tarotgal

Title: Peace is Always Beautiful
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Star Wars (pre-TPM)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon
Disclaimer: Not my characters, world, franchise, etc. I make no money from this!
Summary: Obi-Wan is sick with a cold. Qui-Gon wants to help him but can’t do much. There’s a lot of touching and snuggling and sneezing.

Author Notes: I believe this fic was started in 2004. I finished it up after receiving a donation to do so in my fundraising page for the Walk to End HIV. The title is a Walt Whitman quotation.

/ Q \

Qui-Gon entered his bedroom as quietly as possible. The whole of their quarters were dark as though empty. But they were far from that. Qui-Gon needed to use the Force to navigate around the furniture so as not to make noise by crashing into a misplaced chair or tripping over clothes strewn about the floor. He pressed a finger to the wall pad just inside the doorway to the bedroom and the lights slowly grew to a dim, fuzzy glow. In the bed, a forehead and short-haired top of head could just be made out; the rest of the body was covered with blankets. Obi-Wan was fast asleep, giving snuffled sorts of snores that were muffled by the covers. Qui-Gon shrugged out of his dripping wet robe and hung it on the hook beside the door then moved slowly across the room.

He inched the covers down just a bit to allow more fresh air to get to his padawan. Obi-Wan slept on his side, curled nearly in a ball. One hand lay limply, palm-up, beside his head on the pillow. He had his favorite royal blue blanket clutched to his chest and had buried the lower half of his face in it, allowing it to brush against his chin, lips, and cheek. The rest of the blanket was wrapped around him, separate from the rest of the covers, as though he’d had it around him first and hadn’t bothered taking it off before climbing into bed. “Poor thing,” Qui-Gon whispered, smoothing out the blankets then running his hand tenderly over his padawan’s short, soft hair.

He stood beside the bed for a while like this, petting, and getting used to the sounds and rhythm of Obi-Wan’s congested breathing. Feeling useless and unable to help, he finally decided he should head to the kitchen find something to eat and catch up on his work. He crossed the room silently, without his rain-soaked robe to weigh him down this time, and pushed the pad by the door to turn the lights back down. He paused a moment, debating whether to shut the door or not. But before he could make up his mind, he heard a rustling from the bed and turned.

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open briefly, just long enough to focus on his master, then quickly shut again. “You’re hobe,” he breathed with some relief and smiled.

“I am,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice soft, smooth, and just above a whisper. “And you finally fell asleep, I see. Good for you.” Since this had begun, Obi-Wan had been trying to get just a bit of rest. But he was either too restless or too sneezey, and for a while both at the same time. But it looked like he’d finally had a bit of sleep at least. Qui-Gon knew he would need more if he were ever going to start feeling better. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? I’ll just be out in the common area reading if you need me.” He turned back around to leave, but from the bed behind him he heard coughing. Loud and harsh. Qui-Gon turned on his heels and went back to the bed. His voice was no longer soft, but strong and worried. “When did you start coughing?” He put his hand to the young man’s forehead but could neither feel nor sense any fever.

Obi-Wan pushed himself up on an elbow to breathe a bit better. “It’s just frub the cogestiod.” He said, clearing his throat. “The cold’s still just id by…” He paused to lift his hand and swipe at his nose with a wet sniffle. “Id by dose. Dod’t worry ‘bout be.”

A box of tissues sat on the headboard, and Qui-Gon pulled several out. “Did I sound worried?” he asked, settling down on the edge of the bed. He pressed the tissues to Obi-Wan’s nose, and the young man blew gently though he was so very congested that it made little difference a moment after.

“You…” Obi-Wan coughed and cleared his throat. Then he took a deep breath in and out. “You always soud worried whed I’b sick.”

Qui-Gon nodded and smiled. He wiped Obi-Wan’s nose clean with the Force-padded gentleness needed to keep from hurting Obi-Wan’s red nostrils. “I suppose that’s so. But you sound stuffed-up,” Qui-Gon said softly, giving Obi-Wan’s head another comforting stroke. “It’s difficult to watch you feeling sick and uncomfortable when there’s nothing I can do.”

