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slightlyunconventional · 1 year

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told you i was writing a fic B) this took me #hours but i do not regret it. so here have three and a half thousand words worth of k/az and his miserable cold-ridden self !

careful care (in which k/az b/rekker has like the worst cold ever and i/nej cares for him as much as he'll let her)

Kaz didn’t think it was possible to have a personal vendetta against a celestial body, however the shaft of sunlight prying his eyes open seemed determined to prove him wrong. Despite this, the grasps of sleep tried their damnedest to drag him back down into their depths, however his dozy state was quickly eradicated by a sharp tickle in his nose. He found himself muffling a pair of sneezes clumsily into the soft fabric of his duvet.

“-hehH’tTSHhiew! huh’shHHiew!”

The double was followed by a series of shaky coughs directed loosely into his raised fist. This was not about to be a good day. With a groan, Kaz hauled himself out of bed, reluctant to abandon the warmth of his sheets. He grimaced at the spasms of pain that shot up his bad leg as put pressure on it standing up - it always hurt first thing in the morning, but the pain was much more pronounced today. Decidedly ignoring the pain, Kaz began getting dressed. He pulled on a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and fastened a deep maroon tie around his neck, his every move punctuated by increasingly wet sniffles. He swiped up his cane from where it leaned against his bedside table and made his way to the desk to consult his watch - eleven bells. He’d slept in. Panic jolted through him as he realised how long he’d been asleep and very much vulnerable for, hell, any miserable wretch could have done anything to him and he wouldn’t have known. He tried to shake the thought from his head. Kaz coughed sharply again, displeased at the scratch it left behind in his throat. He headed out of the room, across the corridor and into the bathroom, where he slipped off his gloves and set them down beside the sink, before turning on the faucet and splashing water onto his face. As he attempted to tame the pillow-induced mess that was his hair, Kaz noted the pallor taken on by his face, and elected to ignore it, even more so the way it made the pink hue of his nose stand out painfully. He sighed and dried his hands, then his face. Almost immediately, he found himself needing to sneeze again. His only option was to catch them in the towel, so he braced it tighter against his face.

“heh-heHH’sSHHhuuh! -tTSHHh!”

Clicking his tongue in disgust, Kaz slipped his gloves back on, and made his way downstairs.

Kaz descended the creaky stairs of the Slat, gritting his teeth against the twinge his knee gave with every step. He reached the bottom, paused to let his leg rest for even the briefest moment, and rounded the corner into the living room - a room not particularly comfortable or cosy, but enough for the five of them to spend quiet mornings or evenings playing cards games at the table. Wylan, Jesper, and Nina were sitting on the worn sofa, talking animatedly about something Kaz didn’t care to listen in on, for his nose was burning ferociously again. He took a step back, almost backing out of the door, and twisted himself around so he was facing away from the room, and announced his presence with a rather heavy sneeze into his elbow.

“HhuH’dDJSHHhuuh!”

A chorus of “bless you”s sounds from around the room, along with a snarky “Took you long enough,” from Jesper. Kaz nodded in acknowledgement of the blessings, and ignored Jesper’s comment. Inej appeared from the kitchen and approached Kaz. She handed him a steaming mug (one of a set of five gifted to the group by Inej, having each of their initials on it - this one was black with the letter ‘K’ painted in gold) of coffee.

“I made you this as soon as I heard you wake up. Everything okay?”

Kaz took the mug from her. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “I was just tired last night, I think.”

Inej’s eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him. As though calling himself out for lying, Kaz turned quickly to the side with a sharp set of coughs which shook his chest. He could see the concern growing in Inej’s face, by the shine of her brown eyes and the furrow forming between her dark brows. “Maybe tea would have been better,” she observed, “but I know how much you hate being coddled, so just take care of yourself, alright?”

