Spoilers: For once, yes! For JA Book #3. Those what don't got
it . . . Well, hell! What are ya waitin' for? Haul ass out to a
book store and snare the thing!
Archive: Master & Apprentice, yes; anywhere else,
absolutely, just please leave the name attached.
Rating: I have no idea.
Warnings: No sex in this one, just a wild sugar rush that
demanded out. Blame the Hershey Company for any ensuing chaos
and incoherence.
Summary: Obi-Wan gets sick and Qui-Gon tells him a story or
three to pass the time to entertain a Padawan who is rather out
of sorts and crotchety.
Disclaimer: Get back, you vultures! (said to Lucasfilm
Lawyers) I freely admit that Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Yoda, and any
other known Star Wars characters are the God-King's (George
Lucas) property! I also admit that I'm making no money off of
this, so you wouldn't get anything outta me anyway, you damned
leeches! Ha-ha! Being the model of maturity and restraint that
I am, allow me to express this concept as clearly as I am able
to: (ahem) "Neener, neener."
Feedback: Mother Mary on a motorcycle - YES! (sheepish grin)
Sorry, just a trifle wound up here. Send it here:
SilvarBelle@msn.com All flames will be used to torch tonight's
dinner. We're having snake. All together now: PROTEIN!
Yum! (stomps off muttering: "Teach that damned thing to raid
the duck eggs!")
"You look bad, Obi-Wan."
The reply given dropped the temperature of the room to
somewhere around Hoth-winter level. "Thank you, Master."
Qui-Gon advanced toward the bed in the Infirmary where his
Padawan had been set away from other patients in the room after
contracting the Seradian flu. His rather cranky apprentice
looked quite different from his normal beautiful self. His skin
was a light purple, of all colors, with bright green dots
further decorating it. His features were puffy as well, his
hair lank and dull, his eyes bloodshot. The simmering glower
adorning his face wasn't doing anything to help, either.
Obi-Wan sighed as he watched his master approach, carrying a
tray loaded down with soup and protein drinks, as well as some
light bread. Qui-Gon also had a book under his arm. His
forehead smoothing out, Obi-Wan said tiredly, "I'm sorry, my
Master. I seem to be a tad cranky of late."
Amusement lit the dark blue eyes and colored his voice when
Qui-Gon replied calmly, "Yes, Padawan, I had noticed it, just a
tad. However, I believe it's understandable, since you are a
highly active, normal young man, and now find yourself
restricted to complete bed rest, even though you do not feel
nauseated or weak in the slightest."
Obi-Wan nodded. His master had summed up everything he was
frustrated over quite neatly.
"Trust me, and the Healers, my Padawan. You do have a
fever, you are ill - as if your current appearance
couldn't tell anyone that - and you are far weaker than you
believe. So do me a favor and just lie there and get better,
alright? I promise, once you're better, I'll put you through a
grilling the likes of which you haven't had since you were
fourteen." A small smile was playing around Qui-Gon's mouth.
Obi-Wan felt a matching one stretching the corners of his. "I'm
actually looking forward to that, Master." Sighing, he slowly
shifted and sat up, then glanced at the tray and the book. "So,
what've you brought, Master?"
Qui-Gon set the tray down on Obi-Wan's lap and said, "I brought
us something relatively simple for lunch. I'd rather not have
it come back to visit either one of us, so I sincerely hope
even this light fare won't aggravate your digestive system. And
I also brought you a book to read from, since I know you're
bored."
"Have I ever mentioned you have a dramatic flair for
understatement, Master?"
"Have I ever mentioned that you can get really bitchy when
you're ill, Padawan?"
The new purple tone of Obi-Wan's skin darkened a shade or two
as he flushed from irritation and embarrassment at the mild
chiding.
"My, my, your green spots really light up nice when you're
frustrated, my Padawan," Qui-Gon teased.
Obi-Wan gave his beloved master the Glare of Death and
muttered, "You just wait until I'm out of this bed, and
I'll show you spots."
Qui-Gon lowered the timbre of his voice a few notches and
reached out to lightly stroke one of Obi-Wan's legs as he said
quietly, "Yes, love; there are a few spots of yours I'm
quite interested in seeing to."
Blue-gray eyes flashed hotly and the younger man squirmed, then
remembered he had a tray with hot liquid balanced on his lap
and stilled. Picking up a bowl of soup, he handed it to his
master, who graciously thanked him, then took one for himself.