“You do a lot,” replied Obi-Wan, closing his eyes. It seemed for a moment that he might drift off to sleep again, comforted by his master’s presence. But his brow furrowed and his face tensed, eyes shutting more tightly, eyebrows raising, jaw dropping. Qui-Gon readied another handful of tissues and held them close to Obi-Wan’s face, but not touching. “ehhh… eh-PIFChhhhh! EHPFTschhhh!” He rubbed his face into the tissues, snuffling with congestion. Qui-Gon sensed another sneeze on the way, confirmed by how Obi-Wan’s face screwed up except for his jaw, which remained dropped, and eyes, which opened though they were slightly teary. “ehhhh-eh-hehhh…” Frustrated that it was taking its time, he rubbed his nose deeper into the handful of tissues. “ehhhh… ihhh…” Suddenly he tensed, and pulled back, looking up for a brief moment. “Hah-” His eyes shut and he fell forward, face back in the tissues. “ehhhPFFTChhhhh! Ahh…” He blew his nose and relaxed again. This was more like it had been all day. Constant sniffling and sneezing without the possibility of rest.

“I’m going to get you some more tissues,” Qui-Gon declared, peering into the box. “And some tea, would you like some tea?” Obi-Wan nodded weakly, hugging the covers to his chest. Qui-Gon bent and placed a kiss on his padawan’s forehead. “All right, then. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You sit tight.” He forced a few clean tissues into Obi-Wan’s hand and tucked the blankets around him.

/ O \

Obi-Wan watched as his master walked across their quarters. Lights sprang to life as Qui-Gon passed them, hand raised, palm facing the lamps or switches. Obi-Wan could see their quarters grow brighter as lights came on, one after the other. First the side table lamp by the sofa, then the overhead light in the main area, then the light which overlooked the table, and finally the light over the stove which buzzed when it was on, though Obi-Wan could not hear that well from the bedroom. He could hear the soft rush of water from the tap and the clink of the kettle as it hit the burner. And he might have been able to hear Qui-Gon setting the massive jar of tea leaves onto the counter had it not been for another sneeze which struck at precisely the same time.

“ehhhhIHHChhhh!” Obi-Wan had had no thought to the tissues right in his hand. He had been sneezing all day, and apart from the few hours alone after Qui-Gon had left, he had had Qui-Gon to tend to his nose for him. In those few hours when he’d been alone, there had been no one to see him sneeze and no reason to cover his nose. Frankly, he was too tired to bother doing anything he didn’t need to do. The nap had been helpful, yes, but far too short. Yet there was little chance of getting back to sleep any time soon with the sneezes coming as strong and as fast as they were. “ehhhKTChhhhhh! hehhIHHShhhhh!” They shook his whole body, making him cling to the blankets for support, though they had little to offer in the way of stability as most had become untucked at the foot of the bed if they ever even had been tucked in the first place. His body shook as he took in a raspy breath, “huhh…” and seized up tightly as the tickle lingered with him a moment longer just before the sneeze struck, “ehhhHShphffftttt!” He found his nose unexpectedly pressed into a fresh wad of tissues. Obi-Wan needed a moment to center himself, but no time at all to figure out what had happened. His eyes still tightly closed, he said, muffled into the tissues, “Thag you Qui.”

The Jedi Master smiled and shook his head. Obi-Wan saw neither, but sensed both. “No need to waste your energy on thank you’s. Just give me a few good blows and we’ll call it even.”

“Hardly a fair trade,” Obi-Wan said, muffled into the tissues. But he took a deep breath, which caused him to cough a little. He took another breath and quickly blew his nose into the tissues, feeling Qui-Gon gently pinching his nose through them to help him out. After two large blows, Obi-Wan drew breath for a third.