The taller man nodded stiffly as Inej returned to Jesper, Wylan, and Nina’s lively conversation. Kaz sighed and sat in his chair, allowing himself to relax a little as he listened to them talk - something about a fight in the bar the previous night. He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of that. He sipped his coffee, throat half soothed by the drink’s warmth, half irritated further by the bitter taste. The steam wafting up from the mug made his nose threaten to start running, so he pawed at it absently with a gloved knuckle. The faint beginnings of a tickle began to bloom somewhere high, deep, behind the bridge of his nose. He continued rubbing at his nose to try and alleviate the sensation. However, his scrubbing made the tickle quickly worse, barely giving him a chance to think before he was sneezing again.

“-hh-haAHh’sSCHhuh! heh’sSHHhew! H-haahh…” He lifted his head gingerly from his elbow, only to find himself almost straight away gasping deeply as another sneeze made its presence known. “haAH’kKSHHhuuh!”

Kaz sniffled thickly as he received another round of blessings. Everyone except Inej resumed their animated conversation, who kept her eyes trained on Kaz. Kaz knew full well that he’d come down with a cold - and a viciously sneezy one, at that - but he wasn’t willing to admit it to himself, though he was fairly certain that Inej knew about it, somehow. She always did. The smaller girl shifted her chair closer to his, and she produced a box of tissues from under the coffee table, where it was always kept. Kaz looked down at it with supreme displeasure, then back at Inej with the same look. He sniffled a couple of times, thoroughly tempted by the tissues Inej was offering him. Instead of taking them, though, like any sensible person would, he sighed, stood up, and left the room. Kaz caught a faint, “What’s his problem?” from Nina as he turned to go back upstairs.

He swayed slightly on the first few steps, his head hot and fuzzy from standing up so quickly, but forced himself to regain balance, determinedly dismissing the screaming pain radiating from his leg. Finally, Kaz reached his office. He regretted stationing himself at the top of the building more than he cared to quantify. Not even a second after slumping down in his chair was Kaz building up to sneeze yet again. He didn’t much fancy the idea of sneezing into his shirt sleeve again, so he fought desperately against his hitching breaths and prickling nostrils while rummaging frantically through his desk drawers for a handkerchief. His hands shook gradually more and more as the need to sneeze doubled, tripled, quadrupled- then his fingers closed around what he was looking for: a neat square of burgundy fabric patterned faintly with an intricate floral design. Just to his luck, he sneezed, wet and harsh, just before the handkerchief reached his face.

“-hhuUHh’GKKTSHHhuh!” The explosion left a fine mist hanging upon the air in front of him. “Saindts,” he said, appalled at himself, then even further repulsed by the dense congestion in his voice. Annoyed, Kaz sniffed thickly, only to find that his whole head, particularly his sinuses, felt as though it's been packed tightly with cotton wool. Now in the privacy of his own office, he slipped off his gloves, lay back in his chair and huffs, dragging a finger under his nose, rather annoyed by how full it felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a cold as awful as this one, and Saints, it progressed fast. He recalled feeling perfectly fine the night before, maybe a sniffle here and there, but nothing more. Now he felt like someone was pinching his nose shut so he couldn’t breathe out of it, forcing him to swallow razor blades, and repeatedly kicking him in the side of the head. He was miserable. With another sigh, Kaz leaned forward and put his head in his hands, balls of his palms pressed firmly onto his eyes, forcefully willing away the headache he knew was well on its way. As if the agony in his head wasn’t enough, the itch in his nose reignited. Kaz lifted his head in annoyance and snatched the red handkerchief back up, just in time for-

“HehH’gkKTSCHHhiiew!” A very wet sneeze, so much so that he had to pinch the handkerchief over his face to wipe the mess from his face as he pulled away from it. “Ugh,” he breathed, grimacing in disgust. Kaz ran a hand through his hair, letting out an annoyed breath. He felt he ought to do something productive, even though he could hardly breathe through his nose and his head was pricking with the ominous threat of a migraine. Returning back to his desk drawers, Kaz produced a binder of paperwork and made a reluctant start on it.

He couldn’t put his heart into it, and his hand nearly refused to keep the pen in its grip, but he managed a fair stack of papers over the next hour, albeit an hour of abundant sniffles and scattered with rattling coughs. By the time he gave up trying to work, his head was pounding deeply, his throat was as raw as anything, and his nose felt stickier with congestion than ever. He thought he’d escaped the sneezing, but much to his dismay, he was hitching again with a ferocious prickle in his nostrils.

