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"Wow," you breathe.
The single word is a puff of air under the shining city lights, a sign of the chill. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and both you and Obi-Wan are bundled up for the freezing winter weather. Together you stand hand in glove-clad hand to the entrance of your city’s annual Christmas market, shuffling out of the way as a group of people pass you to get in. The sun has long since set, but that hardly matters. Far above your heads, the strings of bright white lights provide more than enough of a glow to see by.
All down the street are rows and rows of little cabins set up for the vendors, each topped with a dusting of snow. You’re impressed that so much work goes into something like this, but then again, how could it not? It’s Christmas; the best time of year to pull out all the stops. Holiday music and lively chatter seems to come from everywhere, and as you turn to look at Obi-Wan, he gives you a reassuring smile.
It makes your heart flutter even as you return the look. He looks adorable bundled up in his thick winter coat and deep blue scarf, toque tousling his copper hair.
You’ve been trying to come down here and explore for weeks, but either your work schedule would interfere, or you would be in a position where you would have to go alone. Obi-Wan knew you didn’t want to miss this, and when he proposed that the two of you go together when your schedules finally aligned, you were excited to say the least.
"Quite a lot to explore, isn't it?" he muses.
You hum in answer, huddling closer. Though the grand display of the Christmas market is beautiful, you weren't expecting it all to be quite this crowded.
Obi-Wan notices your grip on his hand and squeezes back.
"I won't let you get lost in there, sweetheart."
His smile is gently teasing, but you know that he means what he says. You'll stay anchored at his side amidst the hustle and bustle, and if it all becomes too much, he won't be angry if you tell him you want to leave.
"Are you ready?"
Nodding, you take your first step into the market.
Right from the start it's an assault of sights and sounds and smells from every angle, and you do your best to take in as much as you can. You're glad you have Obi-Wan there to anchor you – and especially grateful you have him there to help you navigate the more crowded areas. More than once he pulls you back when someone tries to walk right into you, or places a steady hand on your side to help keep you from doing the same.
"People need to watch where they're going," he mutters.
He tucks you under his arm, not content with holding your hand, and the buffeting from the packed-tight crowd comes to an end. You can't lie: you feel safer pressed close to his body than almost anywhere else in the world, and his small act of protection is more appreciated than you feel your soft thank you gets across.
Together you browse like that, picking up snacks from one of the friendly vendors from the end of the row and indulging in hot chocolate topped with caramel and whipped cream. The caramel sticks to his mustache with his last sip, and you brush it away with your thumb, licking it clean. Obi-Wan smirks at you, holding still, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention.
You thought you'd had the majority of your Christmas shopping done, but the market has so much to offer. It feels like every time you pass a new seller, you're tempted to stop and look. The longer you mill around, the more you forget the chill in the air as you and Obi-Wan let yourselves browse everything there is to see.
Well, as much as you can before you have to get home. You could easily spend all night here before the market closes, but the two of you are looking forward to having dinner together after you explore.
It’s nice to be out with him. You’re the kind of person that could be more than happy spending most of their time indoors, all lazy evenings and quiet moments. Some of the best memories you have with Obi-Wan are the times you’ve just been cuddled up together, not saying much, simply sharing time together without the need for constant conversation. And the longer you’ve been together, the more that’s become your routine. Something comfortable and well-worn between the two of you, as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.
But this has its perks, too. A tiny part of you likes being seen with Obi-Wan, though you’re never going to admit to that out loud. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he felt the same way about you. There’s a spring in his step right from the start of your night, his voice cheerful as he points out the next unique thing that catches his eye. The holiday season has been a little busier than either of you had anticipated in terms of work, and having the opportunity tonight to slow down a little and enjoy each other’s company is priceless.
“Are you having a good time?” Obi-Wan murmurs as the two of you pause with your cocoa, taking a moment to let the warm drink take away some of the chill.
“I am,” you answer, leaning into him happily.