Tentatively, he began to eat, then settled into it when,
happily, the food decided to stay put.
Satisfied, Qui-Gon ate his own meal as well.
Moments later, when they were done and the tray was moved
aside, Qui-Gon pulled out the book. He glanced at Obi-Wan.
"It's about Introspection of the Mind: Meditation for the
Soul."
Obi-Wan grimaced. "I thought you were going to try to entertain
me, Master."
"Ah, and this doesn't? If not, then what are you in the mood
for, my Padawan?"
"There's a hole with no bottom," Obi-Wan leered at him
as best he could, then chuckled. He thought for a moment, then
drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and laying his
chin on his knees, staring wistfully at his master. "If you
don't mind, I'd like to hear about some of your favorite times
with me ever since you decided to accept me as Padawan."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at his beloved. "Really? And why
would you want to know that, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan's gaze lowered as he said softly, "I guess so that I
can know that I wasn't quite such a burden to bear."
Qui-Gon reached out and cupped Obi-Wan's chin, lifting the
younger man's gaze to his. The dark blue eyes were full of love
and understanding as he said softly, "You have never been a
burden to me, my Obi-Wan. I have known, ever since I did so,
that accepting you into my life was the greatest - and smartest
- thing I have ever done."
Obi-Wan's eyes shone briefly as he reached up to hold Qui-Gon's
large, work-roughened hand against his cheek, their gazes
locked as a deep, abiding love pulsed between them.
Then Qui-Gon sat back with a smile and said, "Ah, yes, let's
see. I believe one of my favorite times was when you decided
that you were advanced enough to take the top spires of the
jungle gym course barely six months into your training as my
Padawan."
Obi-Wan flushed, but grinned, as he, too, remembered that time
. . .
Qui-Gon looked up and up at the dangling form of his
thirteen-year-old Padawan, who was hanging by an iron bar by
his knees on the top levels of the jungle gym course, set aside
for more experienced apprentices. "Padawan, just what do you
think you're doing?"
Obi-Wan gave him a sheepish grin, shrugged his shoulders as he
hung upside down, and said questioningly, "Practicing to be a
bat in someone's belfry, my Master?"
Qui-Gon sighed, firmly squelching the urge to laugh, and
replied, "I suspect you have plenty of bats in your own belfry
already, Padawan. I also suspect that you still owe me a
truthful answer."
Obi-Wan sighed resignedly. "It was worth a shot," he grumbled
to himself. Then he locked gazes with his adored and revered
master once more and said, "I was attempting to perform the top
level jungle gym exercises, my Master." Please, please,
please don't let him ask any further than that!
"I see. How far did you get, Padawan?"
"You can see for yourself, Master. I reached the halfway point
before I lost my focus and slipped." Would have gotten
farther this time if you hadn't startled me like that, too.
"Yes, I can see that, and I commend you on your reflexes of
catching that bar with your knees the way you did to break your
fall, seeing as how it is a long way down with nothing else
below you except the ground," Qui-Gon approved. Then his gaze
sharpened and he asked, "In fact, I'm impressed that you are at
the halfway point at all, for someone who has never done this
before."
Don't squirm, don't wiggle, don't blush, don't anything,
total Sabacc face, Obi-Wan told himself firmly. "Thank you,
Master."
"Is there anything else you would like to add, Padawan?"
"No, Master." Ain't that the truth.
"Allow me to rephrase my question: Is there anything else you
should be telling me?"
Damn!
"Hey, Qui-Gon. What's going on?"
Saved!
Qui-Gon did not turn to greet the newcomer who stepped to his
side, simply continued looking up at Obi-Wan as he said,
"Hello, Mace. Only thing going on is that my Padawan was in the
middle of telling me how he came to be hanging from the halfway
point of the top level."
Mace Windu, yearmate and Qui-Gon's best friend at the Temple,
tilted his head back to observe a chagrined Padawan dangling
from a bar by his knees. "Ah! Greetings, Padawan Kenobi.
Halfway point; that's very good for someone your age." He
turned a grin to his friend. "You must have great confidence in
his abilities if you have already begun training him to aspire
to those heights."
Qui-Gon slanted a quelling look at his friend and said, "It is
not so much my confidence in him, my friend, as his own
confidence. I have never assigned Obi-Wan to train that high
up, have I, Padawan?"
"No, Master," Obi-Wan replied, his head starting to pound from
the blood rushing into his head.
