anakin and Ahsoka, the latter who looks overjoyed at the attention of someone Anakin’s age. Cody mainly stays beside Obi-wan, giving short descriptions of the rooms and introducing the other members of the family.

So far, he’s met at least 9 other Fett brothers, not including Rex and Cody. There are the twins, Waxer and Boil, who seem to be around twenty and live closer to the city, where Waxer has a daughter named Numa whom Obi-wan has already promised free range of the kid's section to. Crys is nineteen and going to a local college for a medical degree, and living with Cody as well to be able to help out. Echo and Fives, who are going to be living with Cody too, are twelve and thirteen respectively. He doesn’t get the ages of Wooley or Longshot, but Cody tells him that they’re also going to be around most of the time. Right as he’s trying to politely leave, he meets the last Fett in the house he didn’t meet before, a ten-year-old kid named Boba.

If he’s right, there are going to be eight people in the apartment. Luckily, it proves to be a lot bigger than Obi-wan’s. He’s pretty sure it’s actually a few apartments on the floor renovated together into a larger space that can semi-comfortably fit this branch of the Fett family.

After around an hour of meeting people and promising more baked goods in the future, Obi-wan feels like it’s probably time for them to leave, not that he wants to. The Fetts have such a way of accepting everyone in their presence immediately. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this at home around anyone that isn’t Anakin or Ahsoka, and he has to admit that it’s quite comforting.

Cody and Obi-wan are slowly making their way back to the entrance of the apartment, Cody somehow being able to pick up on the fact that Obi-wan feels a bit like he’s imposing at this point.

“It was nice to have you over. The cookies were a hit, you’ll have to send me the recipe.”

“I would love to, although I’m afraid I didn’t make enough food for everyone,” admits Obi-wan, gesturing generally to the rest of the apartment. Cody laughs softly, and Obi-wan wants to make him laugh again immediately to see that smile paired with those eyes.

“It’s okay, we’re good at sharing,” says Cody leading Obi-wan to the door. It’s not necessary at all, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“I’m sure.” They arrive back at the front with the peeling paint of the green door. “I guess this is goodbye for now, then.”

“I guess it is. It was really nice to meet you,” says Cody, sticking a hand out to shake.

“You as well,” returns Obi-wan warmly, accepting the handshake. “Hopefully we can make this a common occurrence. Having friendly neighbors can make life much easier.”

“I would like that.” They stand across from each other, Obi-wan’s hands clasped tightly behind his back. He’s not very good at goodbyes, especially when he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

“You have a lovely home and an even lovelier family,” offers Obi-wan. “Speaking of which, I seem to have lost both of my children,” Obi-wan says, looking down the hall.

“I think I saw them with Rex earlier.” Sure enough, Rex and Anakin cross the back end of the hall, pushing at each other, with Ahsoka trailing behind them and narrating in her best Australian accent.

“I’m going to have to apologize for the scenarios Anakin will most assuredly get Rex into in the future. I’m afraid it’s quite unavoidable when you put Anakin and Ahsoka together.”

“I would expect nothing less from Rex,” assures Cody fondly. “He pretty much gets roped into everything by his siblings already.” Anakin and Ahsoka see them standing at the door and head over, their noise level filling the hallway.

“Are we leaving?” asks Ahsoka. Anakin stands next to her, his elbow resting on her head.

“Yes, dear. Say your goodbyes to Rex and we’ll get out of their hair.” Obi-wan is met with sighs and sad glances towards Rex.

After a thoroughly awkward goodbye with strange handshakes and exclamations of future time together, Obi-wan is finally able to corral his company out the door, where the light is quickly fading. An orange glow is painted across the sky.

“I was thinking of picking up pizza or making that pasta with the red sauce.” Obi-wan unlocks the door to the shop and they head to the back, where the stairs to the apartment are.

“You make at least four kinds of pasta with red sauce. Specifics, please.” Ahsoka pokes Obi-wan in the arm and pushes past him.

“The one with noodles.”

“Very funny. You should be a comedian. It might be a little late in life for a career change, though.”

“Are you going to keep making fun of me or do you want to eat dinner?”

“That’s a hard choice,” considers Anakin, a hand stroking his chin animatedly. “I think I’ll take the food. You remembered to-”

“Take out the carrots for Ahsoka’s plate? Yes, I did.” Anakin nods in approval and sits on the counter, his usual spot when he’s in the mood to be talkative. They discuss random topics for a while, from the latest drama at Anakin’s school to the more interesting customers that Obi-wan’s had this week.

