Master Apprentice Archive The Sweet Taste of Gungan Quick search:

Summary: There is no pain; there is avoidance. Qui-Gon finds comfort in the arms of another. Inspired by page 8 of the Storybook.
Categories: Mild Angst. Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon/Jar Jar.
Rated R for adult themes and mild sexual references.

Warnings: Jar Jar. That's *Jar Jar*, linked romantically with Qui-Gon, and you may notice that there is no 'Parody' label on this story.

Feedback is always welcome. I mean, really: you gotta have *some* reaction to this one... drsquidlove@virginqueen.com

Thanks and a naked, oiled-up Obi-Wan to Layna for the beta. Respects paid to Laura JV, for paving the way down one very ugly path.

George Lucas owns the characters and the portions of script I've borrowed. If he'll put the frizzled lightsaber scene in the special edition, I'll let him use any portions of this he chooses.

Creatures were rushing in all directions in fear of the looming transports and swooping flying platforms. Qui-Gon dodged a low bush and ran harder for the trees where he might find some shelter from the thruster-wind that whipped his hair and cloak. Animals sprang in his path and away, their panicked squeals and squawks drowned by the sound of an approaching transport. Qui-Gon raced on, frowning as he saw a single creature crouching in the grass ahead, oblivious to the chaos around him as he fed on a clam.

Qui-Gon waved his arms in warning. "Get out of my way!"

The creature looked up and then reared back in horror, wailing.

Qui-Gon tried to run past, but suddenly the creature was wrapped around him, blinding him, crying for help. The transport howled over and Qui-Gon threw them both to the ground, feeling the wind rush over them as the creature broke the fall.

A beat passed before the Jedi Master could reclaim his breath and take stock of the single, lean tendon beneath him. He pushed away and stood, grimly taking in his sodden clothes as he moved to offer the creature a hand up. It had already somersaulted to its feet.

He almost had his first good look at the creature when it threw its arms around him. "Oyi, mooie-mooie! I luv yous!"

Qui-Gon had that momentary feel of the single tendon again, pushed it aside and extricated himself from the the hug. "Are you brainless? You almost got us killed!"

It pulled up, offended. "I spake!"

"The ability to speak does not make you intelligent," Qui-Gon snapped. "Now get out of here!" He strode off for the trees, sighed inwardly as his new friend followed, slinking beside him.

"No...no! Mesa stay...Mesa yous humble servaunt."

"That won't be necessary."

"Tis demunded by da guds. Tis a life debett, tis. Mesa called Jar Jar Binks."

Jar Jar shook his head emphatically, and for the first time Qui-Gon noticed his ears, long and leathered, hanging almost to his waist. They flopped almost elegantly, and came to rest over muscled shoulders.

Qui-Gon straightened himself and drew on the Force to focus. "I have no time for this now." He had to find Obi-Wan and get to-

He swung around a moment before he heard the sound of blaster fire. Obi-Wan was racing towards them, dripping and defenceless, flying platforms bearing down. Qui-Gon shouted a warning to Jar Jar and powered his own saber, reflecting the fire back on the droids, destroying them.

He schooled his relief to masterly sternness as Obi-Wan hobbled up, struggling for breath. Near twelve years, and he still hadn't learned to turn his lightsaber off before dropping into water.

Jar Jar muttered something, and Obi-Wan shot him a disdainful look. "What's this?"

Yes, Qui-Gon mused, a pathetic lifeform - as Obi-Wan liked to call them - but not one of his choosing. He sighed his displeasure. "A local. Let's go, before more of those droids show up."

Qui-Gon looked in on the Droid hold, where Jar Jar was poking around. Somehow he'd stuck with them, through the planet's core and their battle, and onto the Queen's ship.

Jar Jar reached to press a lever and reared back as the panel beside it sprung open, spilling tools over the floor. "Oie boie..."

"Problems?"

He swung around, tipping precariously before regaining his balance. "Mesa jus fine." A sheepish grin. "Where wesa goen?"