"No one else has assigned you to do this, have they?"
"No, Master."
"Have you done this before, Obi-Wan?"
Figures, Obi-Wan grumbled to himself. "Yes, Master."
"I see. How many times?"
"Counting this one, it is my twenty-third attempt, Master."
Mace's eyebrows climbed high. "Twenty-third? At your age, and
you're at the halfway point? Not too shabby, Padawan Kenobi."
Obi-Wan managed a small grin. "Thank you, Master Windu."
"Mace," Qui-Gon sighed, trying desperately to tamp down on his
irritation and fear for his Padawan's reckless behavior,
"you're not helping."
"Oh, come now, Qui-Gon. He'll get enough of a grilling from
you. I do agree it was reckless, but you have to admit that
he's actually done fairly well for someone his age. Truth, I
thought you were the one who put the idea into his head, since
you tried a similar stunt when we were his age."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and refrained from decking his friend
where he stood.
Obi-Wan's eyes widened in surprise. And he's going to grill
me about it?!
Mace grinned, sensing a prime opportunity for a little grilling
of his own. Tilting his head back again, he called up, "Did you
know, Obi-Wan, that your Master did the same thing when he was
your age? Took him a lot longer than you because of those great
gomping legs of his, too, and Master Yoda had no sympathy for
him, either."
Qui-Gon glared at his friend and then called up himself. "This
does not excuse you, Obi-Wan, for behaving so recklessly. I was
wrong to do so when I tried it, it is wrong of you to do it
now."
"If I may ask, Master?" Obi-Wan replied, his voice slightly
strained.
Qui-Gon nodded.
"Why, my Master?"
"Because, Padawan, there are more experienced katas required at
the end of that level than you have yet learned, or will learn
for some time yet. Had you actually progressed using only what
you know, you would have become seriously injured. As it is,
you are quite lucky in the fact that you possess reflexes
enough to have caught yourself the way you did. Have I made
myself clear?" Qui-Gon hoped his Padawan could hear the
firmness of his tone in his explanation and question, as well
as the underlying order for him to not attempt this exercise
again. He was quite attached to his Obi-Wan, and becoming more
fond of him as their training bond grew. The last thing he
wanted was for Obi-Wan to be hurt, even if he could understand
why the boy had felt the need to try.
"Yes, my Master," Obi-Wan replied dejectedly. "I just . . .
wanted to try."
"You have tried enough," Qui-Gon stated. Then reluctantly
admitted, "And done very well, for as far as you have gotten.
Mace was correct: It did take me longer to get as far as
you have."
Mace smirked as Obi-Wan flushed with pride.
"Now, come down from there, Padawan."
"I would dearly love to obey you, Master, but my knees seem to
have locked from remaining here so long," the boy replied with
just the slightest trace of impertinence.
Qui-Gon sighed again and shook his head, hiding a smile. "Very
well, Padawan." Turning to Mace, he gave his friend a
questioning glance.
The dark-skinned, handsome Master flashed an affirmative grin
at his friend and went to stand beneath Obi-Wan's position,
then bent, bracing himself.
The taller Jedi Master took a running start, then leaped, Mace
catching him with cupped hands and propelling him up into the
air with Force-enhanced strength.
Obi-Wan gaped as his master came sailing up and easily grabbed
the bar he was hanging from, glancing down at him with
amusement in his dark blue eyes. "Wrap your arms around my
shoulders, Padawan," he was instructed.
The boy did as he was told and a moment later he winced as he
felt large, graceful, gentle hands carefully prying his legs
out of their bent and locked position, allowing him to swing
free and hold onto his master. Once his legs were free, Qui-Gon
waited until he was certain the boy was gripping him tightly,
then dropped, using the Force to cushion their landing.
Obi-Wan winced at the pounding in his head and tried to climb
down from his master.
Qui-Gon held his Padawan and said, "Stay still, Obi-Wan. Your
knees won't support you right now. Wait a few minutes, and then
I'll help you walk around to straighten them out. Then we shall
wait for your headache to go away before we begin meditations
on patience."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, resigned to hours of boredom.
Mace grinned at them and then said, "I'll be going now. But,
Obi-Wan, count yourself lucky. Like I said, Master Yoda had no
sympathy for him when he caught your Master. He made Qui-Gon
climb down on his own, then carry him on his back on a jog
around the Temple, up and down five flights of stairs."