“Can I take the car next weekend?”

“Anakin, it’s your car. You don’t need to ask me.”

“I’m being responsible,” defends Anakin. “You’re impossible.”

“Fine, I’ll bite. Where do you want to go?”

“I wanted to take Padamè to the beach during the weekend. Usually, she would drive, but I was thinking about inviting Ahsoka and Rex.”

“That’s… actually a good idea,” remarks Obi-wan. He gets out various pots and pans and starts sautéing the vegetables, the peas off the side.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” scoffs Anakin. “I have good ideas all the time.”

“You definitely have a lot of ideas, that’s for certain. Can you get the tomato purée from the pantry? It should be on the top shelf.” Anakin hops off the counter energetically and slides to the pantry, his socks sliding against the tiles. It’s a habit Obi-wan can’t seem to break and has even picked up himself. Anakin places the can on the counter with a loud thunk and retakes his spot.

“So is that a yes?”

“If you take Ahsoka and Rex with you. I’m not letting my seventeen-year-old go to the beach by himself with his girlfriend, no matter how much I trust her.”

“You don’t trust me?” Anakin looks mock offended, his hand over his heart.

“Depends on the day.”

“Fair. So next weekend you don’t trust me?”

“Next weekend I trust you to take care of your sister.” Anakin shrugs in acceptance and takes a spoon out of the drawer next to him, dipping it in the sauce.

“It could use some more pepper.” Obi-wan nods and adds more. The rest of the evening passes with relative ease, Anakin tasting the various parts of the meal and telling Obi-wan what to add. Eventually, Ahsoka comes in too, and directs further, bringing meaning to the phrase too many cooks in the kitchen.

Once everything is ready, Ahsoka and Anakin set the table while Obi-wan makes bowls for each of them. It’s a practiced dance they’ve established on nights when they eat together, which is admittedly few and far between. Their schedule doesn’t always allow much room for family dinners. This is probably a good thing because they usually end up in laughing fits and with a stack of dishes in the sink for them to do tomorrow.

Tonight is no different. They eat and talk about whatever comes up, relieving the same stories that always make them laugh and adding to the list of “reasons why Anakin probably shouldn’t be allowed out of the house.” Anakin and Ahsoka team up against Obi-wan and talk in a language of pop culture he doesn’t even pretend to understand, and Ahsoka teases Anakin for, in Ahsoka’s words, being a simp for his girlfriend. Obi-wan understands that even less than the rest of it, but it’s nice to see how close Anakin and Ahsoka are.

Predictably, none of the dishes get done and the kitchen is left a mess for them to deal with later. Ahsoka makes them watch some space movie that is impossible to follow and Anakin falls asleep on the floor, curled into a blanket. They leave him there to wake up in the middle of the night or the morning and head to bed.

Obi-wan is in his room reading in the worn-down armchair by the window with a cup of tea when Ahsoka comes in, socked feet shuffling against the floor, holding a pillow against her chest.

“Obi-wan?”

“Yes, dear?” Obi-wan places his reading glasses and book on the table and gives her his full attention.

“Do you think Rex and Cody will stay here? Like, for a while?” It breaks Obi-wan’s heart to hear the shake in her voice. She’s had to go through so many changes in the short period of her life, so he knows where this is coming from.

“I do. They seem like the kind of people to stick around for good.” Ahsoka nods, a look of relief passing over her features. He gives her his best smile. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.” She turns to go back into her room, saying a quiet goodnight.

Obi-wan leans his head back into the chair and looks at the popcorn ceiling. A king sigh escapes him and he reaches for his book and readers.