“haAHh’kKZSHHhuh! -aAH’KTSCHH-huh!” Two harsh sneezes, aimed lazily into a half-heartedly lifted arm (though most of it is directed into the open air to his side). His breath snagged again immediately after the double, but nothing happened. Kaz felt his brows draw closer together. He was stuck in a torturous, tickly limbo. He lifted his arm closer to his face, as though to coax the sneeze he so desperately needed with a comfortable landing spot - to no avail. In desperation, he shifted his blurry, watery gaze up to the light fixture on the ceiling. The itch climaxed and Kaz gasped deeply. Inej entered the room, pushing the door open in her usual quiet manner. Kaz sneezed, loud and grating.

“HaAHh’kKZZSCHHhuuh! Fucking…” Before he could say anything to Inej, he was dragged into a fit of tearing coughs, each of which feeling like knives against his already sore throat.

“Saints, bless you, Kaz,” said Inej, “That’s one hell of a cold you’ve got there.” Kaz looked up, about to ask how she knew about him being sick, but stopped himself. She always knew.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said to her, the rasp in his voice amplified tenfold, “I can’t get you sick.”

Inej smiled reassuringly. “You won’t get me sick. Just let me help you, okay?” Kaz hesitated, reluctant to accept her care. At last, he gave her a single, stiff nod. “I’ll fix you some tea, first off. It’ll help with that throat.” Inej disappeared from the room and down the stairs.

Inej headed downstairs and into the kitchen, where she put some water on to boil and got out the ingredients for one of her mother’s tea recipes, one meant to ease congestion and relax an inflamed throat - perfect for Kaz, she thought. While Inej waited for the water to boil, Nina came in.

“What’s up with Brekker, then?” she asked. Inej shook her head, almost in exasperation.

“He’s got a dreadful cold. Sneezing and coughing all over the place,” replied Inej. Nina tilted her head with sympathy.

“Bless him. Want me to see to him? I can probably help him out,” Nina offered, gesturing vaguely with her hands to indicate her Heartrender power. Inej shook her head.

“Thank you, but he’s reluctant to even let me in there with him.” Inej leaned against the counter. “He’s tiring, sometimes, Kaz,” she said with a sigh. Nina snorted.

“You can say that again.”

Inej smiled at her as the water finished boiling. “I’d better get to making his tea,” she said.

“Best hope he doesn’t die drinking something that isn’t pitch-black coffee, eh?” teased Nina, “Good luck with him. Let me know if you need any help, sweet.”

Inej nodded as Nina left the room with a little wave. She sighed again and began preparing the tea, a soothing floral blend with a teaspoon of honey stirred in. Inej picked up the mug and made her way back upstairs, careful not to spill any on her way up. She wondered why Kaz insisted on having his office on the top floor, what with his cane and everything.

When she reached Kaz’s room, she tapped on the door, then pushed it open slowly when she received no reply. Inej was met with a sight she didn’t expect - Kaz Brekker, asleep at his desk, head resting upon his folded arms. She’d hardly been downstairs ten minutes and he’d already fallen asleep. He must really not be feeling good, she thought with worry. Kaz’s breathing was soft, though slightly laboured due to congestion. Inej set the mug down on the desk beside him and returned to the door, unhooking his high-collared great-coat from the peg on the back of it. She draped it over his sleeping form, tucking it snugly around his shoulders. Then, she picked up a pen and a scrap of paper from the desk and wrote a note in her tidy handwriting - “Sorry if the tea is cold, I didn’t want to wake you. Feel better soon.” She signed off the note with a tiny love heart and placed it next to the mug. There wasn’t much else Inej could do, so she decided to head back downstairs. As she reached the bottom, she saw Nina again who cast her a puzzled glance.

“Asleep,” said Inej. Nina mouthed “Ah,” then offered her arm to Inej who gratefully looped her own arm through Nina’s.

“We’re playing blackjack in here, if you want to join us. It’s a bit… chaotic, though. Jesper doesn’t seem to know how to count to twenty-one.” Inej giggled at that, and allowed Nina to lead her into the living room.