Christmas has always been your absolute favorite time of year, and getting to share it with someone you love makes it all the more special. All the softness from your beloved holiday romance movies is now happening to you in real time, with someone you adore, and no matter how long you’re with Obi-Wan you can’t seem to get used to it.
If this rush-in-your-chest feeling is keen on sticking around, though, you won’t complain.
As a whole, you’ve gotten used to Obi-Wan’s inherent charm. Before you started dating him, you saw it in the kind way he treated servers, often pausing to engage them in conversation during a meal. They’d walk away smiling, sometimes blushing, leaving your table no doubt a little happier for the rest of their shifts. Once the two of you were out walking and passed a young man struggling to get his things shoved back into an overflowing backpack. Obi-Wan didn’t think twice about breaking his stride and bending to pick up handfuls of papers, shrugging off the other man’s gratitude.
He’s just a good person, and that goodness translates seamlessly into your relationship once you take it to the next level. Obi-Wan is already so sweet as your friend, something that never fails to make your face hot with uncertainty about your own feelings. You constantly tell yourself that he doesn't really like you the way that you like him, because he treats everyone like this.
Until the moment of clarity comes, almost a year ago now.
When you and Obi-Wan had met through mutual friends, you knew at once that you were attracted to him. How could you not be? He's funny, intelligent, kind, gorgeous. And along with it, he isn't the type of man to let any of his attributes go to his own head. You’ve never met anyone so good-looking who doesn't even know. So likable and down-to-earth. If anyone teases him about his handsomeness, he turns a startling shade of pink and changes the subject, as if embarrassed about it.
It doesn't take your friends long to catch on to your little crush, but you beg them to keep quiet. Because what if Obi-Wan finds out? Your self-esteem is questionable at best. For weeks, you’ve been imagining the look on his face if he ever caught wind of your true feelings. The same scenario always plays out in your mind, and it's devastating. He’d be as delicate with you as possible, telling you that he treasures your friendship, but that he just doesn't feel that way, and hopes you'll understand.
So you keep your mouth shut, and fall harder.
There isn't a free moment when you aren't either thinking about him or texting him. Everything seems to remind you of him, or trace back to some inside joke you’ve formed together. Even when you're busy with work, you sneak your phone out to shoot a quick text, and there are times when you have to fight not to laugh at some clever response he gives.
You feel lucky just to have such a strong connection with him. The thought of losing it by doing something silly like admitting to your crush is terrifying. Because if he rejects you, you’ll lose him. Putting words to what your heart feels only to be shot down? You don't think your friendship could recover. But if you keep it to yourself, at least you’ll have this; a friendship and connection you’ve come to value so much over the months since you’ve known him. You’d hate to make him uncomfortable, to ruin it all.
Little did you know, he’s been harboring similar thoughts.
That year's Christmas party was its usual enjoyable mix of friends, all gathered in your apartment for drinks and holiday music and a variety of sweets and snacks. You're more nervous than you have any right to be, picking at a string on the sleeve of your sweater as more of your friends file in. Your apartment is warm and cozy, protected from the outside chill, and you try to keep a convincing smile on your face as people come up to you for conversation.
When Obi-Wan walks in the door, the rush of adrenaline you get is more than overwhelming. He shouldn’t be allowed to look as good as he does in his simple holiday sweater and coat, his cheeks and nose rosy from the cold. You watch from a distance as your roommate takes his jacket, your heart thudding out a helpless rhythm in your chest.
You’re being ridiculous, you chastise yourself, returning his smile as he catches your eye. Another rush of pure emotion, and you think you might be dying.
Your hello to him comes out far shakier than you mean for it to, but Obi-Wan doesn't seem to notice. He only smiles back, returning the greeting. You embrace one another briefly, and you breathe in his familiar cedarwood smell with delight. His scent is clean and familiar and masculine.
"You look lovely tonight," he adds, and a beat later, his face turns a rather dark shade of red. "I – er – not that you don't look lovely on a regular day, I just thought – that outfit suits you."
