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The locals called it the sex sickness. It was a very specific type of spore that once it got on clothes could leech through and get trapped on top of the skin where it would absorb and absorb until the victim had a terrible fever and shakes. Obi-Wan had fallen into an entire grove of the fungus. The local populous would have known to immediately strip the victim, and at least one of the rescuers and hold the victim as tight as possible. The warmth of skin to skin contact helped to process the spore.
Instead, Obi-Wan had finished the mission, trekked through the entire jungle and spent an entire day in infected clothes before anyone who knew better was able to figure out what was wrong. But then Obi-Wan had a blistering fever and shakes like he was coming down from Death Sticks.
The local healers told Qui-Gon that at this point sex would be the best option to relieve the pain Obi-Wan was in. The healers had told Obi-Wan this as well. But Obi-Wan had said no. The healers had offered number of males and females of their population who would be willing to help. Obi-Wan said no. The healer had finally dragged Qui-Gon aside.
“He’s in unnecessary pain,” she hissed. “Hang your cultural hang ups and help him!”
“I will,” Qui-Gon soothed. “Just leave us alone.”
“Oh,” the healer said, misunderstanding almost immediately. But it was fine. Obi-Wan was an adult, nearly at his knighting. Qui-Gon could see the shame that burned on Obi-Wan’s cheeks, even under the fever.
Now might be the time to address something they hadn’t addressed yet.
Qui-Gon got the healers cleared on of the room. He walked to Obi-Wan’s bed and changed the damp cloth on Obi-Wan’s forehead they were using to keep the fever down. There was a mild medicine in the water, which helped to keep the cloth cooler longer and relieved a little more of the fever than a normal cool compress. It also had a soothing scent.
“Are they gone?” Obi-Wan asked. His voice was so weak that it was hardly there at all. It made Qui-Gon’s heart clench.
“Yes, they’re gone,” Qui-Gon said. He tucked the blankets more up around Obi-Wan’s chin. He took the moment to run his hand against Obi-Wan’s sweat dampened brow. That small a touch caused Obi-Wan to sigh in relief. That small sound tightened his resolve.
He stood up and started to undress.
“Master,” Obi-Wan’s weak voice exclaimed. Qui-Gon ignored him. He ignored propriety and all the millions of things that had gone unsaid between them. He stripped down to his skins and crawled under the blankets with Obi-Wan.
The healers had undress Obi-Wan and not let him redress. They’d had him in a wash that killed the spores on his skin and put him under blankets that were made of a material the spores couldn’t cling to. He was still bare under the sheets. Qui-Gon had been very aware of this. But it was one thing to know, and entire other thing to feel it himself.
This time it was his turn to gasp. Sex wasn’t forbidden to the Jedi, but Qui-Gon had spent the past three years fighting a losing battle with himself about how he felt for his padawan. Obi-Wan had been an adult for a while, and a charming and beautiful adult at that. But Qui-Gon had carefully packed his feelings away, waiting for the day when Obi-Wan would be ready to take his Trials and become a Knight in his own right.
If Qui-Gon was honest about it, he knew that he planned to let Obi-Wan go off on his own for at least a year afterwards before Qui-Gon would let the topic be broached. Obi-Wan deserved time on his own to figure out who he was. They’d lived in each other’s pockets for years now. It wasn’t right to bring this up before Obi-Wan had time to himself.
Obi-Wan’s face was even redder than it had been as Qui-Gon wrapped himself around Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan let out a pathetic little whimper and then practically collapsed against Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon just held him tighter. Skin to skin contact and strong pressure, but were required to help the victims of this particular spore.
Obi-Wan tangled his legs with Qui-Gon and let out a particularly needy sounding groan. He buried his nose into Qui-Gon’s neck and Qui-Gon had to think very hard about Master Yoda’s shriveled face to keep himself from getting visibly turned on. Obi-Wan was sick. Now was really, really not the time.
They laid there perfectly still for a few long moments. Qui-Gon was able to calm down with the stillness. Obi-Wan was clinging to him, but he didn’t seem to be in nearly as much pain as before, and he wasn’t shaking anymore.
“Master, why?” Obi-Wan breathed out. Qui-Gon shivered. Obi-Wan’s lips and brushed over his neck when he’d spoken. Qui-Gon found himself forcibly thinking about Yoda again to keep from doing something stupid.
“I couldn’t let this tear you apart, Obi-Wan. I know how stubborn you can be sometimes,” Qui-Gon said. He spoke quietly because Obi-Wan couldn’t speak very loudly. It just seemed right.
“I… I didn’t want my first time to be because I was sick,” Obi-Wan whispered. His cheeks became terribly red again. But this time, so did Qui-Gon’s.
“Oh… I always assumed…” he trailed off.
“No… I want it to be special,” Obi-Wan whispered.
“Well, this doesn’t have to be sex,” Qui-Gon said. “But you need someone. I can’t let you suffer like this, not when I’m able to help.”
“Do you mean it?” Obi-Wan whispered.
Qui-Gon’s stomach turned over. “Yes, you stubborn man. Of course I want you to not be in pain.” He hugged Obi-Wan tighter and kissed the top of Obi-Wan’s head. “I wouldn’t even force someone I didn’t like to suffer like this, let alone someone I care about as much as I care about you.”
“You do?” Obi-Wan asked. He turned his face up so he could see Qui-Gon. He looked a little confused.
Qui-Gon found himself looking at Obi-Wan’s terribly flushed face. He looked so pitiful. Qui-Gon was certain he loved Obi-Wan then. It wasn’t just infatuation. It wasn’t just lust. It was deeper and more. Obi-Wan was still attractive even when he was sick. But seeing him like that made Qui-Gon’s chest hurt terribly. He just wanted Obi-Wan to be well again. This wasn’t sexy. It was so painful that Qui-Gon wanted to cry.
“There are things we cannot talk about yet,” Qui-Gon said. “Because I am your Master and you are my Padawan. But I know how you see me. And I see you in a similar manner. But we will wait until it is time. And this isn’t the time. This is the time for you to try and rest and ride out the end of the illness.”
“And you’ll stay?” Obi-Wan whispered.
“I’ll stay until the end of the universe,” Qui-Gon swore.
Obi-Wan’s lips twitched into an almost smirk. Then he settled his head down into Qui-Gon’s shoulders. “Good. I’ll hold you to that,” the mumbled into Qui-Gon’s chest.
Qui-Gon hugged Obi-Wan a little tighter and began to rub slow circles on his back. Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh of contentment. Slowly, Obi-Wan’s breathing deepened. Qui-Gon monitored Obi-Wan across the bond until he felt him drift off to sleep.
“You can hold me to it,” Qui-Gon whispered. He kissed the top of Obi-Wan’s head again, breathing in deeply, getting Obi-Wan’s scent strongly in his nose. “Hold me to it for all of my life. I will always be at your side, especially when you need me.”
Not that Obi-Wan heard. He was asleep. Qui-Gon monitored him for a little while longer before he allowed himself to slip off to sleep. It was warm and Qui-Gon had been awake through much off Obi-Wan’s treatment. Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one who badly needed rest. And Obi-Wan would see Qui-Gon again when he woke up.
Qui-Gon fell asleep, curled around Obi-Wan. For a few hours it was peaceful.