The four of them played cards for a couple of hours, and Inej let her worries about Kaz ease during their rowdy games. Nina was right - Jesper kept insisting that seven and nine summed to twenty-one, despite Wylan repeatedly telling him that that actually makes sixteen. He also kept having to be reminded that an ace card doubles as both one and eleven, due to his uproar when Nina supposedly won with a ten and an ace. “But that only makes eleven!” he’d shouted amidst Inej’s giddy peals of laughter and Nina’s whoops of victory. After they finished what felt like their hundredth game, Inej lay back in her seat, face aching from grinning and her heart sufficiently full. Jesper and Nina announced that they were going to make dinner together (definitely a bad combination in the kitchen) and took off through the door. As they left, Wylan and Inej heard a sneeze echo through the Slat’s walls. Being two stories above them, the sound was muffled, but it was still evident that it was loud and harsh. They exchanged concerned glances. Inej sighed.

“He’s awake. I’d better go and check on him,” she said. Wylan nodded, muttering something about making sure the building doesn’t burn down, before hurrying off to the kitchen. Inej headed for the stairs, picking up the pace as another sneeze reverberated from above her. When she reached Kaz’s room, he was standing up, a hand braced against his desk to keep himself upright. He exploded into a fit of wracking coughs, the outburst topped off with a third wrenching sneeze.

“h-huuhh…heh-ehHH’ZZSCHHhiew!” He looked doubly exhausted afterwards. His nose was a brilliant shade of red by this point, and his eyes possessed a distinct glassy quality that wasn’t nearly as evident two hours prior.

“Kaz,” Inej said quietly.

“I’m- I’m okay,” said Kaz, voice hoarse from all the coughs and sneezes tearing up his throat.

“Kaz,” she repeated, voice still gentle but firmer than before. He sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Inej, I’m- I don’t-” He closed his eyes, sighed again, and continued, “‘m cold, head hurts, and I keep… keep-” His breath caught, “-s-sdeezihH-!” The tail end of his sentence was lifted by the need to sneeze, and he did so, into his elbow.

“h-haAHh’zZSHHhew! Ohh…” The sneeze conveyed perfectly the sheer exhaustion in Kaz’s bones to Inej.

“Saints’ blessings,” she said, head tilted in sympathy, “You really ought to get some sleep. Though, have you eaten today?”

Kaz paused, then shook his head hesitantly. “Oh, Kaz,” Inej said softly. She ponders for a moment, “Well, do you feel like eating anything?” He shook his head again, knuckling at his nose with one hand. Clearly, he noticed the way Inej deflated a little at his words, and said, voice thick with miserable congestion, “I cad try to… to eat somethidng.”

Inej smiled. “That’s good enough for me,” she said, “Jesper and Nina are cooking tonight - terrifying, I know -” she added upon seeing Kaz’s expression, “so I can bring you up a plate if you like?”

Kaz shook his head at her. “I haven’t moved from here all day, practically. I thidk my leg would just about give up if I didn’t move myself somewhere,” he said, still sniffling.

“Alright,” Inej replied, “Can I at least get you to blow your nose? You sound awfully stuffed up.”

“Fine,” Kaz said. Inej smiled softly again, and picked up the red handkerchief from his desk. “Ah- that’s, uh,” Kaz started. Inej’s brows lifted in realisation.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll get some tissues.”

Dinner went mostly uneventfully. Nobody paid much mind to Kaz’s affliction, for which he was very grateful. He couldn’t find his appetite - something he knew would upset Inej - so he spent most of the time pushing food around his plate with a fork, sniffling thickly all the while. Inej cast him a few sideways glances that he determinedly ignored. He’d already let his guard down enough. The congestion was still heavy in his head, forcing him to breathe through his mouth, which irritated his inflamed throat more than Kaz thought was even possible. That meant he had to force back a number of coughing fits throughout the meal. He found himself thoroughly distracted, and dare he say bored, while the others talked around him, though even if he wanted to, it wasn’t like he’d actually be able to get a word in edgeways. He was beginning to zone out, when suddenly, his nose began burning with an incessant tickle, one so fiery and abundant that there was nothing he could do to stop the oncoming outbursts. He pushed his chair quickly back from the table, chest heaving rapidly. The piercing squeal of the seat against the floor pulled four sets of eyes onto him, but he couldn’t be bothered to care that he was being watched for his nose was too busy practically twitching with need as he ducked desperately into the crook of his arm to muffle a series of sneezes.

