wip wednesday

Kenobi looks a mess when Cody steps inside. He slides the door shut after him, wanting to give them that tiny bit of privacy even when he probably shouldn’t. But Kenobi will probably want updates on what happened while he was unconscious – the closed door to Kenobi’s private medbay is only as scandalous as the two of them being alone in a meeting room together. 

“Cody,” Kenobi says, and Cody tries not to focus on the way Kenobi’s mouth goes lax for a moment as tension leaves him and fondness shades his expression. “You’re well?” 

“I didn’t get myself blown up,” Cody tells him, trying to sound stern. His voice dips into concern at the end, which makes Kenobi frown. Cody draws up a chair to sit beside him, busying himself with his datapad to give him a five second excuse to not look at Kenobi’s face and to try and wrangle the overwhelming relief at seeing him alive that is roaring away in his chest. “I’m well.” 

That’s a lie – or it was, before Cody could lay his own eyes on Kenobi and know he’s still alive after the last stunt that he pulled. Cody reigns in the urge to reprimand him for it, because it had gotten an entire platoon out of danger, and that’s where Kenobi’s priorities are – where they’ll always be, if he can choose. Cody only wishes that he put his own health and safety anywhere as near the top of the list.