Qui-Gon hid his momentary surprise. They'd never even thought to tell him. "We'll be headed to Coruscant, where the Queen will make a formal protest before the Senate."

"Dis Senate, dey be ganna save da Naboo?" Jar Jar blinked, waiting for the bombad Jedi Master to promise that things would be fixed. For all his wailings and protestations, Qui-Gon realised, he'd followed them bravely, and faithfully.

"That is the Queen's hope." He could offer no more assurance.

Qui-Gon lay awake, exhausted, but his mind wouldn't still. Obi-Wan was warm and heavy in his arms, breathing deep and slow. Qui-Gon rarely had trouble sleeping with this prize in his grasp, but tonight, peace eluded him. He squeezed a little tighter, brushed a kiss through his Padawan's hair and smiled as the man shifted closer.

But tonight he was all bumps and weight, and the hum of the hyperdrive was entirely too loud to bear. Qui-Gon soothed Obi-Wan's already tranquil mind, pressing him a little deeper into sleep, and rolled out from under him.

The cool night-cycle air brushed through his sleepwear, so Qui-Gon pulled on his cloak. For a long time he watched his lover's gentle sleep, and then he dropped a kiss on his open mouth and ducked through the low doorway into the corridor.

Jar Jar had a room on the other side of the ship. It was a long walk, taken slowly, but Qui-Gon chose not to take the time to consider what he was doing. Cold seeped through his shoes, so Qui-Gon concentrated on that. It was soothing. Mindless.

The door opened automatically, to reveal Jar Jar leaning by the window, his chin propped on his elbows as he stared wistfully at the passing stars. "Wesa berry far from home."

"You will return." Qui-Gon took slow steps to stand behind the Gungan, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Jar Jar turned his head to meet Qui-Gon's gaze, the soft leather of his ear brushing over the Jedi's hand. His eyes were sad. "Mesa not know if Otoh Gunga still be dare."

"We'll do everything we can."

"Mesa know dat." A tiny smile turned the corner of his lip. "Maxibig is da Force."

Qui-Gon smiled, too. "Maxibig."

Jar Jar turned properly to face him, leaning casually against the transparisteel and blinking curiously. "Yousa allus eyen my funny."

Qui-Gon wet his lips, unaccustomed to the nervous flutter that teased in his stomach. "Do I?"

Moments slid by, and Qui-Gon's hand was reaching of its own accord, tracing the ridge where Jar Jar's throat was palest, following it up to nudge his chin so that he could press a kiss to the skin of his neck. Both hands slid up still further to cup his cheeks, bringing him down now to press kisses along those thick lips. So strange, to kiss someone taller. To kiss someone else.

By now, if he was with Obi-Wan, they would be half-naked, grinding passionately, devouring each other, but Jar Jar hadn't moved. The room was still, silent but for the whirr of the engines and the smack of his rain of kisses.

A touch on his head; Qui-Gon's eyes slid closed at the feel of awkward fingers combing clumsily through his hair, at the feel of Jar Jar's curiosity. The Gungan had likely never touched hair before.

A rubbery thumb brushed the skin behind his ear and Qui-Gon drew a breath, and then there was the brush of a dry tongue against his mouth. Tiny licks covered his lips as his head was cradled in thick-fingered hands. Such gentleness; it was hard to believe this creature was so clumsy by day. Qui-Gon let his hands roam down to the cord of chest, hesitated, and then pushed the vest off Jar Jar's leanly-muscled shoulders. Jar Jar regretfully untangled his fingers from Qui-Gon's hair, so that the vest could drop away, and then pushed at the Jedi cloak.

Clothing fell piece by piece, two strangers exploring strange bodies with amazing patience, leather against pale skin, two pairs of generous hands gilding planes and opening crevices.

Qui-Gon stayed awake through sheer Jedi will. He smoothed his beard over the snout pressed under his chin until Jar Jar was deep in sleep, and he could slide out of bed. He washed quickly, but as he dressed he lingered, reluctant to leave the elegant tangle of limbs behind.