Obi-Wan cringed and gazed in awe at his master. He couldn't
even carry himself right now, and yet his master had
carried Yoda up and down stairs while running? Clearly,
his master was a man of great strength and perseverance.
Qui-Gon glanced at Mace, who winked at him over Obi-Wan's head,
then turned and left the training room. He looked down at his
Padawan and said, "Ready to try standing, Padawan?"
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon smiled at his love as he remembered as well. "I really
was proud of you, love, even if you'd scared me with your
recklessness."
Obi-Wan grinned at him. "As I recall, Qui-Gon, there was a fair
amount of frustration there, too."
"True, but not all of it was at you. Some of it was for Mace,
for shooting his mouth off like that and ruining my attempts to
be the stern and stoic, infallible Jedi Master."
Obi-Wan snickered. "Oh, like that could ever happen."
Qui-Gon quirked a wry grin at him. "Thank you, my Obi-Wan."
"You're welcome, my Qui-Gon."
The Jedi Master gave his beloved a soft smile, then said,
"Hmmm. What else was there? There are so many wonderful times
with you to choose from. Ah-ha! I have it. How about the first
time you tried Alderaanian Fire Whiskey?"
Obi-Wan grimaced as he recalled it. "And ended up sick as a
dog."
"True, but I really liked some of your responses. The best was
when I suggested that you go take a cold shower after I found
you leaning against the wall outside our rooms before going to
bed. Without missing a beat, you replied, 'I have a better
idea, Master: why not get down on all fours and throw up for a
while?' And then you proceeded to do exactly that." Qui-Gon
snickered as he remembered some of his Padawan's rather
inebriated comments. He started laughing harder as he added,
"You are really quite creative, love. Th-the comment you . . .
made about the . . . Zardinian Ambassador . . ." He stopped for
a moment to draw breath, then continued. "Calling him a . . .
bug-eyed, womp-ratted . . . sloth-sired . . . nasty-assed
ambulatory piece of Bantha dung . . . hahahahaha!!!"
Obi-Wan was torn between hilarity and embarrassment, and ended
up hiding his grinning face in his arms, controlling his
snickers. After a few moments, when Qui-Gon managed to contain
his laughter, he heard his beloved ask, "What got you so riled
up about him, anyway?"
The younger man lifted his head to pierce his lover and master
with a glare as he said, "Besides the fact that he was a
bug-eyed, womp-ratted, sloth-sired, nasty-assed ambulatory
piece of Bantha dung?"
Qui-Gon grinned, his blue eyes shining. "Yes, besides that."
The apprentice stared at him for a moment longer, then glanced
away and muttered, "He wanted my help in setting up an
assignation so he could attempt to seduce you."
Qui-Gon's jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, sheer surprise
and incredulity on his handsome features, and Obi-Wan decided
that his past irritation and painful certainty that Qui-Gon
would never be his were well worth it to be able to put that
expression on his lover's face. He started to grin and then
frowned deeply when Qui-Gon got a thoughtful look on his face,
staring at the wall as he muttered, "Hmmm . . . A Zardinian? I
wonder what it might've been like to be propositioned by -"
Obi-Wan flung his pillow at the older man hard enough so that
by catching Qui-Gon off-guard as he did, he succeeded in
knocking the tall Jedi out of his chair and onto the floor.
Irritated in the extreme, the younger man was not about to just
stay there while his master contemplated Zardinian sex
fantasies. He flung back the covers and set his feet on the
floor, stomping away in a huff.
Well, he actually huffed for all of two feet, then found
himself unceremoniously scooped up and tossed over a broad
shoulder. He squirmed as he stared at the floor from where he
draped down his master's back - involuntarily admiring that
muscular backside that was just below his face - and demanded,
"Dammit, put me down!"
He shivered at the brief, stinging smack he received to his own
hindquarters, and then heard Qui-Gon rumble, "As you wish,
love." And with that, he found himself slung dizzyingly back
into his hospice bed, a calm-looking Qui-Gon tucking the covers
about him again.
Obi-Wan fumed silently, glowering at his master, and then
closed his eyes, turning his face away when Qui-Gon's eyes met
his and he saw the amusement lurking in the deep blue depths.
"If you're going to tease me like this, I'd appreciate it if
you'd just leave me alone. Master," he growled petulantly.