“heh-haAH-hHH’KZZSCHHhiew! ‘hKXTSCHhuuh! haAh’gkKSCHH-huh! huUHh’kKXZSCHhew! ‘gGKTSCHHh!” Five sneezes burst from him, each one heavier and messier than the last. Once he was done, his chest was rising and falling in exhausted pants, and it was all he could do to hide his streaming nose behind his gloved hand. The table seemed stunned into silence, and for good reason - not one of them (not even Kaz himself) had ever witnessed him sneeze like that before. Kaz avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. Inej was the first to act, since she had thorough experience with sick Barrel bosses. She tapped his shoulder gently as he attempted to recover from the wrenching fit.

“I think it’s time you got some rest, hey?” she murmured to him. Kaz nodded vaguely, blearily. Inej stood up, then held her arms out as a caution for Kaz while he jerkily hauled himself out of his own chair.

Once they finally reached Kaz’s room, Inej sat him down on his bed.

“I’ll leave you to sort yourself out in a minute - I’m sure you don’t want me stripping you down and tucking you in,” she said with a wink, “How’s that head?”

Kaz lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Still hurts,” he mumbled tiredly. She nodded.

“I’ll get a glass of water, then. Do you mind if I check you for fever? I’d just have to touch your cheeks and forehead. It’s fine if not, though.” Kaz hesitated, looking wary, but finally he nodded. Inej sat down on the bed next to him and gently pressed the backs of her fingers to Kaz’s face, first to each of his cheeks, and then to his forehead. Throughout the process, she repeated to him, barely a whisper, “I’m here, you’re safe, we’re safe.” Her soft voice threatened to slide his eyes shut. She took her hand from his face.

“You’re a little warm, but it should clear up after you get some sleep.” Kaz nodded, eyes half-lidded as though he was about to drift off where he was sat. He knuckled gently at his nose again, but the touch teased two more sneezes out of him which he just barely caught in exhausted hands.

“heh-hehH’zZSHhiew! huh’tshHHhuh! Mmh…” Inej smiled sympathetically.

“Get yourself changed, okay? I can’t have you falling asleep in a shirt and tie. I’ll fetch that water.”

#YAY!!#this took ages but i did have a good time writing it sooo #apologies also for any errors with tense since the plan i wrote for this was in present tense but the fic itself is in past tense #so very sorry for any present tense that possibly snuck in #snz #s/hadow and b/one #snzblr #snz kink #snz blog #snzario #sneeze kink #snzfic

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tennessoui · 1 year

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For The propmts, "I can't trust you"

hi hello!!!

this is set in my "there was only one desk" au, where obi-wan and anakin, well. share a desk in the office and hate each other.

"""""hate each other"""""

(1.5k) (angst here and now but actually the stupidest thing ever)

The person sitting at Obi-Wan’s desk is not, in fact, Obi-Wan Kenobi. For one thing, it’s a woman with a severe red bobcut and better fashion sense than Kenobi’s ever had. For another thing, Anakin can’t actually remember a time when he’s made the trek up to the twelfth floor just to annoy Kenobi only for the man to not give him attention. So this woman, who doesn’t even raise her eyes to look at him when he’s standing next to her desk, can’t be Kenobi.

“Uh,” Anakin says. He’s holding a singular cupcake on a plate in both hands, red velvet because Obi-Wan hates red velvet and with a candle in the icing because Obi-Wan is extremely paranoid about the sensitivity of the sprinkler system. “Who are you?”

The woman’s fingers pause on the keyboard and she looks up at him sharply. With a raised eyebrow, she tilts her head to the nameplate on Obi-Wan’s desk.