Baffled, you blink at him, feeling your own face go hot.
"Thank – thank you?"
It's not out of the ordinary for Obi-Wan to give you a compliment. Throughout your text exchanges, you've sent selfies back and forth to one another, and he often answers with praise on your features or clothes. Nothing flirty or explicit, though, he's just…being friendly. Right?
There are so many times you've asked yourself that question.
As the party goes on and you have fun with your friends, mingling and playing board games and laughing at the utterly terrible Christmas movies playing in the background, you can't help but catch his eye across the room throughout the night. Surely it's your imagination, a coincidence that you're catching his glance so often.
And when you are together talking, the air between you definitely doesn't feel more electric than ever. That's the rosé doing its work, your half empty glass glued to your hand like a lifeline.
As the clock creeps toward midnight, your friends slowly start to head home. Eventually, only you, your roommate, and Obi-Wan are left – and even then, your roommate heads to bed. In tandem, you and Obi-Wan wish her a good night, and she shoots you a knowing grin before disappearing into her bedroom.
The apartment is quiet. In the soft glow of Christmas lights, the short distance between the two of you on the couch seems even smaller. If you wanted to – if that sort of thing were allowed – you could reach out and put your hand on his knee. His arm. His face.
"Quite the party," Obi-Wan says, giving you a soft smile. "I have to say, this is going to make my department's get-together look quite dull in comparison."
"Well, I'm sorry that you'll have to endure it," you tease.
He snorts, and the air between you feels lighter now. More like the playful atmosphere that comes naturally through text, or when you're able to see one another casually with friends.
"Hardly something you need to apologize for." He leans over and takes a sip of his drink, and your eyes follow how he licks his lips. "I had a wonderful time. Thank you for inviting me."
"Of course," you blurt. "I had a great time tonight, too. I'm glad you came."
Even with your fears of him discovering your true feelings lingering so close to the surface, you'd never think of excluding him from your holiday party. Especially not when you've been talking about it so often the past few weeks. You couldn't imagine tonight happening without Obi-Wan here. His companionship is so valuable to you, and you know everyone else at the party was looking forward to seeing him as well.
Obi-Wan beams at that, something like sunlight though the stars came out long ago, and it threatens to drive your breath away. Then his look fades a little at the edges, uncertainty crossing his face, and you watch as he takes a steadying breath.
"What is it?"
You know anxiety when you see it; you've been dealing with plenty of your own, after all.
He bites his lip, wringing his hands where before they'd sat placidly in his lap.
"I – well," Obi-Wan begins. "There's something I've been meaning – I've been trying to say. For some time." His eyes dart up to yours before they look away, and you're filled with concern and confusion.
To avoid making him any more uncomfortable, you wait, shifting a little in place. You’re glad that he can trust you with something like this, even if being kept in suspense is stressing you out. Whatever it is he’s going to tell you, you’re going to try and provide all the support that a friend should, with no judgment.
At last, Obi-Wan meets your eye.
“I’m afraid I’ve developed a rather large crush on you,” he confesses quickly, placing a palm on the back of his neck as if it could stave off the heat of his blush.
What.
You’ve had too much wine. That has to be the explanation, because you know you didn’t hear him say the words crush and you in the same sentence. You try to process the information as Obi-Wan carefully meets your eye once more, like he’s trying to determine what your reaction to his statement is. When you still can’t seem to speak, he keeps going.
“I’m so sorry if this is what breaks our friendship,” he says, his voice somewhat choked. “But the fact of the matter is, I simply don’t think I can ignore this any longer. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. Please, say the word and I’m out the door. Out of your life. I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.”
Before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on his arm, his sweater rolled up to the elbow in the warmth of your apartment. Bare skin meets bare skin, and you’re surprised by how natural that feels.
“Obi-Wan, no,” you insist. “I don’t – I don’t want you to go. I’m not uncomfortable.”
He raises his eyebrows, anticipating whatever you’re going to say next. The strangeness of all this hits you hard, and you can’t help but laugh a little.