Qui-Gon hid his amusement from his young lover. Obi-Wan was
clearly out of sorts and did not deserve to be teased like this
when he really couldn't do anything about it. So, instead, he
did the next best thing and told his Padawan with all honesty,
"As much as I find your display of jealousy amazingly
satisfying-"
"I am not jealous!"
"-You have nothing to fear, my Obi-Wan. Zardinians do not hold
any interest for me in that sort of way."
Obi-Wan continued to glance away. "If it's all the same to you,
I'd rather not hear about what does interest you."
'Jealous,' my nerf-herder, you two-timing old . . .
"Really? Because I have more stories to tell about a certain
bluish-gray-eyed imp of a Padawan I know who stole my heart
some time ago," Qui-Gon replied softly, reaching out to take
Obi-Wan's hands in his own, lovingly stroking the purple,
polka-dotted skin with his fingers.
Bloodshot blue-gray eyes filled with tears as they gazed upon
the man Obi-Wan loved with every fiber of his being. "Oh,
Master . . ."
Qui-Gon smiled at his young love and then settled back down in
his chair, which was noticeably closer to the bed. "Would you
like to hear about the first time I realized how much I love
you, my Obi-Wan?"
The younger man was suddenly diffident and glanced down at
their joined hands. "As your Padawan, or as your lover?" he
asked quietly.
"Both, if you like."
Obi-Wan nodded silently.
Sitting back, lost in thought, in wonderful, beautiful
memories, Qui-Gon said, "It was not long after I finally
accepted you as my apprentice. Point of fact, it was that
side-trip to Phindar that really pointed it out to me. Do you
remember that, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan gave a small grin. "How could I not, my Master? Getting
hijacked by Paxxi Derida to go help his brother, my friend
Guerra, in removing the Syndicat from their world. Never mind
the fact that they were interfering with our mission to Gala .
. ."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Never mind the fact that you came
very close to losing everything that made you who you are . .
."
The Padawan gazed at his master, surprised just a bit that
those old fears still had a tiny grip on Qui-Gon, even now.
The Master nodded, sensing Obi-Wan's thoughts. "Yes, love. When
Guerra returned from the warehouse to tell us that you'd gone
to the Syndicat, I was terrified, as close to hysterical as I
had ever come in years. I wanted to mount a rescue right at
that very minute, but I listened to my inner voice as well as
the Deridas, all of whom told me it would be a bad idea. And
when I believed your memory to have been wiped, when I was told
that you had been 'renewed,' my heart broke. It was then I
realized how much I had come to care for you, to love you as my
Padawan, for in order for you to break my heart, you would have
to be inside it." He reached up and gently brushed away the
tear that rolled slowly down Obi-Wan's cheek. "And the joy that
came to me when I realized that you were whole and intact . . .
Oh, Padawan, it nearly drove me to my knees, the sheer elation
that you had been returned to me. And I barely knew you at that
point, as my friend and student."
Obi-Wan blinked back more tears, and then he gave his beloved
master a tremulous smile. "And when you knew that you loved me
as - as a man . . .?"
Qui-Gon's grin turned rather wolfish, his blue eyes taking on a
wicked gleam. His voice turned to silk and warm honey as he
began talking about his startling, yet not entirely unpleasant
discovery.
("Not entirely unpleasant discovery, Master?" "Be
reasonable, Padawan; I never expected to find myself salivating
over my own apprentice. You know full well that such
attractions are frowned upon by the Council. We're just damned
lucky that they happen to like us." "They do? I mean, yes, my
Master . . .")
Qui-Gon stood in a small practice hall with a dozen other
Masters and a few Knights, watching the Padawans who were
attached to said Masters compete in an informal wrestling
competition. His own apprentice, Obi-Wan, was one of the
leading champions, much to his delight and surprise, as the
younger man had shown a continual inability to best his master
over the years.
Then again, none of his opponents today have been built
anything like me. Obi-Wan has better odds against these
opponents, the Master thought to himself.