Nothing like avoiding his problems with a good book.

~~~

The week passes slowly and without any problems. Anakin gets an A on an English test, which Obi-wan learns with pride. If there’s one thing he’s doing well, it’s teaching Anakin how to be a good reader. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Obi-wan visits Cody throughout the week, offering to pick up lunch for whoever’s at the apartment at the time and helping unpack boxes. He has genuinely no clue where anything goes, especially when it comes to the flowers downstairs, but Cody is patient and explains it while somehow completing all his tasks too.

Anakin convinced Padamè, Rex, and Ahsoka to go to the beach with him easily. What’s harder is convincing Echo and Fives not to go. In the end, Anakin agrees to take all of them in his tiny car, towels, and sunscreen packed under people's feet.

The first time they try to leave, after five minutes they have to turn back around because all of them collectively forgot that water is a human necessity, something Obi-wan is pretty sure he reminded Ahsoka and Anakin about many times.

So now they’re running around, finding as many water bottles as they can and filling them from the fridge. They’re then unceremoniously shoved into a tote bag produced from who knows where and placed in Rex’s lap in the front seat.

Ahsoka is standing by the door waiting for Anakin, who is trying to put his converse on with one hand. He’s jumping up and down, his foot twisting without success.

“Just let me do it,” sighs Obi-wan, holding his shoulder still and getting down onto his knees, which isn’t as easy as it used to be. He ties the shoe quickly and Anakin almost kicks him in the face while he’s getting up.

“Is that everything?” Anakin asks excitedly, hand already on the doorknob.

“It should be.” Ahsoka looks at Obi-wan and jumps up, giving him a quick hug.

“Thank you so much for letting us do this.”

“Of course. You really should be thanking Anakin, though. He was the mastermind.” Anakin grins and Ahsoka gives him a hug too. Anakin looks panicked for a second and pats her on the head. Obi-wan continues, “Anakin, please be careful.” Anakin rolls his eyes and grabs his skateboard from where it’s leaning against the wall. Another necessary item he forgot, apparently.

“No thanks,” replies Anakin, flashing the peace sign. Ahsoka grins and follows behind, copying Anakin.

“At least wear a seatbelt,” calls Obi-wan, his kids already down the stairs.

“Of course. And I’ll only speed a little bit.” Obi-wan hears the bell above the door jingle and stop.

“I don’t know if he was serious or not,” mutters Obi-wan to no one in particular. He doesn’t have much to do today since the usual driving forces behind his schedule are gone. The store is open, but one of their longtime employees and Ahsoka’s recommendation, Bariss, has insisted many times that she can take care of things when Obi-wan isn’t there. He thinks she just appreciates the quiet, and he can’t blame her. He enjoys the ambiance of the empty store too.

The only thing he can think of to do is bother Cody, but he doesn’t really want to be too much of an annoyance after only a week of knowing him. Maybe if he actually had a reason to go over there.

He thinks more about it as he goes around the apartment, folding random blankets and finding random cups that need to be washed to keep his hands busy. There are no upcoming birthdays or anything that warrant flowers. The end of the year is coming up soon, but he doesn’t think Anakin or Ahsoka really want flowers sitting in their rooms while they study for exams, definitely not with Anakin’s allergies.

There are always teacher gifts, but most of the teachers Ahsoka has, Obi-wan already know. They’ve told him many times that if he gets them any gift for any circumstances he’ll be disowned as a friend. Normally it’s a nice sentiment, but now it’s frustrating. It’s the same deal with some of Anakin’s teachers. The ones he likes are Obi-wan’s friends and the others he has no reason to give gifts to because they hate Anakin’s “loud classroom presence” and, by extension, hate Obi-wan.

That leaves the one school figure Anakin actually enjoys that Obi-wan doesn’t know. Sheev Palpatine, who, coincidentally enough, doesn’t feel too warmly towards Obi-wan. The feelings are mutual, but if it allows him to have something to do besides sit with his own thoughts, it could very well be worth it. Besides, isn’t showing interest in Anakin’s role models something he should do? Even if this specific role model is less than a role model and more of a slimy, weirdly-political school counselor.

Obi-wan grabs his keys and heads out the door before he can think himself out of it. Outside the weather is blessedly clear, no clouds in sight. The sun feels comforting and warm, but not too hot. Maybe he can go for a walk later. Maybe a certain someone will join him.

The door of Cody’s shop opens with a pleasing ding and Obi-wan is met with a smiling Cody, working behind the counter.

“Good morning, Cody.”

“Hi, Obi-wan. How can I help you?”

“Is there a way to send an insincere bouquet of flowers? Maybe to someone who you secretly despise?” Obi-wan leans across the counter, clasping his hands together.

To his credit, Cody gets straight to work with only a simple eye raise at the request. “I’ll tell you what I’m adding so it has extra meaning when you give them their fuck you bouquet.”

“You know me so well, dear.” Obi-wan pretends not to notice the smile Cody hides behind his hand.

“I doubt you can get away with sending them black roses,” muses Cody.