“What’s so funny?” He smiles, just barely, leaning in closer. Still allowing your hand on his arm.
“This. Us,” you emphasize. “I’ve just – oh, Obi-Wan. God. I feel the same. I have for a long time.”
His face goes blank with shock before blossoming into the most radiant shade of joy you’ve ever seen.
“You – really?”
“Yes, really –”
He sweeps you up into a hug, his arms gentle like he fears you’ll break. You squeeze him tighter, feeling some of the tension in your body ease as the realization finally hits – this isn’t all in your head. Somehow, miraculously, the feelings are mutual. Your friendship won’t die. There’s the possibility for more, and it’s right in front of you, right within reach.
And together, you grab it.
—------
The walk home from the Christmas market is a cold one. On the way back, you and Obi-Wan decide where you’ll be ordering your dinner from, and decide to indulge in one of your favorite nearby restaurants.
You sigh in relief as the familiar warmth of your apartment rushes over you, and Obi-Wan shuts the door behind him. Off go your boots, your hat, your gloves, your coat. He’s in the process of shedding out of his things as well, his cheeks and nose adorably flushed from the chill. You love how tousled his hair gets once he takes off a hat, and you can’t help but reach up and tousle it further, earning a grin.
“Want me to order?” Obi-Wan asks.
“Mm, please.”
You’re eager to get into some more comfortable clothes. He nods, walking into the kitchen for the drawer of takeout menus. Meanwhile you head for the bedroom, relieved to slide into some soft, warm pajamas.
As you return to the living room, you can hear Obi-Wan reciting your order by heart, and there’s something so comforting about that. He’s got both of his elbows planted on the kitchen counter, phone against his ear, nodding though the person on the other end of the line couldn’t possibly see it.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, catching himself. “Yes, that’ll be it. Thank you so much. And happy holidays to you as well.”
He hangs up the phone, sniffling thickly.
“Did the cold air get to you?”
It’s far from unusual for Obi-Wan’s nose to run after time spent out in the frigid chill of winter; your own nose is dripping a little, though it’s not nearly as bothersome as his can be. You bite your lip as he scrubs at his reddened nose with the back of his palm, his nostrils wet.
Though you have no idea how or why you enjoy seeing him all sniffly like this, you do know how affected you get by seeing him in such a state. This is an interest that’s been with you all your life, for as long as you’ve even been attracted to people in general. And with someone as handsome as your partner? It’s impossible not to feel heat curl in your belly whenever he’s piquing your interests, so to speak.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, crossing the distance to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s so annoying, isn’t it?”
“Mmhm.”
His small sound of agreement is followed by another thick, soupy sounding sniff, and then a groan. Obi-Wan’s nose wrinkles up in a familiar expression of distaste at his own sinuses, and you fight to keep the look on your own face neutral. There’s no need for him to know that he’s getting you all hot and bothered just because his nose is running. He already teases that it’s hard to drag you out of the bedroom on a normal day – what would he think if he knew about this?
“Ugh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Hold on. I’m going to try and clear this up.”
Taking a few steps away from you, Obi-Wan fishes in his pocket for a handkerchief. He faces away from you somewhat as he blows his nose, halting after the first or second attempt. Politely folding the dark blue handkerchief so you don’t see the mess, he blinks.
“Oh, goodness,” Obi-Wan says softly.
God, your heart is pounding.
Unaware of your reaction, he keeps going, blowing harder. You can hear how wet it is – are keenly aware of just how much his nose must have been running from being out in the cold so long – and he mutters another little astonished oh, dear before he’s finished. The next time he sniffs, it’s obvious that he’s done a lot of work to clear things out.
“Better?” You give him a smile that you hope is innocent.
“Oh, much.” He returns the look, setting the soiled handkerchief aside. “Thank you, dear.”
“You’re welcome.”