As he watched, Obi-Wan and another young man were grappling
together on a mat, both combatants wore their breeches rolled
up to their knees and that was it. Strong, young muscles
strained and gleamed as hard, dexterous limbs struggled for
handholds and purchase with which to pin down their respective
opponent.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan, a young man of sixteen, managed to
wrap his arms around his slightly taller opponent, pick him up,
then drop him onto the floor facedown. Before the green-haired
boy could move quickly enough, Obi-Wan pounced, straddling the
other boy's hips and ribs while pulling the arms back and
gripping them tightly in one hand, pressing the other hand down
hard on the boy's neck, immobilizing him.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon felt as though he couldn't breathe as he took
notice of the dominant position Obi-Wan was in, the way his
muscles bunched and tightened as he held the other boy down
submissively. Breathing shallowly, rapidly, he watched,
mesmerized, as Obi-Wan leaned down to whisper something in the
boy's ear. The green-haired boy nodded and Obi-Wan sat back up
slowly, his graceful, well-toned body uncoiling languidly,
causing Qui-Gon's breath to catch softly. Just as slowly,
Obi-Wan released the boy and stood. His apprentice helped the
other boy to stand, then gave in to the cheers and clapping and
raised his arms victoriously over his head, stretching his
lean, muscular torso. A slow smile spread across his beautiful
face, his sensuous mouth open and laughing, his blue-gray eyes
gleaming as he tipped his head back, his Padawan braid trailing
down his chest, and Qui-Gon realized with a start that he
wanted to follow that braid's path with his mouth.
Qui-Gon schooled his features into a pleased expression, for he
was indeed pleased with Obi-Wan's victory. He nodded at the
boy, giving him a slight smile when his apprentice glanced his
way, and watched with an odd mixture of desire and satisfaction
when Obi-Wan flushed with smug pleasure at having gained his
master's approval. Then the boy turned away to bow to his
opponent and Qui-Gon was faced with his Padawan's firm, shapely
ass, the muscles flexing hypnotically beneath sweat-dampened
breeches.
The rest of the match was somewhat of a blank in his memory.
It wasn't until later, when the Master and Apprentice team were
in their quarters and Obi-Wan was asleep in his room that
Qui-Gon sat up, meditating, trying to come to grips with this
suddenly intense, shameful desire for his Padawan.
("Shameful?!" "Obi-Wan, we've been over this. The
Council-" "Didn't know, and so had jack-shit to say about it at
that point. That was entirely your own reaction
at the moment, Master." "True, and I found it incredibly
disturbing - shameful, even - that a man my age was lusting
after his sixteen-year-old apprentice. Now do you want to hear
the rest of this, or not?" "Yes, Master." "Thought so. Anyway .
. .")
Qui-Gon meditated half the night, examining his intense
reaction to his Padawan. By the time he reached the
conclusion that he had fallen in love with his attractive,
intelligent, witty, humorous, beautiful, cunning, brave,
lovely, agile, virile, clever, handsome, loyal, pranksterish,
slightly sarcastic Padawan, he feared he'd never be able to
follow up on it. This was entirely due to joints that felt as
though they'd frozen and locked into a meditation pose that was
not meant to be endured for seven hours straight.
("Seven hours??" "Something troubles you, Padawan, with
that fact?" "Seven hours to come to grips with the fact that
you really liked to look at me and that you loved me?"
"Correction; seven hours to come to grips with the fact that I
really adore looking at you and that I love you,
even more so now. Why? How long did it take for you to realize
your feelings for me?" "That's another story. Keep on with this
one." "Yes, Padawan.")
Qui-Gon finally managed to unfold his body and haul himself,
creaking, to his feet. He stretched carefully, wincing at each
crack and pop, and then lumbered off into his bedroom. He
stripped out of his clothes, tossing the sweat-stained, rumpled
tunics and breeches into the laundry hamper to be taken care of
later that day, and then climbed into bed, settling wearily
into the comfortable mattress. His last thought before his
brain rebelled and drop-kicked him into a deep sleep was that
he loved his Obi-Wan.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Obi-Wan gazed incredulously at his master. "So, that's it? You
realized that you had fallen in love with me, and decided to
just endure for two more years?"
Qui-Gon smiled. "That sums it up nicely, Padawan."
The younger man hissed a profanity that would've done a veteran
Corellian pilot proud and then said, "How in all pig snerv did
you manage to just endure it?"
"Force only knows, my love. Looking back on it, I have no way
of being able to tell, exactly. I suppose I just took it one
day at a time, living in the moment, as I always do. There was
no use in borrowing trouble," Qui-Gon replied.
"That's because trouble always borrows you first," Obi-Wan
mumbled, but he was smiling as he said it. Then his gaze
hardened into that sly, cunning look Qui-Gon knew so well that
meant his beloved had latched onto an idea that was probably
going to fluster him a bit. "However, that answer is entirely
too easy and generic. I know you, my Master. There had to be an
ulterior motive to it."
