Archive: M/A. But if anyone else would like it, please ask.
Category: Very mild angst, Point of View
Rating: PG
Series: #2 in The Rubaiyat of Obi-Wan Kenobi series, following
Poet Laureate, not that it's required to have read (or remember
<g>) any of it.
Summary: Breakfast. The world in a pot of honey.
Feedback: Yes, please.
And thank you, elyn, for doing the beta for me. <g>
The windowless room lit itself slowly, emulating dawn. Qui-Gon
stirred as the light penetrated his awareness, turning and
flopping onto his back, praying for just one hour of sleep.
His time-sense told him that he didn't have another hour; he
needed to get up if he was to meet with Master Hui'ta this
morning to confirm Obi-Wan's schedule for his competency exams.
If they were lucky, Obi-Wan could take the literature exams
before they were sent off-planet again.
And Qui-Gon really, really wanted that one done.
He knocked on Obi-Wan's door as he passed it on his way to the
shower; he'd knock on it again on his way back. Since he'd
taken Obi-Wan for his Padawan, every morning on Coruscant began
like this; Obi-Wan's own time-sense was still developing.
Eurythmy classes helped stabilize it while they were at the
temple, but every trip off-planet threw him off again and left
Qui-Gon to pound on the door to wake him up.
He smiled as he heard Obi-Wan stir and a muffled voice call
out, "I'm up. I'm up."
Qui-Gon shook his head. That's why he'd be knocking on
Obi-Wan's door in another half-hour, and maybe even an hour
after that. But such was the way of boys his age; they required
almost as much sleep as a child. At least once Obi-Wan reached
his full height the need for sleep would stabilize into a more
adult pattern.
Which would hopefully be soon, he thought. Obi-Wan hadn't
really started his final growth spurt until he turned
seventeen, a long time after most of his human friends. At
least now he was even with most of them, and taller than some,
though he would never reach Qui-Gon's height.
Showered and refreshed, Qui-Gon pounded on Obi-Wan's door as he
passed, then went to his own room to dress. He emerged to find
his Padawan pulling on his tunic, and he padded into the
kitchen area, put two blue-glazed bowls on the counter, and
poured dried redberries and toasted sedras nuts into each. As
Obi-Wan stood sleepily watching, Qui-Gon dug into the chilled
storage for fresh fruit and milk.
In passing, Qui-Gon noticed that the sleeves on Obi-Wan's robes
were a little short, and the cuffs somewhat frayed. He'd have
to look into getting some new robes made for him soon. He
picked up a box of rolled Speloui grain and the pitcher of
milk, setting them on the table while Obi-Wan brought the
bowls. At least it had been a while since that had happened.
Maybe the boy had finally gotten his full growth.
Obi-Wan noticed the attention Qui-Gon gave his robes and
blushed slightly as he pulled them down over his wrists.
"Laundry day," he muttered as he sat down.
The tea water heated quickly, with a little help from the
Force, and Qui-Gon set the pot on the table for them both,
alongside the large Teskan waterfruit that sat waiting to be
carved. Still yawning, Obi-Wan added grain, water, and milk to
his bowl.
His robe pulled across his shoulders as he set the pot down,
and Qui-Gon frowned. It was caught somewhere in the back. He'd
have to take it off and re-layer the tunics so that his
movement wouldn't be impaired. Standing, he untied his sash and
straightened out the inner robes, momentarily startled by how
chill the room felt against his bare skin.
As he tugged at his tunic, he felt an odd fluctuation in the
Force and the sound of shattering glass. Startled, Qui-Gon
looked over to see golden syrup dripping off Obi-Wan's nose and
the remnants of the clay pot in Obi-Wan's hand.
"Ow." Obi-Wan, meanwhile, looked like he'd been kicked by a
bantha. "That's not what I meant to do," he muttered aloud and
set the rest of the shattered pot on the table.
Blood dripped down Obi-Wan's hand. Qui-Gon noticed it at the
same time Obi-Wan did. "Don't move," he said as he stood to go
get the first aid kit.
Obi-Wan grabbed for a napkin to wrap around his hand and
knocked over the milk and his bowl, covering himself and his
robes in what was to have been his breakfast. Stunned, he sat
there a moment, completely flummoxed, his mouth agape.
Even though he knew Obi-Wan was embarrassed, Qui-Gon couldn't
help it: he laughed.
Instantly, Obi-Wan shot him a look that clearly said, "Die, my
Master. Roll over and just die."
Qui-Gon forced himself to shut up. "How is your hand? Do I need
the kit?" he asked carefully.
"It's fine, thank you." Obi-Wan glared at him once more, then
looked at the mess, his robes, and back to Qui-Gon, then back
at the mess again, his mouth twitching into a smile, and
finally he burst out laughing himself. "Oh, no." He wiped the
honey off his face with the end of his sleeve. "That was my
last set of clean robes, too. I'm sorry, Master."