Obi-Wan was groggy but awake when Qui-Gon returned. He stretched and peered lazily at his lover. "Anything wrong?"

"Everything's fine." Qui-Gon folded his cloak over a chair and slipped into Obi-Wan's outstretched arms.

"I wondered where you'd gone. I missed you." He squeezed Qui-Gon close and pressed his mouth open for a leisurely kiss. He pulled back, frowning. "What have you been eating?"

Qui-Gon faltered. "Just something from the galley."

"Hmm. Tastes like..."

Qui-Gon kissed his Padawan before he could come up with a name for the sweet taste of Gungan. Thankfully, Obi-Wan didn't mind at all, just wrapped every limb he had around his Master, taking and giving back thrice over.

It was not the last time he snuck to the Gungan's bed. He wasn't sure if Jar Jar knew the truth about Obi-Wan. Jedi were discreet in their relationships, as in all things, and during his night time liasons with Jar Jar never a word was spoken of their outside lives.

It must have been some subconscious masochistic tendency that caused him to invite Jar Jar along on Tatooine. He was of no particular use, and Qui-Gon had had fair warning of the trouble that inevitably followed him. Yet here he was, dining with them in the Skywalker home, somehow intact after nearly causing incidents with four separate shop owners.

'Dining' was a term Qui-Gon would have used loosely. Every culture had its own idea about table manners, but the long, pink tongue that flicked out to snap up fruit from the table of this impoverished family was difficult to accept. Was even more difficult to accept with the faint sense that Jar Jar was teasing him, waiting for a reproof that he would be too Jedi to make.

Once more and the tongue was in his grasp faster than thought, and that did nothing to help. The surprise on Jar Jar's face, the talented rope restrained in his fingers and the sudden silent tension in the room all vibrated in that strange place Jar Jar had found inside him, locking his jaw closed.

This wasn't the time. He managed to grind out a simple "Don't. Do it. Again," and the extra spark in the Gungan's eyes surprised him enough that he let go. Sexual energy flowed around the table, lighting them like beacons, and Qui-Gon wondered stupidly if Shmi would ask Ani to leave the room.

"Are you a Jedi?"

Qui-Gon took a second to understand why the boy had asked. It wrenched his attention back to the conversation. This distraction was dangerous.

Qui-Gon found Jar Jar on the back porch later that night, after the dust storm had settled.

"What the hell were you playing at?" He paced over, cornering him, barely noticing him shrink back like a chastened pet. "They have opened their-" and that tongue was in his fist again, halted on its path to his face.

"What in the Force?" And then Qui-Gon recognised the spark he'd seen earlier, a tiny challenge as Jar Jar tugged in his grip. Asking to be reprimanded.

Qui-Gon's hand opened and Jar Jar's tongue snapped back so fast its owner almost choked. He took a few steps back, shaking his head, and turned on his heel to leave.

"Messah Jedi, wait!"

He stopped, turning his stony gaze on his friend.

"Mesa taut-"

"You thought wrong."

Jar Jar's eyes dropped, and his whole body drooped with them. The obsequiousness disappeared, only genuine regret remaining, and it cut straight through Qui-Gon's irritation.

Two steps brought him close enough to lay a kiss on the ridge of Jar Jar's nose. "I'm a Jedi. I don't want to play those games with you." He let a hand slide down one long ear, thumb caressing the ripples, until Jar Jar's eyes closed.

"Mesa sorry."

Another long caress. "Never be sorry, my friend." He pressed his face to Jar Jar's and hummed in pleasure as cheek rubbed beard. "There seems to be a shortage of beds inside. I thought I might sleep up here, under the stars."

"Yousa bes be keepen warm."

"Keep me warm."

Four-fingered hands slid under Qui-Gon's robe to hold him tightly, and he closed his eyes. This was what he needed. Serenity was here, where the time passed without Padme's questions or greedy traders or-

"Yousa miss da Padawan."

Qui-Gon froze.

