Pressing the cup into Obi-Wan’s hands, Anakin sunk down on the couch beside the Jedi, watching the fascinated expression on the others face as Obi-Wan sniffed at the content of the cup. Then he took a slow sip, eyes closing with clear pleasure as the tea flowed over his tongue.

Well, it seemed this was indeed high quality tea as Anakin was promised by the vendors, so he wouldn’t have to hunt them down and give them a lesson on not to cheat Darth Vader.

With the assurance that the tea was good, he held up an arm and smiled, actually smiled when Obi-Wan instantly slid in under it and settled against him, slowly sipping as he tucked his feet up on the couch too.

Bare toes wiggled against one of the throw pillows.

‘I can never get over that he actually likes going around barefoot.’ Anakin grimaced to himself, slowly teasing the tattoos visible through the gossamer sleeves of Obi-Wan’s shirt. “You know… Fisto has a point.” He murmured quietly, removing his eyes from the others feet to his eyes instead.

Obi-Wan blinked up at him, pausing before shrugging as he realized what Anakin was on about. “You’d find me if I left. I know there’s trackers in not only my collar but also in the tattoo runes, yes?” He quirked a brow at Anakin, his clever little Jedi.

Grasping one of Obi-Wan’s hands, teasing the slender wrist while inwardly grimacing at the sight of scars on the wrist from the prolonged binder use, Anakin shrugged. “Yes but you could still try running, and keep running. You’re smart enough to do it and powerful enough.” He pointed out steadily, peering at his little Jedi.

Taking another sip, clearly trying to delay for time to think, Obi-Wan stared into his cup before sighing. “Because I don’t want to.” He finally admitted.

Stroking the others wrist slowly, Anakin mutely prodded him on as he rubbed his thumb over the inside of his wrist.

His pulse was rising a bit.

Obi-Wan was nervous and therefore he was mute and buying himself time by drinking tea, glancing between Anakin and the coral and glass caff table stationed in front of his expensive bantha leather couch.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin prodded, feeling his temper rise along with his impatience as Obi-Wan seemed to struggle.

“I like it here,” Obi-Wan finally stated, biting at his lower lip, causing it to swell and redden. “I like it at your side. You keep me safe, you keep me feed, you pet my hair and you spoil me. I shouldn’t,” Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, clearly fighting against the ideals he had been raised with and his own desires and wants. “But I don’t want to leave you, even though its dangerous for me here in the Sith temple and at the same time I know that if anything happens, you’d be there.” He whispered.

His face was red with shame, his freckles ticking out heavily.

Anakin couldn’t stop staring at his Jedi, the Jedi he indeed put a claim on, the Jedi wearing Darth Vader’s symbol at the end of his braid on the golden pendant, tattooed with Vader’s claim on his arm.

Obi-Wan was right, the tattoo would make it easy for Vader to find him, hunt him, never let him go.

But that wasn’t why Obi-Wan was staying.

Obi-Wan was staying for Anakin.

Not because he had to.

Maybe it was stockholm, hell, Anakin was pretty sure it was part of it, Obi-Wan had been conditioned after all in some ways but he was still defiant at times, still the Jedi that had been brought to be Vader’s pet.

And yet… that wasn’t really what Obi-Wan was, was it now?

“…Anakin,” He rasped out suddenly, Obi-Wan looking up at him in surprise, blinking at him as Anakin’s flesh hand came up to cup his face, stroking his cheek and feeling the stubble under. “My name… its Anakin.”

Obi-Wan eyes widened a bit. “…Anakin?” He stated, murmuring it more to himself than anything, as if he was testing the name.

Anakin could feel something in his chest expand as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Obi-Wan’s, breathing out heavily. “Yes, to you, to you alone when we’re in peace, I’m Anakin.” He whispered quietly, shuddering as Obi-Wan continued to murmur his name softly in the space between them.