Feeling sorry for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon said, "I'll take them to the
laundry and pick them up on my way back from the meeting with
Master Hui'ta. You can work on your lessons until I come back."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan spun and padded toward his room, calling
over his shoulder. "Would you mind if I added a few things? I
was going to go to the laundry today..."
Chuckling at his apprentice's behavior, Qui-Gon called back,
"Add them on, if you wish. But I won't take everything for you.
If it hasn't been laundered in a month, you get to take it in
later."
In a few moments, Obi-Wan came out of his room shirtless,
wearing a tight old pair of pants that were holed at one knee
and stained from re-painting his room months ago. He smiled
sheepishly at Qui-Gon. "It's all I had." The nearly overflowing
basket he carried was filled with uniforms, sheets, and several
towels, far more than Qui-Gon had thought he'd agreed to carry.
Qui-Gon shook his head and unfolded his arms to take the
basket; Obi-Wan pushed the letter of the law as far as it would
go. Rather like his Master, he thought ruefully. Their hands
brushed as Qui-Gon took the basket, sending a shiver of energy
up his spine. He jerked upright and stared at Obi-wan, their
gazes momentarily locking.
In that instant, Qui-Gon noticed that he no longer had to look
so far down. Not to child height anymore, or even teen.
Obi-Wan's height was that of a man.
Disturbed, he looked down at the basket he carried and made
another uncomfortable discovery: the sheets were stained with
the remnants of sex.
How long had Obi-Wan been active, he wondered. How long had he
himself been unaware of the transformation that had occurred?
He had thought to shield and protect the boy, but now he
wondered who he had really tried to protect.
The veil he'd worn was torn away from his eyes, and Qui-Gon was
left with a total sexual awareness of the man before him and
the hum of his own body in response.
"Master...?"
Covering his momentary lapse, Qui-Gon asked the first safe
question that popped into his mind. "What was that surge in the
Force before the pot broke?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was trying to use the Force to lift it. I
guess my concentration slipped."
"You didn't do this just to get me to do your laundry, did
you?" Qui-Gon tried for the easy tone that they'd had earlier,
but somehow he couldn't quite manage it. He glanced at Obi-Wan
and quickly away, trying not to stare at his Padawan's
nearly-naked body, speaking before he thought. "Because you
were embarrassed taking them in, because of their, uhm,
condition?"
"Oh, no, Master." Obi-Wan smiled slightly, his eyes wide, his
tone earnest and sincere. "As you have said on numerous
occasions, sex is a normal part of everyday life."
Qui-Gon felt himself blushing as Obi-Wan's smile grew bold,
getting back at him for having laughed earlier. Was Obi-Wan
flirting with him? Or was he reading more into this
conversation than he should, because of his new-found
awareness?
"I wouldn't go to the effort just for that," Obi-Wan said as he
rubbed his fingers together as if noticing how sticky they
were, then licked them slowly, sucking the honey off. "I'd want
something better than clean clothes for smearing myself with
honey."
Qui-Gon could not stop staring as each finger went into his
Padawan's mouth to be sucked clean. Did Obi-Wan know what he
was doing? Was this deliberate, or just his imagination? He
almost groaned aloud.
Couldn't be. Obi-Wan had never flirted with him before. It was
only the feeling that the world was off-kilter that made their
normal banter seem so sexually charged. Once Qui-Gon had a
chance to meditate and adjust, it would all fall into place. He
just needed time.
Obi-Wan looked up at him curiously from under his lashes,
freezing as he saw Qui-Gon staring at him, slowly pulling his
fingers out of his mouth and wiping them on his pants. "Sorry,
Master. They were sticky."
Qui-Gon swallowed, his mouth dry at the images that spun
through his mind. Maybe a lot of time would be required. "Then
maybe...you should bathe while I'm gone."
Again, the wrong thing to say. It conjured up images of Obi-Wan
under the water, his hair damp, body glistening. He had to stop
this, take control of the moment. As long as he had thought of
Obi-Wan as almost a child, he had been able to keep himself
from imagining such things, but right now, when he was so aware
of Obi-Wan as a man...
He stepped back from the easy intimacy they'd shared this
morning, putting them back on the proper Master-Padawan footing
once again. "I think you had best do some concentration
exercises in addition to your poetry lessons, so that this sort
of accident won't happen again."
At his words, the light in Obi-Wan's eyes faded, and the
teasing note left his voice. "Yes, Master. I understand." He
bowed his acceptance, gracefully turned, and walked toward the
shower.
Qui-Gon felt bereft, as if the sun had been covered by clouds.
He was left standing alone in a room with a basket of dirty
laundry and his chaotic thoughts.
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