“No, I think my true sentiments might be found out in that case,” agrees Obi-wan with a laugh. “Subtlety is an underused form of passive aggression.”

“That it is.” Cody puts on a black pair of gloves and gets to work. “I’m going to keep it fairly simple, so we can avoid sending any mixed messages. First, I’ll start with some Petunias. They mean anger and dissatisfaction because they share similarities with the tobacco plant but don’t make any good smoke.” The magenta flowers are gathered together in a small round moon, one of Cody’s hands working on picking through the next group of flowers. “Next a good choice is a small concentration of the common Begonia, which represents negligence.” This one is a brightly colored red, with a yellow center. Cody expertly arranges them among the Petunias, blending the size and colors perfectly. “And, finally, last but not least we’ll add some Butterfly Weed. It simply means leave me. Maybe the sentiments will carry through?”

“I should be so lucky,” sighs Obi-wan. Cody looks up from arranging his flowers, noticing the dejection in Obi-wan’s voice.

“So, who’s the guy? Anything I should be worried about?” Obi-wan raises his eyebrows at Cody, who blushes and looks back down at his work.

Obi-wan caves in and explains. “It’s not anything like that. I would prefer something that easy, actually,” he laughs. “No, this wonderful bouquet of flowers is for Anakin’s counselor, Sheev Palpatine. It’s the end of the year and Anakin wanted to get him something. I was tasked with getting the flowers.”

“So what’s so bad about this Palpatine guy? No offense, but school counselor doesn’t really trigger every red flag in my head.”

“I don’t know,” answers Obi-wan mournfully. “Everyone seems to love him, but I just can’t seem to shake this feeling that there’s something off about him. And call it jealousy, but I don’t like how much Anakin depends on him and confides in him.”

“You just want what’s best for Anakin. There’s nothing jealous about that,” defends Cody, handing the flowers to Obi-wan, who accepts them with another sigh.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not as if I judge every person who doubts my capabilities as a parent.” Cody stops the motion of taking off his gloves and looks at Obi-wan, eyes wide.

“He what?”

“His thoughts aren’t entirely unfounded, to be honest. It’s not as if I had much experience with children when I first took in Anakin. He was just so young and alone, and I didn’t have the heart to say no to anything he asked for. You know, the first morning I had him I spent the whole night anxious that I wouldn’t have any food he would eat. He took one look at the pantry, took a strawberry granola bar that might have been twenty years old, and sat at the counter. I was so nervous about breakfast that I didn’t have any of his school things ready and we missed his first class. Luckily, I’m friends with the teacher, Mace, so it ended up being okay. But it feels like everything I’ve done has been like that, with me not knowing what to do and everyone else telling me, albeit politely most of the time, what I’m doing wrong. Especially Anakin.

“And then, as soon as I was figuring things out again, Anakin insisted that we help out with Ahsoka when he met her at school and found out about her situation like I can just learn overnight how to budget and supply for another kid. Don’t get me wrong, I adore having Ahsoka around too. She gives us a balance we didn’t know we needed, and she’s so utterly different than both me and Anakin. That doesn’t mean it’s easy with her, though. I have Anakin’s chaos influencing her and my inability to control both of them doesn’t help. I worry she could be doing better somewhere else without me. Not to mention the number of times I’ve heard people offer to help with Anakin. Most people can tell I’m way over my head.” Obi-wan can tell he’s getting lost in his thoughts. It really wasn’t his intention to break down in front of Cody, but, as usual, the universe seems to have other plans for him.

“It doesn’t seem that way to me,” Cody says softly once he’s sure that Obi-wan is done. “Call me biased, but you’re a great guardian to those kids. You probably don’t notice the way they look up to you, but anyone else can see it clearly. I mean, the way Ahsoka talks about you to her friends when she comes over here or the way Anakin is always proud to tell people who he lives with. Are you perfect? No, but there’s no one that is. I’d say you’re doing pretty good for the situation you’ve been given. “ Obi-wan looks up at Cody, who’s methodically rearranging the flowers, not looking at Obi-wan. The black of his curls that shine in the fading light of the windows is completely captivating, stealing Obi-wan’s attention. His hands work deftly through the flowers, turning them to compliment each other perfectly.

Obi-wan doesn’t really want to talk about it anymore. He never wants to talk about it in general, but somehow Cody makes it easier. “I have to say, I’m surprised that you carry flowers with such negative meanings. Surely most people don’t want those dispassionate vibes when giving their grandmother.” It’s not the smoothest change of subject, but he genuinely doesn’t care. It’s not like he was trying to be subtle about the pain of the subject.

“You give flowers to your grandmother?”

“Well, no. I don’t know my grandparents.”

“Neither do I.” They sit with the revelations for a moment, and Obi-wan doesn’t really know how to proceed. He’s always had a gift of making situations uncomfortable. Luckily, Cody continues. “And I keep the flowers around for people like you. Most of the time people come by and ask for colors or just for occasions, but every once and a while people want them to mean something more than just pretty colors and sweet smells.”