That shot one eyebrow up almost to his hairline. "Excuse me?"
Qui-Gon said, his tone laden with innocence.
"No. Out with it, Qui-Gon!" the younger man said, a barely
contained smug grin twitching his lips as he leaned back. "What
kept you from acting on your love for me until I turned
eighteen? And don't use that age thing as an excuse, because if
you want to get technical, we made love for the first time
while I was still seventeen, and being three and a half hours
away from my actual birthday does not count."
Qui-Gon leaned forward and poked a finger into the finely
muscled chest he loved so well, his blue eyes glinting. "Very
well, Padawan. The reason I did not act on it was because I
refused to do anything that would jeopardize your chance at
becoming a Knight."
Obi-Wan frowned. "It wouldn't have jeopardized-"
"No? Just as you know me, my Obi-Wan, I know you as well. If I
had acted on what I felt for you even then, I would have had my
robe-wearing butt tossed out of the Jedi Order faster than you
can scream Sith. And you, my stubborn, beautiful one,
would have been right behind me, and I knew it. Your loyalty
can sometimes be strong to a fault, young one." Having made his
point, Qui-Gon sat back and waited quietly for Obi-Wan's
reaction.
The younger man was silent for a long while as he processed all
this, examining what his master had said and determining the
truth of it. When he finally spoke, Qui-Gon smiled at the
chosen topic.
"You left 'stubborn' out when you were cataloging me, you
know," the younger man said quietly, not quite grinning.
"True, and I did. How it slipped past me, I don't know. I must
be getting old."
Obi-Wan leaned over and whapped his pillow down onto Qui-Gon's
head, rather than just flinging it. Then he yelped as Qui-Gon
caught it and yanked him over the edge of the bed and down into
the older man's lap, strong arms wrapping around him to hold
him safely against a broad chest. He looked up into blue eyes
that mirrored the soul dearest to him in all the galaxy as
Qui-Gon stood and settled them both onto the bed.
"My love . . . my Obi-Wan . . . I have indeed loved you for a
long, long time. First as my brother-in-arms, then as my
student, and then as my friend. And when I finally loved you as
a man, my soul finally felt complete. And that feeling has only
continued to grow stronger," Qui-Gon murmured, stroking soft,
short hair that bristled slightly, though it was in dire need
of a washing. He gazed down at features that, even though they
were purple and splotched with green dots, were very, very
beloved to him. "Never doubt, my dearest one, that you have
always, every day since I accepted you as my own, been a
constant source of pride and pleasure to me. Every day I have
been glad that you have been in my care, pleased with your
progress, and grateful that you are a student to be proud of,
and that you are mine. Never doubt that there has never
been a day in which I have not been thankful that you are part
of my life, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes shut against hot tears and turned his
head slightly, burying his face against his master's broad
chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around his beloved and
simply drifted in the love he sensed coming from Qui-Gon, and
returned it with the same strength.
Qui-Gon simply held the younger man to him, stroking and
petting him, murmuring soothingly to the youth in his arms that
constantly amazed him with his love for an aging Master.
Suddenly, he yelped and squirmed as nimble fingers slipped
between the two bodies and pinched sensitive skin on his side.
He frowned slightly at the blue-gray eyes that peeped up at
him, glimmering with traces of tears. "And just what was that
for, Padawan?"
"For thinking what you just thought. There are many, many
attributes to love about you, my Qui-Gon, and your age is only
one of them. And if you even try to suggest that you're
anywhere near 'old,' then I'm-"
"-Purple as an Alderaanian Sea-monkey, and will continue to
remain that way unless you get some rest, my beloved," Qui-Gon
teased, laughing softly when Obi-Wan gaped slightly at him.
With a grin, he extricated himself from his discolored,
splotchy Padawan and helped him to lay back down. He leaned
over, brushing back softly bristly hair, and said, "It is time
for you to rest now, love. I've kept you awake far long enough.
I'll come back tomorrow to see how you're doing, and if you're
up to it, then you may tell me how long it took for you to
realize you fell in love with your-" He took note of the
warning glint in Obi-Wan's eyes. "-experienced Master."
Obi-Wan smiled up at him, and was still smiling even after
Qui-Gon subtly used a Force suggestion to send his Padawan into
a healing sleep.
Then, gathering up the discarded book and the lunch tray, the
tall Jedi Master walked out of the Med Bay, once again thanking
the Force for giving him his Obi-Wan.
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