Work Text:
Sometimes, Anakin likes to look at Obi-Wan’s hands.
He likes to look at Obi-Wan’s long, strong fingers, the way they flex when he’s restraining himself from telling someone what he really thinks about the mess they’ve left him. He likes their gentle, natural curl when relaxed, each finger at a slightly different angle. Obi-Wan’s fingernails are always kept short and neat.
He likes the calluses on Obi-Wan’s fingers, each one a representation of the painstaking hard work that Obi-Wan performs each day. They’re warrior’s hands, despite the fact that Obi-Wan is more famed for the skill of his mouth—his hands are plenty skilled too. Obi-Wan spends countless hours perfecting Soresu, to defend himself from any threats, and that reflects in his hands. There are calluses on the inside of each finger, where his weapon rests and rubs when he swings it. He’s been building those calluses since he was a child.
Anakin likes to look at Obi-Wan’s hands, and he wonders what they would feel like. He knows, in a vague sense, what those hands feel like to touch. He’s been pulled up after being knocked down by one of those rough hands more times than he cares to count, and he has felt them on his face, checking over the scar he’s earned when it was still fresh. He’s felt them on his shoulders, over his clothes. But he wonders what they would feel like underneath. If Obi-Wan were to drag his hands palm-down over Anakin from his chest to his hips, how would those calluses feel? Would they catch on the scars Anakin’s gained throughout the war?
Would Obi-Wan find the tactile sensation just as pleasing as Anakin thinks he would?
Anakin likes to look at Obi-Wan’s hands. He watches him swing a ‘saber, and he wants.