A beat of silence passes, and in it, it feels as if your pulse is attempting to push right through your skin. To force you to acknowledge how badly you want him right now. It’s not just your own particular interests that make your blood hot, though that certainly contributes. It’s Obi-Wan as a whole, every little thing about him. The way he looks at you. The way he teases you. The fact that you know exactly how it would feel to be pushed up against the counter and kisses until you can’t remember your own name.
You take a deep breath, and let it out.
“How long did they say for the food?”
“Oh, about thirty minutes or so,” Obi-Wan answers casually. “Why?”
It’s almost impossible to bite back a whine of need. Because I want you to do so many things to me in the span of half an hour that we’d have to pick and choose what we could get done. Because you look so fucking cute just standing there and you have no idea. Because if you don’t kiss me right now I might explode.
“I want you,” you manage, and his eyes light up.
“You do?” Obi-Wan’s tone is playful. “Then come here.”
Right there in the kitchen, he takes you up in his arms, something you’ve done dozens of times. Somehow it still manages to leave you breathless – is it the look of intent he’s giving you, his sheer proximity, or a combination of both? It doesn’t matter. The only thing you know is that Obi-Wan presses his mouth gently to yours, once and then again, chuckling a little into the touch as you demand more.
“Alright, alright –”
You grasp at handfuls of his sweater and lean him back against the countertop, making a desperate noise as he relents to what you want. In return, his hands glide up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever he goes. With your chest pressed against Obi-Wan’s, you can tell that his heart is thumping as fast as your own. And when your hips press deep into his…well. It’s no surprise that he’s hard against your core.
“Darling,” he gasps, pulling back for air. “At the rate this is going, we’re going to be quite disheveled when the food arrives.”
“Does that matter?” You blink up at him, head tilted, insinuating that you have no intention of stopping if he doesn’t. The flush of your face is hot, but nowhere near as warm as the body you’re entwined with.
“It does not.” Obi-Wan smirks. “But by the time the food arrives, you might not feel like eating anymore.” He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. “What brought this on?”
“It’s been a while –”
“Oh, twenty-four hours, you poor thing –” “Okay, so it hasn’t,” you say through laughter, quietly delighted that you can still tease one another like this. That your friendship has not only lasted, but grown stronger, blossoming after that Christmas confession into something enduring and real. “Can’t I just like kissing my boyfriend?”
His eyes crinkle up into that smile you adore.
“I suppose you can.” Obi-Wan rubs at his still-pink nose, almost as an afterthought. “Though you’re brave to do it, after watching me blow my nose for five straight minutes.”
A combination of panic and exhilaration shoots up your spine at the mention of what had caught your attention in the first place. Is this the time to bring up that you might-maybe-definitely have an affinity for that sort of thing? Or do you laugh it off and continue what you were doing? Shit.
Why not? You decide, feeling a streak of real courage. It’s just Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan, who has never once laughed at you, even when you’ve been in some outright foolish situations (three cocktails deep into an office party and stumbling home on his arm). Obi-Wan, who teared up the first time he told you he loved you, holding both of your hands in both of his while you were watching When Harry Met Sally five months ago. Obi-Wan, who brings you flowers once a month without fail.
This man would not mock you. You trust him not to.
“I kind of…liked it,” you say, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time.
His expression doesn’t change much.
“Liked – liked what?”
Your confidence begins to waver, but you hold your breath for a beat and press on.
“You using the – the handkerchief? That’s something I’ve always been into, but I’ve never known how to bring it up.”
Understanding lights into his eyes, and thank goodness you were right about him not laughing. You might’ve died of humiliation right on the spot, your heart broken in the process. Instead Obi-Wan places a hand on your cheek with a soft smile, and you lean into the comforting sensation, relief so strong in your chest that it aches.
“Sweetheart,” he purrs. “You know you can tell me anything. Especially if it pertains to interests you might have.” A light chuckle. “And besides, I’m certain you know all of mine.”
“I do?” you raise an eyebrow, playing coy. You know exactly what he’s talking about.
