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Drink to me only with thine eyes

Summary:

Cody hates Anakin Skywalker. Maybe. No matter what Rex says.

Notes:

Okay, listen. I wrote most of this while seriously hungover. Please bear that in mind and excuse any spelling/grammar/tense errors.

Kids, don't drink to excess. Or if you must, do it with good beer, not that Coors crap.

EDIT: realized after I posted (am I still slightly out of it? Maybe. You don't see aaaaaanything😭) that it fulfills a prompt I got. So, for this prompt from the lovely Svar: "Hi I have another one zjakznjx perhaps codakin and 🥺👉👈? (Is it a word,,,,,mebbe)"

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Cody hated Anakin Skywalker.

Maybe hate was a strong term. But for someone who was ostensibly designed for the Jedi he certainly had less respect for this one than Nala Se probably intended.

The man was just so insufferable. And distracting. And irresponsible.

For instance, he was currently using his Jetii powers to levitate Hardcase up to the hangar bay ceiling to retrieve a stray balloon. A balloon. Cody didn’t even know where they got a balloon but knowing Torrent there could be any number of explanations. Regardless, was it really necessary for the general to lift a trooper up there, hooting and hollering all the way, when he could easily bring the object down to the deck himself? No. No it was not, and displays like this were precisely why Cody occasionally had to write up Torrent shinies for decorum and discipline violations. Cody was just so tired and he was tired of dealing with this and tired of dealing with the instigator who outranked him and couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be-. No. They were three days in to a campaign in Hutt space, he couldn’t afford to be distracted like this. He paused in the hatchway and sighed audibly.

“Do you want to break that up, sir, or is it my turn?” Waxer chuckled next to him.

If his bucket was off Cody would have pinched the bridge of his nose; he could feel a headache coming on. He observed Skywalker for a moment. The General was watching Hardcase’s antics, piercing blue eyes upturned and chestnut curls shaking with his laughter. The rest of Torrent was gathered nearby, grinning and laughing at the both of them. Cody sighed again. “I’ve got it.”

“If you say so, sir.” Cody turned to find Waxer’s bucket tilted in quiet amusement.

“I said I’ve got it.” He snapped. “Go find General Kenobi and let him know the 501st and their general need something to occupy their time.”

“Yes, sir!” Waxer jogged away quickly but couldn’t manage to completely muffle his snickers. Cody’s eyes narrowed as he watched what looked suspiciously like a strategic retreat and made a note to have a talk with Waxer (and his partner in crime, Boil) at some point in the future.

In the meantime, there remained the issue of General Skywalker.


Anakin loved Commander Cody.

Maybe love was a strong term. But it certainly made his childish infatuation with Padmé pale in comparison. (His mother nipped that in the bud as soon as she found out - “Really dear,” she said, “You don’t even know her. Yes, she’s beautiful but do you have anything in common?”)

The Commander, however. He’s a whole other story. Anakin still remembered the first strategy meeting (”Briefings, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. “They’re called ‘briefings’ in the military.”) he ever sat in on. He was late (as usual) getting back from his mother’s apartment on Coruscant, so by the time he walked into the Negotiator’s Ready Room Obi-Wan was almost done with his portion of the briefing. And then their brand new commander stepped forward. He was quietly confident and assertive, his low voice somehow commanding rapt attention and respect from everyone with seemingly no effort at all. Anakin had only recently been knighted but he stood frozen with his mouth open like a shiny padawan and let his eyes drink in the sight.

But the Commander didn’t seem to register Anakin at all. No matter how often he got stationed with the 212th (“Looks like we’re working together again, Marshal Commander!” “…It certainly seems so, sir.”) or how many repairs or upgrades he performed on the equipment (“Sir, why did you send the third-shift armorers back to their bunks?” “I just wanted some space to try something out, Commander, and look, I’ve upped blaster output by 7% just by tweaking the modulator here.” “…”), or how many times he saved their shebs on the battlefield (“Whew! Guess that was pretty close, huh, Commander?…Commander? Obi-Wan, what did I say?”), the Commander always treated him with perfectly polite indifference. It was beyond frustrating, but Anakin couldn’t help but follow the stoic yet captivating man around like a puppy dog every time they were in the same airspace, thinking look at me look at me please look at me.