“How many of them do you think actually explain the meaning behind the flowers they give?” Obi-wan is curious, he really is, but he also wants to stay here with Cody for as long as possible. It’s much preferred to the alternative.

“Absolutely none of them,” laughs Cody. “I don’t need to do a personal study to be able to tell that absolutely all of them are unable to express their emotions with actual words.”

“I resent that accusation. I am incredible at sharing my emotions,” defends Obi-wan, placing his hands down on the counter in front of him.

“I meant to real people, not to the plants in your bookshop.” Cody leans forward towards him, his forearms braced on the counter, mirroring Obi-wan. “Those don’t count.”

“Such harsh words. I suppose you’re a real talent in the emotional department?”

Cody laughs loudly, a movement by every part of him. His head leans back and his eyes close, happiness taking over his whole form. It almost serves as an answer to Obi-wan’s teasing question.

“Not at all. The Fetts aren’t known for valuing talking about emotions. I’m trying to change that with the younger ones, though. Rex is probably the best at it. God knows he didn’t get that from me. Here are your flowers.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Unfortunately, the bouquet is absolutely stunning, which isn’t what Obi-wan necessarily wanted for Palpatine. “It’s beautiful.”

“I do what I can.” Cody’s smile is small but blinding.

“Do you want to get lunch? I don’t know if you can take off or not, but I don’t really have much to do today, and I rather enjoy your company.”

“I go on lunch in twenty minutes,” supplies Cody.

“Great! I’ll take these over to my apartment and be back in twenty minutes.”

They end up going on a walk to the pizza place down the street, the pleasant sun Obi-wan noticed earlier made even better by the company. Obi-wan gets plain cheese, which Cody claims is disgusting, and Cody gets a hamburger pizza. It’s a nicer meal than Obi-wan’s had in a long time, and not because of the food. It’s the same greasy pizza as always, but Cody is a centering presence. He’s easy to be around in a way Obi-wan hasn’t known in what feels like forever.

They take up most of the early afternoon, talking away. There are times when Obi-wan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest because of the sheer presence that is Cody Fett. He’s quick to counter Obi-wan’s sharp humor and has a reply to everything Obi-wan says.

By the time they wrap up, they’ve made it through the pizza place, coffee shop, and back to Cody’s shop.

“I should let you get back to the rest of your day. I’m afraid I’ve eaten away a good portion of your day.”

“There’s nothing I would have rather done,” replies Cody earnestly. “You’re a good person to have around, even if your pizza choice is atrociously boring.”

“I think a lot of me is atrociously boring.“ Cody hits him across the head lightly for self-deprecation. “I mean, I’m such an interesting person whose ideal Friday night is not reading a book.”

“Better.” Any further conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Anakin and his crew, music blaring, and teenagers screaming lyrics at the top of their lungs.

“Oh goodness,” says Obi-wan. Rex gets out of the passenger seat first, holding his hands over his ears. Then comes Ahsoka out of the middle, followed by a fighting Echo and Fives. There’s a lot of pointing at each other and name-calling, typical of new teens.

“I should go deal with that.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks,” laughs Cody. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Please do. I’d love to stay updated.” Obi-wan greets Ahsoka and Anakin, who are both bubbling with stories to tell and a sugar high from who knows how many popsicles.

He somehow herds them up the stairs and into the apartment, where Ahsoka immediately collapses onto her bed and Anakin heads straight to the shower. Obi-wan orders take-out for them and gets out plastic plates.

Anakin comes out of his room with his hair in a wet tangle and he jumps onto the couch, effectively waking Ahsoka up. Obi-wan ignores the muttered asshole that comes from Ahsoka. It’s warranted in the situation.

Obi-wan brings the food into the living room and places it on the low table in front of the couch. He takes his usual spot on the perpendicular armchair and watches with amusement as Anakin and Ahsoka pile up their plates, the shared blanket in between them surely getting stained.

“Did you spend the whole day with your boyfriend?” asks Ahsoka innocently. Obi-wan thinks Anakin kicks her under the blanket.

“Excuse me?”

Ahsoka stays strong. “Your new boyfriend. Cody Fett. Should we pack our stuff up to move into their apartment or…?”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-wan starts. He quickly realizes he doesn’t have much else to say beyond that.

“That wasn’t a no,” points out Anakin, waving his fork at Obi-wan.

“Ooh, someone’s got a boyfriend,” sings Ahsoka.

“I see we’re acting like elementary school children now. Good. And, to answer your question, yes I did spend the day with Cody.”

“Holy shit, you were right, snips,” says Anakin with awe.

“Language, Anakin. And she was not right. Cody isn’t my boyfriend.” Anakin and Ahsoka must see something in his face because they drop it and watch the Great British Baking Show.

Later, Obi-wan gets a text that says “they were fighting over Taylor swift. I blame no one but her excellent songwriting.”