“Wait,” Qui-Gon commanded softly, taking them away by way of wiping Obi-Wan’s nose. Qui-Gon pulled the last two tissues out of the box on Obi-Wan’s bed and cupped them gently to his padawan’s nose. “There, all ready now.” Obi-Wan blew again, another few times. It seemed to get easier to blow for a while, then harder again. He gave up somewhere after number five or six, his whole body slumping back weakly into the pillows and blankets. “Better?” Qui-Gon asked, giving his nose a gentle rub, though it still hurt a little to Obi-Wan, who winced.

Obi-Wan had little energy with which to shake his head. “Dot really,” he admitted. “Blowig by dose does’t seeb to helb adybore. I’b just so stuffed ub.” Quickly, he opened his eyes, looking up as Qui-Gon sat down on the edge of their bed. “Ub, but I do abbreciate it.” He didn’t want Qui-Gon to feel useless and leave him alone. His master might not be able to do much for him, but Obi-Wan simply felt better with him around.

Qui-Gon set a fresh, just-opened box of tissues on the headboard and took the empty one down. He spent a few minutes picking used tissues up from the covers and stuffing them into the empty box as he let the tea cool a little. Then he set the box aside to toss into the trash later. “Ready for some tea?” Qui-Gon asked.

Nodding, Obi-Wan tried to gather the energy to both extricate himself from the nest of blankets and sit up. But he found Qui-Gon’s hand on his shoulder, holding him down before he was an inch off the bed. “No, Padawan. Don’t push yourself. Let me help you.” He set the tea aside carefully then pulled Obi-Wan up and out from beneath the covers. He carefully pulled the blue blanket to Obi-Wan’s chest, tightening it as it wrapped around the young man warmly. He leaned Obi-Wan back against a stack of pillows he’d raised, so Obi-Wan was sitting just enough to be able to drink. Then he took the cup back, blew on the surface, and handed it over again.

The sick padawan accepted it with both hands, shivering as he realized how warm it was and how very warm he wasn’t in comparison. He blew into it as well, and cautiously took a sip, then a bigger sip. He froze as he considered the tea for a moment, cup still pressed to his lips. “Is something wrong?” asked Qui-Gon concernedly. “It’s not too hot still, is it?” He took the cup back and took a sip for himself, finding it warm but certainly not hot. There was a gentle mix of sugar and honey in the strong, fruity tea. Sweet, just as his padawan liked it. He handed it back so Obi-Wan could at least have its warmth.

“Dot the teberature,” Obi-Wan explained. He took another sip and paused after it in contemplation before swallowing. “It’s just that I cad’t taste it at all. It’s wet add warb. I dod’t taste ady tea.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon sighed with sympathy, for his padawan had been through two cups of tea just that morning and had thoroughly enjoyed them then for all aspects including taste. “Your nose is truly stuffed. I’m so sorry.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Dot, sniff! Dot your fault. Sniff, Sniff! I’b sure the tea tastes great.”

Qui-Gon collected a few more tissues, holding them up in offering. “Here, you’re sniffling a lot. And I know you say it doesn’t help much, but why don’t you—”

“Doe,” Obi-Wan refused with a shake of his head. He lowered the cup of tea. “Dod’t wadt to blow by dose because I’b…” His voice wavered on the edge for a moment. “I’b godda…” He let out a deep, shaky breath. One of Qui-Gon’s hand wrapped around his on his cup to keep it from spilling. The other pressed the tissues gently to the bottom of Obi-Wan’s nose. Though the sneezes had already started building, Obi-Wan was determined to finish. “Godda sdee…eeze!” he managed on a high note. Then the young padawan gave a few heaving breaths that puffed up his chest and made him tilt backwards a bit. “heh-ehhh-” He warned his master by forcing the breaths with a bit of vocalization. The corners of his mouth turned down in a frown, and Qui-Gon held the tissues more tightly in place. “EHKgshuffff! Heychfffff!”