Bo-Katan Kryze it reads.

Anakin blinks. “Do you—share this desk with Obi-Wan?”

“I don’t know who that is. I sit here every day,” Kryze says. “Is there something I can help you with?” She makes it clear that she believes there is absolutely nothing she wants to help him with.

“Um.” Anakin stares at her uninterested face, the nameplate, the desk itself.

He realizes rather suddenly that the plants are gone. All of Obi-Wan’s plants are gone, and in their places are picture frames filled with pictures of strangers, a standing calendar, and a souvenir mug.

“No,” he says slowly. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” the woman says, turning back to her computer. “Have a nice day.”

Anakin turns around and goes back to the elevators around the corner. He feels a bit stupid, holding a plate wth a cupcake on it, so he tosses it into a small trashcan next to a desk as he passes by, plate and all.

He still feels a bit stupid, and the feeling lingers all the way from the twelfth floor to the tenth, where his desk is. If Obi-Wan was playing a prank on him, he just fell for it like an idiot.

But if he hadn’t—

“Obi-Wan wasn’t at his desk,” Anakin says to Vos as he sits down in front of his own computer. “There was this woman there instead, and she’d moved all of his stuff. Even the nametag.”

Vos doesn’t look up from his screen. He’s been sort of distant since Anakin came back, like he forgot how to talk or some shit during the month and a half he was away.

His silence would make sense if Obi-Wan asked him to help with the prank. And Vos probably would hop on the opportunity to fuck with Anakin. He tries to say he doesn’t play favorites of course, but he very clearly does.

And his favorite very clearly is Kenobi, not Anakin.

Anakin remembers the chair incident, after all.

So if Obi-Wan told him about trying to pull a fast one on Anakin his first day back at the office, hire a woman to sit at his desk and change all of its decorations just to confuse him, Vos would probably help out by pretending everything is normal.

Anakin narrows his eyes and looks at his desk. Nothing’s been moved or changed since he last saw it. No new cameras to video his reaction.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” he asks, looking over at Vos. “I mean, it’s a lot of work, isn’t it? Points for creativity, I guess though.”

Vos’ fingers still on his keys and he finally looks up, going as far as to take his hands off the keyboard completely. “What?”

“Like where did he put his plants? And the zen garden with all the sand, you know? He moved that zen garden somewhere else just to fuck with me for a bit? And the name too, her name— Bo-Katan? Kryze? He could have tried a little harder to make up something believable.”

Vos looks at him, eyebrows furrowing. “Sorry,” he says slowly. “But–sorry, but what do you think is happening here, exactly?”

Anakin frowns. Usually Vos would be laughing by now. “Joke’s on him though, I brought him a cupcake to celebrate my first day back, and me and Bo-Katan split it instead. No cupcake for Obi-Wan. It’s what he deserves for such a lame prank.”

“Skywalker,” Vos’ voice sounds even slower. “Skywalker, there is no prank.”

There’s a very weird feeling in his gut. He forces a laugh. “Uh, right, of course not,” he says. “But seriously, where is Obi-Wan? I’ve been taking pictures I want to show him for months. He’s going to love them.”

He better love them, at least, if he knows what’s good for him. But Luke and Leia are adorable, especially now that they’ve stopped teething on everything in range. Even someone as heartless and deplorable as Kenobi will be swayed by their big eyes and general all-encompassing cuteness.

The look Vos gives him is uncharacteristically cold. “Two things, Skywalker. First, there’s no prank. Obi-Wan quit. Sounds like you brought cupcakes to his replacement, like some. One man office welcome brigade. Second, if you really think Obi-Wan Kenobi wants to see your fucking baby pictures, you’re more stupid than I thought.”

Anakin blinks and then stares as the feeling in his stomach spreads to his chest. “What? No. No way.” He blinks again, eyebrows furrowing. “Is this the prank?”

Vos pushes his chair away from his keyboard, rolling it to the edge of his desk. “Skywalker. Anakin. There is no prank. I’m telling you the truth. Obi-Wan has separated from the company. He is not here today, and he won’t be here tomorrow. He left.”