~~~~

“What are we having for dinner, old man?”

“I’m not that much older than you, you know.” Anakin scoffs and jumps up on the counter, effectively taking up most of the prep space for Obi-wan’s cooking. “And we’re having pasta. The spicy orange kind that Ahsoka likes.”

“The one with those little tomatoes?” Obi-wan can feel, with his sixth sense, a complaint about to come from Anakin.

“You can pick them out. I’ll leave them whole so you don’t accidentally eat one. God forbid you to put a vegetable in your mouth,” teases Obi-wan, taking out the saucepan and filling another with water to boil.

“It’s about the principle of the thing,” states Anakin, taking some of the cheese Obi-wan is shredding and popping it into his mouth, pieces falling all around him and down his shirt.

“You won’t be hungry if you keep eating that,” Obi-wan says lightly, shoving Anakin’s hand away from the cheese. He’s just about to simmer the cheese with the rest when there’s a knock on the door.

“Anakin, can you get that?” Anakin jumps off the counter and heads towards the front door. Some conversation is exchanged and Anakin leads Cody into the kitchen. Anakin looks at Obi-wan with raised eyebrows and Obi-wan shrugs as discreetly as he can. Anakin apparently loses interest and goes into the living room.

“Is now a bad time?” Cody looks tired. Bags under his eyes reflect the bone-weary look mirrored in twin pools of brown. Somehow, the grey curls at his temples seem more pronounced too, but Obi-wan is less inclined to view that as a sign of his tiredness. And it suits Cody well.

“Do you want some tea?” Anakin scoffs from his spot lounging on the couch and Obi-wan tries not to roll his eyes. Anakin always says that, according to Obi-Wan, tea is a solution to everything. It might be true. It’s no secret that Obi-wan derives a great deal of comfort from a nice cup of tea. Or, it might just be a way to keep his hands busy in uncomfortable situations. Neither can be proved.

“No, thanks. I’ve never really liked tea.” Cody takes a seat at one of the barstools by the island, across from Obi-wan.

“Coffee then?” Cody returns a distracted hum that Obi-wan takes as a further sign of the poor state Cody is in.

“Cody? Do you want some coffee?” This time he receives a nod in response, and he gets to work, turning on the coffee maker and getting two mugs out of the cabinet.

“I’ll have to apologize in advance. I don’t usually drink coffee, so the quality might not be up to any normal coffee-drinking standards.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Anakin, could you go get ready for dinner?” It’s a polite way to ask Anakin to leave the room. For perhaps the first time, Anakin takes the hint and jumps off his spot on the couch, winking at Obi-wan, which he pretends not to see.

“Don’t burn the food,” he calls over his shoulder.

“It happened one time, and if I recall correctly, it was your fault.” Anakin shows him a very specific finger in response and shuts the door to his room.

Cody raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that how things normally go?”

“Pretty much. Sometimes there are words instead of a finger. I would try to discourage it if I didn’t think that would simply make it worse, and I know he doesn’t mean it.” Cody doesn’t look totally convinced, but Obi-wan is used to that look when people observe the way he raises Anakin.

“Sounds healthy.” From anyone else, it would sound judgemental, but from Cody, it’s just a statement. No hidden meanings or sarcastic undertones. Not about something he knows is personal to Obi-wan.