“I think it worked, sir,” Rex said with a chuckle as he noticed something by the hatch and shook his head.

“What did?” Anakin asked, still watching Hardcase try to grab the balloon. He looked down just in time to see Rex roll his eyes, but his indignant huff abruptly caught in his throat as he glimpsed the familiar orange and white armor heading their way.

He might have accidentally lost his grip on Hardcase at that point.


Oh fuck, Cody thought as Hardcase yelped and plummeted towards the deck. He started forward, but before he could do much more than let out a gasp General Skywalker managed to right himself and gently bring Hardcase back down to solid decking.

“That was awesome, sir!” Hardcase grinned delightedly and presented the shiny red balloon to his general. “I got your souvenir for you!”

Skywalker laughed. “So you did, Hardcase. Excellent work.” He grabbed the balloon from Hardcase and turned his wide smile toward Cody, who as always was infuriatingly tongue-tied. How was he supposed to be business-like when the General was holding a red monstrosity of a balloon and grinning at him like a little cadet? With those ridiculous cheekbones that the servers at 79s always gushed about?

Rex was smirking. Cody could see it out of the corner of his visor and it took serious, practiced restraint to keep from knocking him upside the head like they were both back on Kamino.

“Hi, Commander,” the General said, breathless from laughing. “Am I late for another briefing?”

“…no, sir.” He cleared his throat. “However, if your men are feeling restless, we do have a few transports that could do with a scrubbing-down.”

“Oh, uh,” Rex started. Cody smirked under his bucket but left his eyes on the general.

“I think they can find something to occupy themselves with,” the general shared a look with Rex that Cody couldn’t exactly parse. “But we do need to be at that briefing soon. Shall we go together?” He started to head toward the hatch.

“Actually, sir,” Rex interrupted. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with the Commander.”

Skywalker tilted his head. “Alright, I’ll wait by the door then.” He handed the balloon to Jesse, who looked nonplussed at being gifted a floating fire hazard, and headed toward the hatch.

It wouldn’t have mattered, since vod-to-vod conversations were usually held on a private channel with handsign interspersed, but Cody felt his breathing ease up as the man walked away.

Rex watched Cody watch Skywalker and shoved his bucket over his head. “You’re an idiot,” he said over the comm.

You’re the idiot,” Cody snapped. “I don’t care what you do on your ship, but don’t let your men pull stupid stunts on mine.”

“I didn’t mean for that, although I’d love to see you tell General Skywalker he can’t do something,” Rex started, then paused. “Actually, I would love to see you tell him not to do something. Or to do something. Can you please get off your shebs and make a move already?” He paused. “Also, when was the last time you slept?”

Cody stiffened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’m perfectly well-rested, thanks.” The way he said thanks sounded a lot more like fuck you.

“Banthashit,” Rex said, and added in handsign for good measure. “You’re an idiot.” Someone off to the side choked. “You both are.”

Cody responded with a universal handsign. “Sit on it and spin, Rex’ika.” More choked laughter from the sidelines, and Cody was suddenly uncomfortably aware that he and his vod were the center of attention. Time to go.

“Don’t say that to me, say it to him,” Rex shot back as Cody walked off.

“Get your men busy doing something productive and leave me alone.” Cody ignored the grumble that order induced and turned his attention to the general, who was watching him approach with questions in his eyes.

“Everything okay, Commander?” he asked tentatively, looking back at Rex.

Cody switched his vocoder back on. “Yes, sir. Little brothers. You know how it is.” He started to walk down the hall towards the elevator.

“I…don’t, actually,” Skywalker said shyly as he followed Cody. “I’m the youngest of my lineage.”

