Title: Yin and Yang
Summary: Obi-Wan and Anakin at a typical evening at home.
Obi-Wan minced about the kitchen, wiping off countertops, spritzing and cleaning and putting things away until Anakin couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop!" he bellowed, brows dipping low.
Aquamarine eyes blinking back tears, the elder Jedi froze in place. "What it is, is cleanliness," he whispered in such hurt tones that his Padawan regretted his coarse outbreak. "I'm naturally neat and orderly, you're the one who makes the messes and leaves them for me. That's the way we live together." Anakin knew that Obi-Wan would retreat in this discussion as he always did in any intense encounter; his Master used Soresu in personal relationships as nimbly as he used it in the training salles. Sure enough, Obi-Wan flounced into the common room in his version of a snit. A closet door slammed and then their vacuum cleaner shrilled. Something had to be done before things escalated to another emotional storm in the Force that would have Masters Windu and Yoda alerted to their problems and trooping down here to their quarters. Again.
Anakin knew this like he knew the double sunset on Tatooine always gave him headaches. It didn't make what he had to say any easier. "We've gotten along together like this ever since I was nine," he thundered, loud enough so that Obi-Wan could hear over the vacuum cleaner in the other room. "That was ten years ago. I want things different, to be different. Teach me how to clean, how to dress and, and, be more like you. Neat-like." There, he had gotten out the words. Why was he struck dumb when it came to telling Obi-Wan what he wanted? The roiling emotions inside his chest, barely kept in check as usual, surged up to a boiling wave and he almost choked. He had to move. He drew his lightsaber.
"No sparring in the kitchen, Padawan," admonished Obi-Wan, leaning in, running the cleaning appliance back and forth in short, angry tracks. "I've just waxed the floors." It was like him to be so caught up in the minutiae of their daily life that he ignored the bigger issues. Or would he bring it up in bed tonight? Anakin decided to table any more important conversations and went directly for the immediate reward. Longterm commitments were so boring.
"Take off that apron, then, and help me to get rid of some energy. It's your duty, Master." Anakin wasn't good at subtleties. The powerful emotions that he was either blessed or cursed with, he couldn't decide which, needed an outlet and he knew how to motivate his Obi-Wan into action. Guilt him into it, he bragged to himself. Works every time. He turned to his Master with his patented scowl.
"Ah, ah, yes, you do need to disperse some, some ergs. Hang on a moment, Padawan," whispered Obi-Wan upon seeing the fierce expression on his beloved's face, and then he left for their bedroom. What would it be this time, Anakin wondered. Fishnets? The waitress uniform again? Anakin put away his lightsaber and ran aross the tiled kitchen floor, rumbling under his breath about Padme and her proclivities as he skidded on the slick floors and bonked into the far wall. He got up a good head of steam back to the kitchen island, sliding in his socks as if he were skiing on the famed slopes of Ragoon-6. Mercurial as a summer cloudburst followed by double rainbows, his mood lightened. This was going to be good.
A smile forcing its way upon his lips and eyelashes fluttering, Anakin turned to face the doorway.
"Erm ... uh ... a pittin?"
A felinoid. A striped felinoid. Complete with tail that was somehow attached to the costume or to Obi-Wan --- Anakin couldn't quite see how and didn't want to bend down to inspect the area, not just yet --- he saw Obi-Wan lick a paw and run the cleverly-made glove through his hair. Ugh, his Master was actually thinking this was attractive? Anakin's opinion must have shown in his expression.
"Oh!" Obi-Wan's face fell. "I've been saving this for a teachable moment. I hoped you'd like it ... my poor handiwork, all spoiled and wasted ... " He whimpered and wrung his paws. "I tried, really I did. I thought you'd take the reference." Anakin couldn't see Obi-Wan's lower lip through the beard, but no doubt it was quivering. All tender sympathy now where he had been horny before, he played Obi-Wan's game.
"Reference? No, don't tell me." 'Pittin.' Clean. Cute. 'Felinoid.' They, they are always neat and groom themselves and put away food for later ... no, that's squirrels ... um ...
Obi-Wan pulled away his tail with a grunt and a poink! before he flopped down on their chintz sofa. He straightened the antimacassars to have something to do with his, erm, hands, Anakin could tell. "I'm no good at training you," he moaned. "I can't even make a proper metaphor. This costume means, it means th-that if you want to be more like me and learn, you need to change into a completely new creature." Obi-Wan turned to Anakin, all earnestness and proper Jedi rectitude. "I need you to listen to me and to learn like a pittin does from its dam." The effect of the man's candor was lessened by a pittin ear that had become dislodged from his Master's hairclip. It slid downwards as Anakin watched. "Let's try again."
This was the most convoluted Jedi lesson that Anakin had ever heard of. It put all of Master Yoda's obscure sayings to shame. It must be important.
"Sure." For all his emotional ups and downs, Anakin did have an intellect that pushed its way through his seething intensity now and then. Then his glower returned. "I get to have a costume, too, right?" It would be his and his alone. "For our ... playtimes?"
Obi-Wan beamed a smile through his attached pittin whiskers. "It's waiting for you in the bedroom. I knew you'd reason your way through this! I knew I'd taught you to think!" The relief, the joy, danced through his aura as he led his Padawan away. Master Qui-Gon would be obeyed and Anakin would be trained.
a/n 2009 Entry in mrshamill of LJ's Bad!Fic contest. Changed a word or two, as I can resist everything except temptation. After three years of reading Ani/Obi slash, just poking a little fun.