“It can be.” The coffee maker decides now is a good time to start making the horribly loud and obnoxious screeching sound that it makes halfway through a cup of coffee. At this point, the conversation is completely useless. Obi-wan can hardly hear himself think.

The coffee is finished and he hands the mug to Cody, who takes it distractedly. Obi-wan takes this as a sign to start a conversation.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t think you came over just for my terrible coffee and rude teenager. I’m sure you have plenty of that at home.”

Cody gives him a pained laugh. “No, no that’s not why I came. I thought it would be nice to return the favor to you.”

“What favor?”

“Trauma dumping,” Cody says, matter-of-factly. “I can’t help but get the feeling that I’m letting my siblings down.”

“So you want to talk about it?” asks Obi-wan, settling down next to Cody on the bar stool.

“If you’re willing to deal with my shit,” sighs Cody. His head is in his hands, voice muffled.

“Of course I am. I know things like these are hard, and anyway I can support you I will.”

“Remember you agreed to this when you hate me at the end of the night,” warns Cody.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay. It’s just that they’re all so used to my dad being the one in charge of everything. Sure, if you had a small problem you went to an older brother. A bad grade wasn’t something you talked to him about. But the real stuff? That’s when you talked to my dad, not that he was any good at talking to his kids. I don’t know that they’ll ever see me as that person, and I don’t want them to live without someone to talk to. Hell, even if they do see me like that, how can I be any better than him? He’s the one who raised me, so I’m probably just as bad as him.

“I can’t even figure out how to explain to them that their dad gave up. He left, and now they’re supposed to just accept me as their new guardian like he never existed.”

“I mean, Boba practically thinks that he hung the fucking moon, and I don’t want to be the person that tells him how shitty of a dad he is. He hardly shows up when one of his kids graduates from high school. I practically had to beg him to come to Rex’s last game of the season against their biggest rival. I can’t be the one to tell him that, when I’m already the villain who took him away from his dad, who, by the way, decided all of a sudden that raising kids wasn’t for him. It took him long enough to realize that.”

“At some point in his life, Boba is going to figure out who his father is. Who he really is, not some fantasized version of him in his head, and when that happens, he’s going to also realize what you sacrificed to keep that a secret for so long.”

“I can’t live with myself if they hate me,” Cody admits, sorrow in his voice. “My brothers are everything to me. They probably don’t think I need them, but every time they come home late or spend the night somewhere else I can hardly control the panic that controls me. I won’t be able to handle it if they start faking smiles at me.”

“Well, I mean, you have to know that there’s no part of you I dislike or would disallude myself into falsely appreciating. I don’t think anyone would be able to hate you for taking this burden away from your brothers. It’s not something they should deal with at their age, and if they don’t want to realize that then they will when they’re older. You don’t need to worry about losing them, because they don’t want to lose you either. Family goes both ways.”

“I suppose. I knew I couldn’t be the only one on the street self-conscious about my parenting skills,” deflects Cody. It’s a tactic Obi-wan knows well.

“No, in that sense you’re in good company. Truly, the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

Obi-wan is going to do it. He’s going to go over to Cody’s shop and ask him out. He’s endured an endless amount of taunting and teasing from Anakin and Ahsoka, so now he’s going to make it worth it.

The only problem is, that he can’t seem to walk out the door. He’s done everything else. He got dressed in a nice green sweater that Cody’s said makes his eyes look pretty. He brushed his hair and obsessively fixed it until he deemed it sort of acceptable. He put his glasses on then put in his contacts than did both again twice. But the smallest step, opening the door, seems impossible.

Another problem: it’s raining. Anakin took the only umbrella they have, which Obi-wan is realizing way too late is unacceptable. Obi-wan doesn’t really want to walk into his big declaration looking like a wet cat, even if the trope says it’s romantic.

He really doesn’t want to chicken out, though. If he doesn’t do it now, he won’t ever do it. He’s always braver at nighttime.

With a shaking hand, he turns the knob and walks down the stairs. The rings on his fingers glide

against the pictures on the walls as he descends. With another deep breath, he opens the front door of the shop and takes a step under the awning. Just a few more and he’s with Cody. A few more and he can breathe again.

He takes a running step into the rain, the puddle beneath his foot splashing up. He keeps going, crossing the street in seconds before wrenching open the door to Cody’s shop and shutting it firmly behind him.