“You do,” Obi-Wan replies, taking the opportunity to trail his hands up and down your body once more. “Though I’m starting to sound tame.”
“Hey!”
You frown, pretending to pout at him, and Obi-Wan only grins wider.
“I’m only teasing. Did you want to keep going, or…?”
“Of course –”
The fact that he’d accepted your secret so readily only makes you more eager to keep kissing him, and Obi-Wan presses his mouth back to yours with a hungry groan. In only seconds it feels as though you never stopped, and you tangle your hands in his hair with thoughtless passion. Obi-Wan loves the way it feels when you gently pull and tug at the roots of his hair, and you do it now to get better access to his throat, letting your lips ramble away from the kiss to trail down his jaw.
“Sweetheart, God,” he breathes, going pliant for you against the sturdy hold of the kitchen counter.
Humming in answer, you kiss the line of his neck, drinking in his gasp when you find the sensitive place behind his ear. Obi-Wan whines when you suck his earlobe between your teeth, and before you know it, his mouth is placed back to yours. He moves you so fast that you don’t have time to register what’s happening, and then you’re the one pressed against the counter, being lifted until you’re sitting on the polished surface.
“Oh –!”
You have time to squeal out before he’s kissing you again, more intense, growling out a noise of approval as your legs tangle around his waist. The only thought your mind can form, the only coherent urge, is that you need to be closer to him.
“Obi-Wan,” you say, barely a whisper in the quiet of your apartment.
“What is it, love?” His honey-toned question is followed up by a sniffle, and Obi-Wan pulls away to rub quickly at his nose. Another deep rush of arousal goes through your body, leaving your chest tight.
“Are you doing that on purpose.”
“No!” he laughs, the tips of his ears going red with a blush. “No, I wouldn’t toy with you, I just – I really do have to blow again, I’m sorry –”
Like you’re going to object. Again, Obi-Wan steps away from you, pulling his handkerchief loose from his pants pocket. As if he’s extra aware of the attention you’re giving him, he doesn’t meet your eyes as he turns and clears the last of the bothersome congestion, turning back to you looking sheepish.
“Can we… take this into the bedroom?”
You don’t think you can take standing here in the kitchen much longer. Sitting there with your legs crossed on the counter, you feel like you’re about to burst. Reading the look on your face, Obi-Wan only nods, offering you his hand to help you down. You take it, landing smoothly, practically jogging to get to your shared room.
The door is barely open before he’s pulling you in again, moaning a sound of relief into your neck as the two of you stumble inside. Obi-Wan’s fingers are at the edges of your sweater, and you don’t hesitate – you keep still and allow him to pull it up and over your head. Your thin t-shirt is far less of a barrier, and it isn’t long before that, too, is gone, leaving you standing in just your bra and jeans.
“Look at you,” he whispers. “I can’t wait to have you.”
“You don’t have to wait.”
Boldly, you rut against him, feeling the press of his body through your pants. Obi-Wan’s hands tighten on your body, and you go to unbutton his zip.
A sharp knock on the front door startles you so badly that you jump, your fingers skipping off of the metal of his zipper, and Obi-Wan places a calming hand on your shoulder.
“We do, though,” he says with a laugh. “Did you forget about the takeout, darling?”
You swallow, more than a little mortified, and say nothing as you bend to fetch your t-shirt from the floor. You had. You actually had forgotten all about ordering dinner in the thirty minutes it had taken the two of you to get into this state. In all the fuss of finally confessing your interests and getting lost in kisses, food was the last thing on your mind.
“Do you still feel like eating?” he asks over his shoulder, walking to answer the door.
A quick check-in with your stomach says yes.
As Obi-Wan pays the delivery person and takes your dinner, you settle sheepishly at the kitchen table, with Obi-Wan grinning at you over the takeout boxes.
“Don’t worry,” he says, spearing his first bite. “We have plenty of time for whatever you want to get up to after.”
“Is that a promise?” you smile a little.
“Oh, it’s a guarantee.”