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As soon as Qui-Gon reached his seat he could almost see the tension coming off his neighbor in waves. The man was leaning over, head in his hands and shoulders stiff. With how the man was hunched over he could not see any of his face, but his hair was the most fascinating shade of copper. The way it caught the artificial light in the cabin made Qui-Gon muse that it would almost glow in the sun. He smiled at the mental image as he reached for the overhead compartment above his seat. He stuffed his bag into the space and closed the door with a loud snap as the lock caught.
The sound startled the man, and he jumped slightly, lifting his head to look at Qui-Gon with wide grey-blue eyes. The ginger hair on the top of his head matches the neatly trimmed hair along his jaw and, coupled with the delicate features of his face makes him easily the prettiest man Qui-Gon had ever seen. A long moment passed while he stared up at Qui-Gon before he shook his head and went back to studying his knees with a mumbled, “sorry.” Even mumbling Qui-Gon could detect the crisp accent of the man’s voice
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Qui-Gon replied, settling into his seat.
The man sighed and straightened his back, resting his head against the back of his chair, “that’s not your fault. I am always pretty antsy when I fly so I should probably apologize in advance if I freak out or anything.”
“I fly often, I’ve sat by people who handle it much worse than you I am sure,” Qui-Gon said with a small smile, “once on a 15-hour flight I sat next to an older woman who cried hysterically the entire time.”
“F-fifteen hours?” the man stuttered, looking appalled at the very notion.
Unable to help himself Qui-Gon laughed before assuring the younger man that their 6-hour flight would be much easier than that one had been. “I’m Qui-Gon by the way,” he added, hoping the man would respond in kind. He wasn’t sure what it was about him but Qui-Gon couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.
He was rewarded with a smile that made his breath hitch in his throat.
“Obi-Wan,” he responded, holding out his hand to shake properly. His hand was smaller than Qui-Gon’s, but he could feel the strength in the man’s brief grip.
“It’s nice to meet you Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said sincerely, enjoying the feel of the man’s name on his lips. “Out of curiosity, what got you on a plane if you hate flying so much?”
Obi-Wan sighed, sinking back into his seat before smiling softly up at Qui-Gon. “My little brother, Anakin, asked me to come home for his birthday. It’s the day after tomorrow so there was no time to drive.”
“Sounds like you are a good brother.”
“The little shit guilted me into it.” Obi-Wan grumbled, startling a laugh out of Qui-Gon.
While they have spoken the rest of the passengers have settled into their spots and the flight attendant has started doing their preflight announcements. Qui-Gon spared them a glance, but otherwise paid them little mind. He flew often enough he could give their speech in his sleep.
Obi-Wan on the other hand paid rapt attention, his eyes glancing to everything the attendant was pointing out as though he wanted to embed the information into his mind. Qui-Gon found it adorable and had to struggle not to openly smile at the look of concentration on the younger man’s face. He could also see the anxiety starting to rise in him. It wasn’t anything big, just a shift in the tightness of his shoulders, his hands clenched into fight fists, the increased pace of his breath. The moment of calm when they spoke was melting away as his fears started to take over again.
Qui-Gon isn't sure why, but he wants to help. To find someway to settle the man’s fears, but why? They are quite literally strangers and he flew all the time. This is not the first cute neighbor he has had on a flight, and not the first one to be scared either, but there was just… something about Obi-Wan that wouldn’t let him put the man out of his mind. Something stopping from his just slipping on his headphones and listening to the audio book by the speaker at the conference he was headed to.
The plane, which had been moving smoothly over the tarmac, jerks as it takes off and starts gaining altitude. Obi-Wan’s hand was suddenly grasping Qui-Gon’s, fingers desperately curled around the larger hand and he could feel the tremor of fear in the tight grip. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his lips pressed hard together as though trying to stop himself from making a sound. Qui-Gon couldn’t tell if Obi-Wan was aware he had grabbed his hand, or if it was pure reflex.
To his own surprise, he doesn’t mind the other man clinging to his hand. He had wanted a way to comfort him and if this would help, he would gladly do it. He shifted his hand to curl his own fingers between Obi-Wan’s and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
The already tense man visibly stiffened further, eyes flying open almost comically wide, and he tried to pull his hand away.
“I-oh I am so sorry I didn’t mean to-” he apologized before Qui-Gon cut him off with a shake of his head.
“It’s alright Obi-Wan,” he said with a soft smile, squeezing his hand lightly, “I don’t mind if it helps you.”
“Really?”
Qui-Gon nodded, “I’ll be right here next to you Obi-Wan.”
The plane leveled out but Qui-Gon kept a hold of his hand. He was reveling in the feel of the softness and warmth of the other man’s skin. It was hardly the first time he had held someone’s hand, but he could not remember ever enjoying something as simple as hand holding this much before.
Completely forgoing his audio book, he passed the time talking to his newfound companion and found himself feeling more and more drawn to the man. Obi-Wan was a horticulture researcher for the government and had fascinating stories about his work in the National Parks preserving the native plant life. Qui-Gon had always had a very strong connection with living things, plant and animal alike and both his apartment and office at the University where he taught philosophy looked more like greenhouses than anything else. Normally any attempt to talk to his friends about his plants were met with teasing but Obi-Wan proved himself to be both a knowledgeable and involved conversationalist. If Qui-Gon was equally fascinated by the man’s soft smiles and ability to blush at the barest hint of a compliment could anyone really blame him?
Obi-Wan seemed to have finally relaxed, almost all of the tension from their takeoff having wore away as they spoke, when the seat belt light flashed overhead and the plane rocked violently around them. The intercom clicked on, informing the passengers that they don’t expect the turbulence to last long and to please remain seated for the duration of the rough patch but Qui-Gon barely noticed it.
What he did notice was the tightening of Obi-Wan’s hand around his own, the fear in his eyes as they darted around the plane and the way his breaths had started to come in quick, short gasps.
“Obi-Wan, it’s okay. It’s just a little turbulence it will be over soon,” he attempted to console him, more dismayed than he would like to admit at the fear on other man's face. He turned in his seat, as much as he could with the belt around his waist, and reached for Obi-Wan’s shoulder with his free hand. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze while turning Obi-Wan to face him.
“You need to calm you breathing,” he said, his voice steady in the hope that it would help reach the panicked man but he doesn't seem to be hearing Qui-Gon’s voice.
The plane jerks, jostling the passengers and an almost pained whimper escaped from Obi-Wan’s throat and, desperate to distract the man anyway possible and with the hope that this wouldn’t get him a black eye, Qui-Gon moved his hand from his shoulder to the back on his head, fingers sliding through silky copper locks before pulling him forward and into a firm kiss.
Obi-Wan’s first reaction was to freeze against Qui-Gon and he wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the panicked state the man had been in. He was about to pull away and apologize when Obi-Wan leaned further into him and returned the kiss.
For Qui-Gon it was like everything around them fell away and nothing else mattered except the feel of soft lips against his own, the warmth of Obi-wan’s tongue as he slipped it into his mouth and the taste of the amazing man he could almost not believe was actually kissing him back.
When they finally parted the plane was steady again, the seat belt light turned off and with it all traces of Obi-Wan’s earlier panic. In the aftermath of their kiss Obi-Wan’s face was flushed, proving his earlier blushes to be slight in comparison.
After taking a few deep breaths Obi-Wan smiled up at him, making it far too tempting to pull him back in for another kiss, before speaking.
“Can I buy you a drink, after we land I mean?”
Qui-Gon laughed softly, running his fingers across the knuckles of the hand he was still holding onto, “you took the words right out of my mouth.”