Cody stopped short and faced the general, cocking his head in interest. “You’re the youngest?”

“I…yes? I mean, Obi-Wan is next youngest but he basically raised me so…uh, yeah I’m the youngest I guess. I mean. Obviously. I would be, I’m the last padawan Qui-Gon ever requested, so-” He stopped abruptly. “Why?”

Cody allowed himself a small huff of amusement and shook his head. “That explains so much,” he said as he pressed the button for the elevator.


“What do you mean?” Anakin asked. This was the first time Cody had ever spoken to him about personal matters. He felt an excited flutter in his chest. Or maybe his stomach. Oh Force he hoped he wasn’t going to puke.

Cody took off his helmet as they entered the elevator. Anakin was almost distracted by those warm chocolate eyes until he noticed Cody’s unimpressed expression, all pursed lips and raised eyebrow. “Frankly, sir? You’re a little shit.”

Anakin couldn’t do more than gape in shock, and Cody’s eyes widened as he seemed to register what he’d just said. “I mean, in a little brother kind of way, sir. Uh. Not. Not. Uh.” He blushed deeply. Some part of Anakin’s subconscious noted that the flush went all the way down his neck and wondered how much farther until it stopped.

He was still gaping when Cody recovered himself, facing forward and staring intently at the elevator doors as he said (still blushing furiously), “Sir. I apologize for my breach of conduct. It has been a stressful campaign.”

Anakin knew he should drop it. He knew that. But he’d never actually been any good at following the instructions of his frontal lobe, especially when conversing with a crush. “You think of me as a little brother?” He asked in a small voice.

“What?! NO.” Cody turned back to him, wide-eyed. “No. Sir.” He held Anakin’s gaze for a moment, both of them blushing anew and Anakin’s heart thundering in his chest. He doesn’t think of me as a brother. He thinks of me? Oh Force his eyes are so pretty. I can’t breathe.

With a careful breath, Cody spoke. “General Skywalker. It has been over 40 hours since I last slept. Again, I apologize. And I respectfully request that we…forget about my lack of decorum and unwise speech. I will excuse myself after this briefing to grab some recovery time in my rack.”


Cody was having a minor mental breakdown. Dammit Rex. That little rat bastard took advantage of his exhaustion to make him let his guard down and now look. Look what happened. He’s offended a superior officer and-

The general bit his lip in consideration and Cody was immediately distracted from his racing thoughts, eyes zeroing in on the general’s plush lower lip. “Well…alright, Commander. I didn’t mean to…offend you. I hope you do take some time to rest when you can.”

Cody swallowed and raised his chin. “Thank you, sir. I will.”

Cody thanked the little gods that the elevator finally arrived at the bridge, although he regretted it a moment later when General Kenobi looked up from the holo he was studying and frowned. “Everything alright, Commander? Anakin? You two look…flushed.”

Waxer, that traitor, very obviously choked down a guffaw. Cody glared and made another mental note to kill him as Skywalker responded, “No, no. All good. The…elevator’s temperature regulator is on the fritz I think. I’ll take a look at it later.”

Nice save, Cody couldn’t help but think, although Kenobi looked doubtful, eyeing both him and his former padawan before stroking his beard. “Well. I don’t know that you’re going to have much free time for that anytime soon, Anakin. Come take a look at these-”

Twenty minutes into the briefing, Cody felt a familiar heat on his face. General Skywalker’s stares were something that Cody was, unfortunately, used to. But now Cody had the urge to stare back and couldn’t seem to get cool despite having his bucket off and oh fuck what did General Kenobi just ask me, get it together Codes, war doesn’t stop just because you want to stare at someone’s pretty eyes, ohfuckohfuck-.

Cody hated Anakin Skywalker. Maybe. No matter what Rex said.

Notes:

I am a sucker for poetry, especially love poems, so this is where I got the title:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44464/song-to-celia-drink-to-me-only-with-thine-eyes

Thank you for reading!

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