Obi-Wan froze for a moment after the sneezes, which had thrown him forward so that his shoulders were hunched and his head bowed. Qui-Gon had sensed his movements and followed his nose with the tissues precisely. Obi-Wan gave a soft cough from his congestion and tried sniffing again. But his nose was too stuffed to let a bit of air through and he coughed again. He felt a gentle nudge through the Force from his master, and he quickly took a deep breath and, resignedly, blew his nose. It was a disheartening sound, and he winced even with his eyes already closed so as not to have to see his master’s worried look. Qui-Gon brought fresh tissues for more, and Obi-Wan obeyed and blew, though little good came of it.

He pulled away from the tissues, knowing full well how terrible he sounded. With his free hand he swiped at his nose in annoyance. Then he felt his master’s hand slip off his, and he took a few sips of the now cooling but still utterly tasteless tea. “Awful cold.” Obi-Wan turned a little onto his side, still resting against the mass of soft pillows and retreating into them partially to hide himself.

But Obi-Wan smiled through his misery as he noticed how his master had squeezed himself onto the bed. One leg hung over the side, resting on the floor to support him, lest he fall off. The rest of him was on the bed, but just barely. He had not wanted to make Obi-Wan scoot over to one side or the other, and instead took what space he could on the side. But, noticing this, Obi-Wan did scoot over a little. At least, he moved enough to let Qui-Gon sit on the bed, both long legs stretched out in front of him. Then Obi-Wan came back, snuggling into his Master’s chest. He still clutched the mug of tea, taking small sips, but now he sat against his master who was strong, warm, comforting. He could feel his master’s heartbeat against his arm. He could feel soft breaths against his face. He could feel the arm wrap around him and cuddle him closer, blanket and all. The steam from the tea was soothing, though it was dying away. And he clung to his master instead of the blankets, finding what he needed there. Enjoying the feeling of being taken care of, Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

/ O \

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open and his head snapped up as he realized he had nodded off for a few moments. “What—” he started, desperately, finding that he no longer held the cup. And instead of his arms sticking out of the blanket, the whole blanket was wrapped around him to keep all the warmth inside.

“Hush, love,” Qui-Gon whispered, and kissed the top of the fuzzy head. “You fell asleep for just a few minutes only. I didn’t want you to spill the tea so I took it from you.”

Obi-Wan found everything else just as it had been. He still sat in bed, covers to his waist, leaning sideways against Qui-Gon. “Few bidutes odly? Sniff! Agh…” He rubbed his hand against his nose and gave a few strong sniffs to keep his runny nose back. “Are you certaid?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon reassured him softly, with another loving kiss to his head. “You’d barely fallen asleep, I promise. But you’re dreadfully tired, Padawan. Why do you not just relax and try to sleep again?”

“Wadt to stay ub,” he murmured, fighting the urge to sleep. “Wadt to stay with you. Dod’t wadt to wake ub add fide you gode.” He snuggled closer. Both of his master’s arms wrapped around him in a hug. “Dod’t wadt to biss a secod, sniff, a secod of, sniff- sniff, of you. Sniff! Argh!” Obi-Wan rubbed fiercely at his nose, trying to get it to behave itself.

“Relax, Padawan.” That was the commanding voice of Qui-Gon the Jedi Master, not of Qui-Gon the lover. And though it tickled and ran, Obi-wan obeyed at once and left his nose alone. Qui-Gon lifted a tissue and rubbed the nose carefully, then left the tissue in place to catch any more runs. “Your head cold will get no better if you do not take care to listen to what your body is telling you. We spent the whole morning trying to get you to sleep. And if what it takes for you to sleep is for me to leave again, then I will do so immediately.”

With strong objection, Obi-Wan shook his head. “Doe, Baster. Sniff!” Qui-Gon rubbed at his nose some more as he continued. “I’d like you to stay. I’ll try to sleeb agaid if you stay. I’ll listed to by body bore. I’ll listed to the Force.” He could think of nothing more to promise, so stopped at that, hoping it was enough for his master.