“But—” Anakin’s mouth is open, but no words are coming out. “But. He didn’t tell me.”

There’s a knot in his stomach, one that may be bigger than his stomach altogether. No, it has to be some sort of—of prank. Of practical joke at his expense. When Obi-Wan pops out in an hour or so, Anakin is going to hit him so hard in, like. The shoulder. For the crime of being really, really not funny.

“Why would he tell you, Skywalker?” Vos asks, carefully putting his hands on his knees as he looks at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “You don’t like each other.”

“I—I mean. We do!” Anakin splutters. “We spent quarantine together! And last summer when we did the office expedition and got lost, we camped together! For two whole days!”

“Those aren’t bonding activities,” Quinlan says. “You know that, right? No one else would consider those things as foundations for a friendship or even workplace relationship.”

Like he always seems to do when Kenobi and “workplace relatitonships” are brought up in the same sentence, Anakin flushes. He can feel the tips of his go red.

“Look, I get that you’re—friends or whatever,” he mutters, pitching his voice down low so that no one else can eavesdrop. Not that anyone else is really paying attention, but just in case. “But we’ve—you know, you saw us. During the. The quarantine. We. Spent the night together.”

“Yeah, you fucked,” Vos rolls his eyes. “You fucked.” “So if he were going to leave the company, he’d tell me, alright?” Anakin puts his hand down flat on the desk. “Yeah? He’d tell me.”

“Only if sleeping with you meant something to him,” Vos points out, pushing his chair back fully behind his desk. “So I guess it didn’t.”

The words—sting.

A lot.

The words fucking hurt like Vos has just thrown a fucking cactus into his dick. Because—alright, they’d never talked about it afterwards or anything, but—kissing Kenobi, his annoying and annoyingly attractive deskmate, sleeping with him, touching him and being touched in return…it’d changed things for Anakin. Things he didn’t want to name then, and things he definitely doesn’t want to name now, if—if Obi-Wan really…really just.

Left.

Anakin shakes his head, wordless. “It meant something,” he says, practicing the words, even if it’s only Vos around to hear him.

“Yeah?” and Vos’ voice is cold. “Then why’d you just take almost two months of paternity leave, huh? If sleeping with my friend meant something.”

Anakin shakes his head again, staring fixedly at his keyboard. “Did he really—Vos, you’re not lying, are you? Did he actually quit?”

Vos is silent for several long moments. “Yeah,” he says, sounding strange. “Yeah, he did. This is—you’re upset about this, aren’t you?”

It could still be a joke though, because sometimes Vos goes too far and sometimes he doesn’t know when to quit, even though Anakin thinks he’s pretty obviously begging him to stop right about now.

He stands. “I—I don’t believe you. I can’t— I can’t trust you.”

Vos watches him swing his jacket on with raised eyebrows. “I suppose you don’t need his address then,” he says, expression guarded. “If you’re going to fact-check this yourself.”

Of course Anakin is going to fact-check this for his fucking self.

And either way, Obi-Wan Kenobi is going to have a lot of explaining to do.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #there was only one desk au #anyway so part two would be the confrontation #and obi-wan did quit and he didn't tell anakin #because he was all hurt that he emailed anakin one day and got an out of office automatic response #that was like 'on paternity leave be back in a couple of months'#and like hes so hurt because damn he a) thought he and anakin were getting really close to dating #but he's expecting kids? what is the sitch with the mom?? they must be together #and anyway b) they must not actually be friends if obi-wan is finding this out NOW #like THIS #and anyway the truth is anakin impulse adopted 2 stray puppies outside his apartment complex #took a wild amount of time off to get them used to his place and him as their dad #was rushing in his out of office email and went to make a pun (pet-ernity leave) but didnt notice the autocorrect #so all of the office and obi-wan thinks he has babies now #just want that one scene where anakin is like no!!! luke and leia are my dogs!!! i took peternity leave!!#and obi-wan pinches the bridge of his nose and deep breathes for ten seconds before going #what (another deep breath)#the FUCK is PET-ERNITY LEAVE #yeah ok kit understands thta this could hava been a text post

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