He looks up to see a stunned Cody, midway through wiping down the front counter. His mouth is hanging slightly ajar, his hands poised in midair.

“Obi-wan? Is everything okay?”

“I, uh, wanted to get flowers for you, but I didn’t know which ones meant what without you.” The declaration is given with all the strength of a middle-aged man who just sprinted across the street in the rain. So, it’s breathy and he’s panting by the end of it, but he would never be able to tell with the way Cody is looking at him. Like he’s so much more than a bookshop owner.

“Could you, perhaps, help me?” Cody nods slowly and crosses behind the counter, his gaze never leaving Obi-wan.

“Of course. What do you want to say?” It’s somehow easier this way for the both of them, Obi-wan thinks. They can hide behind pretenses for a while and express themselves second-handedly through the flowers. It’s a thin illusion of safety.

“Something along the lines of I care about you deeply. Perhaps a tad romantic?” Obi-wan’s heart is beating rapidly against his chest, a pounding that he can hear in his head.

“Hellebore signifies relieving my anxiety. It’s a good one to start with, I think. Just to say that there’s no need to be nervous and your feelings are returned.” Cody’s voice is quiet, a lull that keeps Obi-wan’s attention like no other can. “Lily of the Valley means the return of happiness. As in, we make each other happy. The wax flower means lasting love. You can figure that one out by yourself, and I believe it’s a hope we share. Pearly everlasting, however, is one of my favorites for romantic purposes. They mean I will always remember you. I try to include them whenever I can.” Cody takes the flowers he mentions one by one and puts them in brown wrapping paper, cocooning them in each other. The colors bleed together in the dim lighting, a hue of vibrant everything that Obi-wan wants to memorize.

Cody passes the bouquet to Obi-wan, water droplets glistening in the low-string lights. “These are for you.”

“Actually, they’re for you,” Obi-wan corrects with a smile, tilting the bouquet back to Cody. The outstretched hand between them hovers uncertainty, but Obi-wan stares surely at the man in front of him. At the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the thick leather band he wears around his waist. The flowers are chaotically arranged, with none of Cody’s usual hand-picked care. “What do you say, dear?”

Cody doesn’t answer, but he accepts the flowers from Obi-wan, placing them down gently on the counter. He turns around, and, looking at the flowers behind him, slowly moves towards the opposite corner. There, he grabs a pair of shears and takes out a single flower from the rest. It’s a simple purple flower with a bright yellow center and a ring of petals. He shuffles back to where he’s standing in front of Obi-Wan.

Taking his right hand from where it’s resting at Obi-Wan’s side, Cody brings it closer and threads their fingers together around the rose.

“In the Victorian era, flowers had a lot of significance, as I’m sure you know. It’s a little less known, though, that the, uh, hand that a flower was given with also means something. The left-hand means no. The right”- Cody squeezes their hands a bit-“means yes. Similarly, the New England Aster, the flower we’re holding, means I share your sentiment. It’s not a traditional part of flower arrangements, but I like to keep it around.”

“I, for one, am glad you do. Seems perfect for moments such as this.”

“Yes, well, things like this happen all the time with me. I’m a very sought-after man,” deadpans Cody.

“So I’ve heard. You even have that old bookstore recluse from across the street looking after you. Be careful, I hear he’s a tad stand-offish.”

“I think I can handle it,” breathes Cody. “Something tells me he’s not too bad once you get to know him. But that might prove to be a little hard.”

“Oh? How come?”

“I don’t think he’s very good at expressing emotions. But that’s something I might be willing to forgive.” Cody leans against the corner of the counter, their fingers still laced together tightly around the flower.

“What could possibly possess you to make you forgive such a thing?” Obi-wan follows the direction that Cody drags his hand, jumping onto the counter, which proves to be less of an easy feat than he expects. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, one side of their bodies pressed together.

“Well, he’s got these beautiful blue eyes that try to hide his emotions, but he’s actually very bad at it. He’s taller than me, which usually I wouldn’t stand for, but somehow he makes it okay. He always listens to what other people want before he listens to what he wants, which can be a bit of a problem, but I’m trying to help with that. Not sure how well I’m getting through.”

“I don’t doubt your abilities. You seem very persuasive.”

Cody hums in agreement. “I can be when it comes to something important to me. Which, he is. You are.”

Obi-wan didn’t think his smile could get any bigger.

He was wrong.

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