Qui-Gon stroked his head gently with an approving nod. “If you will do all these things, I shall stay.” Obi-Wan nodded and immediately closed his eyes to try to sleep. His body was indeed telling him to do so. He was in perfect warmth and comfort, and it seemed his body wanted him to take advantage of that. However, his nose was telling him that it needed to be blown and needed to sneeze. Obi-Wan found this conflict between sleep and sneezing a difficult one to resolve.

But not for nothing was Obi-Wan the apprentice of Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Trained well in the ways of negotiation, Obi-Wan quickly set to work on the dispute. He slipped slowly into the first stage of a basic relaxation meditation to appease his tired body as he dealt with his nose. It tickled fiercely, and he tried to calm it. He sniffled and managed to lift a heavy hand to swipe at his nose. But it demanded satisfaction. So tired was his body, however, that by the time he understood he’d have to sneeze at least a few times to appease his nose, he couldn’t lift his hand. Obi-Wan gave up weakly to both the fatigue and the sneezing, just living in the moment. “huhhhEKShfffffff!” He sneezed, pitching forward but finding himself falling into another mass of tissues. He opened his eyes weakly to see Qui-Gon holding them again. Qui-Gon stroked his head gently, making him close his eyes again to savor the touch.

He knew he was supposed to be sensing himself, not his master, and focused his attention back towards himself. There was another sneeze there, waiting and wanting to show itself before it would even consider letting him sleep. “hehhh…” He could feel it building in his nose, and though he knew he should probably fight it, his instincts were telling him to just relax and let it go. “ehhh… heh-kehhh… HUHKshhffff! Ehggshhhffff! ehhhHihshfffff! ehhh… ehh-hehhh… hehGshuffff!” He felt the tissues being lovingly rubbed against his nose, but Obi-Wan had not the energy to blow his nose again. The sense of relief which accompanied the release was overwhelming as it spread from his nose to the rest of his body. Utterly exhausted from the sneezes, he fell into a deep sleep.

/ O \

When he woke, it seemed as though he’d only just fallen asleep. Every part of him was still tired, but his mind again turned away from himself and toward Qui-Gon. He wanted to be sure the man was still there. Qui-Gon was, though Obi-Wan was not sleeping against him any more. At least, not in the same sense as he had been when he had fallen asleep. He was lying against the bed and pillows now, but he and Qui-Gon were still touching. Qui-Gon’s arm was around him, and Obi-Wan was snuggled close against his master’s side. Qui-Gon sat back against the headboard, a datapad in his hand. He looked from it to Obi-Wan once he realized his padawan was awake. “Obi-Wan,” he said softly, with a smile. “Had a good sleep?”

Obi-Wan nodded, sniffling. He had indeed had a good sleep, though it was already feeling too short. He thought of shaking his head upon this realization, but did not want Qui-Gon to worry needlessly again. When he reached up to push down the datapad to see what his master was reading, his arms felt much less heavy. “Basic bedicidal sciedce?”

Qui-Gon smiled and nodded, tipping his head towards the datapad. “Basic medicinal science,” he repeated, his voice clear. “I thought it might come in handy.” Obi-Wan knew that it was clearly not for the next mission and gave his master a doubtful look. “All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’m tired of not knowing what to do to make you feel better.”

Rubbing a finger against his nose, Obi-Wan shrugged. “This is just a bad cold id by dose. I’ll recover just fide.”

“I am certain of that,” he said with a very firm nod. “But it is not only this time. I worry every time you come down with something, as you pointed out to me earlier this afternoon. I simply thought that if I educated myself a little more, I might come up with some new way to help.”

“Add as I told you before, you do help,” replied Obi-Wan. “Id lots of… of ways-ehhh-heh-CHISHhhhhhh!” The sudden sneeze took them both off guard and Obi-Wan clapped a hand to his face in embarrassment, determined to do better about the next few sneezes he already felt coming on. But a hand pulled his away, and replaced it with a soft tissue. Obi-Wan nuzzled into it, his nose feeling sniffly and runny and the tissue feeling so dry and soft. His breathing was stuffy and shallow, and led easily into a series of small coughs. Qui-Gon was just about to suggest he blow his nose when the sneezes chose to strike. “hehhKTchfffff! huhhhShuffffff! ehhhKchfff!” He snuffled further, rubbing his nose into the tissue, and then he pulled back with a deep breath.

