Summary: Someone ends up covered in messy white stuff.
Feedback: Well, sure. Otherwise, I'd just sit around and read
this to myself.
Disclaimer: I didn't do it. And even if I did, I didn't make a
dime.
"Relief," Obi-Wan thought desperately, arching his back and
grinding his shoulders frantically into the blankets on his
bed. "I have to have some relief, or I'm going to go
crazy." He raised his right arm, but Qui-Gon, sitting
down on the side of the bed, caught Obi-Wan's hand and gently
placed his arm back at his side.
Qui-Gon crooned in a low, soothing voice, "Patience, Padawan.
Patience." He bent to place a soft kiss on the sweat-dampened
hair above Obi-Wan's brow.
"Please, Master. I can't stand it any longer. Do
something." Obi-Wan reached up with his right hand again.
Qui-Gon spoke a little more sharply. "Don't, Obi-Wan." Then, in
a softer, more cajoling tone, "Roll over onto your stomach, my
Padawan. Arms above your head." Obi-Wan reluctantly complied, a
small whimper escaping as he did so. Qui-Gon stroked his hair.
"Be calm, be still, my heart. Let me do this for you." Obi-Wan
nodded against the pillow under his cheek and turned his head
away.
Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's weight shifting on the mattress,
as the bigger man reached over to the nightstand by the bed.
Obi-Wan groaned softly. He could hear the small sounds his
Master made as he opened the twist top of a bottle. Obi-Wan
sighed and wriggled against the bed linens, hoping for a little
temporary respite from his torment.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon said warningly. Obi-Wan immediately stilled.
More small sounds followed, and Obi-Wan suddenly felt a cool
liquid touch on his body. He shivered and moaned and pressed
his face into the pillow beneath him, grabbing the headboard of
the bed. Qui-Gon chuckled softly.
"Does that feel good, my heart? Shall I continue?"
Obi-Wan lifted his head from the pillow and turned his face
toward his Master, a dark look in his storm-colored eyes.
"Stop, and I swear I'll hurt you, my Master. And wipe that damn
smirk off your face. Whatever happened to your vaunted Jedi
compassion?"
Qui-Gon laughed out loud and poured more calamine lotion onto
the cotton square in his hand, applying the lotion liberally to
the raised welts on Obi-Wan's back. "I am sorry, Padawan, but,
really...chicken pox! And at your age."
Obi-Wan huffed indignantly, turning his face away again, as
Qui-Gon, shaking his head in amusement, continued to daub the
chalky white liquid all over his Padawan's back.
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