Qui-Gon seemed to be having trouble juggling the datapad and tissues in one hand, as his other arm was still wrapped comfortingly around Obi-Wan. “Set the databad dowd, Baster,” Obi-Wan said. “You dod’t deed it to take care of be every secod.”

Feeling that he was better off trusting his padawan, he agreed and put the datapad down. Then he cuddled Obi-Wan closer to him and gave him a tight squeeze of reassurance. Obi-Wan took the liberty of snuggling even closer, sitting up a bit again to lie against his master’s front. “So,” Qui-Gon said, giving a deep sigh to relax himself as well. “It is getting quite late into the evening. How is your appetite and have you any meal requests?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Wod’t be able to taste adythig. But I would eat adythig if you bade it for be.”

“Mmm,” Qui-Gon mused, smiling. “Time for me to get out my recipe for that stew—”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Adythig but that, I beadt to say!” He buried his face in his master’s tunic, as though hiding from the very idea of eating it. It had been full of rubbery bits that tasted like roof tar and extra chewy little things that were so spicy his eyes had watered and his teeth hadn’t been able to break them apart, so he’d swallowed them whole.

“It’s all right,” Qui-Gon soothed, stroking the back of his head again. His padawan had taken to growing his hair out a bit longer in the back, and it was nearly long enough now to be pulled into a very attractive and still relatively conservative ponytail. Nothing like his own of course as Obi-Wan did not have that sort of freedom of style as he was only a padawan, but in a way it was a little flattering to know his padawan wanted to follow in his master’s example. “Just a joke,” he assured Obi-Wan. “I only missed your smile and had hoped it might make a brief appearance at that.”

Obi-Wan looked up and gave a weak smile before burrowing back into his master’s warm chest. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’b just feelig too sick to fide adythig fuddy.”

Qui-Gon wrapped both arms around his padawan in a hug. His sleeves were long and thick, and the blanket so warm around Obi-Wan that he felt pleasantly caught in a nest made especially for him. He nuzzled his master’s neck and kissed it in appreciation. “My Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon returned the kiss with one to the top of his head. He cradled his young padawan and lover in his arms. “Oh how I wish I could make this cold go away. I just see you all sneezy and sniffly and snuffly and I want to be able to free you from it all. But all I can do is endure it with you, making you as comfortable as possible while it is upon you.”

“That is edough,” Obi-Wan replied.

Shaking his head sadly, “No, it’s not.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan insisted. He pulled his hand out from the warm nest and rubbed his nose. “Yes, it is. It’s all I deed.” He closed his eyes in contentment but did not sleep. He rubbed at his nose and sniffled against the collar of his master’s tunic.

“Sounds like you need tissues, too,” Qui-Gon said, pulling a few from the box and wedging them between his neck and Obi-Wan’s face. “Want to try blowing your nose again?”

Obi-Wan shook his head but snuffled into the tissues all the same. “Does’t helb.” He coughed from the congestion, his head warm and full, his nose running. His nose was so stuffed-up, he couldn’t even feel it leaking until a drip hit the sensitive skin beneath his nose, and that made him shiver with embarrassment, unable even to sniff to keep it from happening. He could only breathe heavily in and out through his mouth. He coughed again. Qui-Gon shot him another look which reminded Obi-Wan to listen to the needs of his body. “Well, baybe I’ll try,” Obi-Wan said quickly. He took a deep breath and blew his nose, while Qui-Gon held his nose through the tissues firmly to make it easier. When done, he still felt terribly stuffy, but his nose wasn’t quite so runny which was certainly a preferable improvement.

“That’s a good man,” Qui-Gon said softly, kissing Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek into his master’s shoulder in appreciation. “How about we start dinner off slowly with some tea first?” he suggested. “I took the liberty of asking Mace to bring over some things while you were sleeping, and we’ve got some nice new teas.”

Remembering the warmth the last cup of tea had brought, Obi-Wan nodded his head. “Tea souds good.” He sniffled and pulled himself off Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon took a few tissues and stuffed them in Obi-Wan’s hand, then set the box on Obi-Wan’s lap as he propped the man up against a great pile of pillows. He kissed Obi-Wan’s forehead lightly before heading out of the bedroom. Truth was, Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly feeling hungry enough for dinner. If he had to try to eat at all, he very much liked Qui-Gon’s idea of easing slowly into it.

Obi-Wan sniffed hard and rubbed the tissues under his nose, and then he just held them beneath as his nose began running again. Curious, he summoned over the datapad his master had been reading and looked it over. His master had been reading about proper treatments for fever, especially in survival types of situations. Obi-Wan chuckled and closed the current file, pulling up instead the list of communications addressed to Obi-Wan himself. Several of his age-mates had contacted him about minor matters, or just to see how he was feeling. These all followed a notification from the council which explained that his duties had been suspended until he was well and caught up. Obi-Wan dropped the tissues in order to manipulate the touchscreen to reply to a message from Bant.

“Ah-ah,” Qui-Gon said disapprovingly. He snatched the datapad from Obi-Wan’s hands, took a glance at it, and then set it aside. “If I’m not allowed to do some simple reading, neither are you. And you’re the sick one, so don’t you try to argue with me on that point.” He forced a cup of tea into Obi-Wan’s hands. “Now, you relax and drink. That’s all you have to do today, and if I must order you to do it as your master, I will. But I’d rather lie beside you as a lover. So no more thoughts about work.”

Obi-Wan nodded obediently. It was pointless to try and disagree with Qui-Gon when he was so right. He blew across the surface of the tea until the steam was not visibly rising from the cup. It had a strange dark reddish tint to it.

“Raspberry flavored,” Qui-Gon supplied.

Obi-Wan took a small sip. Whether it tasted even remotely like raspberries or not, Obi-Wan could not tell. He could taste nothing. But the heat was nice and there was a small amount of steam from the tea that tickled his nose when we went to drink. Obi-Wan’s nose wrinkled and he sniffed hard through his nose, though the breath did not get far.

He reached for the tissues, but Qui-Gon was already ready with two, pressed gently to Obi-Wan’s nose. Obi-Wan’s firm breath out through his mouth held his thanks to Qui-Gon, like a sigh of relief, as his eyes closed. “ihhh… Kshffff! Shefffff! hehhGshhffff! hehIhkshhffff! Hehhggxxshhhh! ihKSchhhffffff!” The sneezes were wet and forceful, but Obi-Wan had not spilled the tea. Qui-Gon started to pull the tissues away, by way of wiping Obi-Wan’s nose dry, but Obi-Wan grabbed his master’s wrist. “Ode bore,” he breathed, eyes still closed. “hehh…”

“Your nose still tickles after all that?” Qui-Gon asked, taking the tea from him with his other hand just in case.

Obi-Wan breathed out again in an affirmative sort of way. “Yes…” he managed, the word just riding his heavy breath. “Ode… bore ihhh sdeeze…” His nostrils twitched and his mouth turned down. He pushed his nose further into the tissues as the rest of his body pulled back with a deep breath. The urge was strong, stronger than he expected, stronger than it had seemed at first. “Baybe… baybe bore thad ode-IHHHShhhfff! hehUhChffff! hehShufffff! hugChufffff! ehhhShooffff!” After the sneezes, and a brief pause, he pulled back, nodding. “That’s it for dow.”

Qui-Gon wiped his nose dry with a fresh tissue. “All right, my Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan nodded with another heavy breath. Simply sneezing was robbing him of much energy. “You have such a soft touch,” he said, brushing his fingers across the back of Qui-Gon’s hand as the elder man finished with his nose. “Thang you.”