The soft snout burrowed through his hair. "Obi-Wan maken yousa sad."

Qui-Gon willed his fears into the Force. Jar Jar's tone wasn't angry. He could trust him. "He's leaving me."

"Hesa mad?"

That would have been easier. "He's grown up. He's going to be a Knight, soon, and then he will have to follow his own path."

There was a long pause, wide lips pulling gently on his hair. "Whysa yous wit Jar Jar Binks?"

"I don't know."

Every minute, every minute Qui-Gon spent with Obi-Wan was so precious, now, that he could no longer bear to spend them. The weight Qui-Gon had been trying to escape settled like permasteel on his chest and he struggled for his next breath.

The arms around him tightened. "Mesa keepen yous warm dis night."

Qui-Gon spoke to Obi-Wan later, neutral words of ship parts and trade, and Qui-Gon ached to hear that steady voice. So many things not said, all reduced to Obi-Wan's "Take care." Qui-Gon closed the channel before he could ask him to come stay. Mission first, always.

That night Qui-Gon curled up against a body too long, too thin, against skin that seemed rough and cold. But it cared.

The mysterious attacker on Tatooine had shaken Obi-Wan harder than Qui-Gon himself, though Qui-Gon was disturbed enough for two. They dealt with it like Jedi, ensuring the hyperdrive was running well, reassuring the Queen and taking their brief moment alone to discuss the attack. Obi-Wan kept his more personal concerns to stolen glances and a constant mental vigil.

Still, when Qui-Gon retired early, he was not surprised to find Obi-Wan joining him before he'd begun to strip.

As soon as Obi-Wan was through the door, he had Qui-Gon's face in his hands. They stared in silence, Obi-Wan unreadable, Qui-Gon taking the time to memorise every feature on his student's precious face. He looked so serious.

Qui-Gon gave his braid a light tug to draw a smile but Obi-Wan's lip trembled, and then his shields cracked open and Qui-Gon caught the full force of his Padawan's fears during the battle, watching Qui-Gon beaten back, watching Qui-Gon gasp for breath on the floor of the ship.

Clothes had never been torn away so fast, or Qui-Gon so quickly buried in his lover's body. He lay pressed against and inside Obi-Wan, nipping lovingly along the breadth of his shoulders. Such fragile, gentle flesh, pressing back, wanting to consume him and lend him strength and reverse the years. Qui-Gon needed none of it but to know his love was here.

Obi-Wan was standing in the middle of the landing platform, refusing to move and pretending he didn't notice that the object of his ire was within hearing range. "It is little wonder they offer you as little respect as you offer them."

His defiance was bordering on outright insolence, and it was trying Qui-Gon's patience. He'd been almost cruelly indifferent to Anakin since they'd left Tatooine, long before Qui-Gon had spoken of training the child himself. "If there is a lack of respect here, Padawan-"

"It is not disrespect, Master, it is the truth."

"From your point of view..."

"The boy is dangerous; they all sense it. Why can't you?"

"His fate is uncertain, not dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin's future. That should be enough for you."

With a glare, Obi-Wan stalked onto the ship, and Qui-Gon stared after him in irritated confusion.

Qui-Gon undressed slowly and lingered over washing. He was standing in the middle of the room, wondering if he might spend some time in meditation, when Obi-Wan finally arrived. He nodded a greeting and headed past to the toilet facilities.

"Would you care to meditate, Obi-Wan?"

He stopped in the doorway, flicking his gaze back as he pondered a reply. "No, Master. I'm rather tired. I thought I might go straight to bed."

"Very well."

As the door closed behind his student, Qui-Gon turned on the spot, suddenly feeling the bareness of their cabin. Meditating had lost its appeal. He crawled into bed and closed his eyes, listening to the familiar muffled rattles and rush of water as Obi-Wan prepared for bed. The door hushed open and Qui-Gon felt the lights lower as the bed dipped under his lover's body, waited for the warm press of body that never came.

Night distilled into carefully measured breaths, two bodies and two minds both strangely distinct. Qui-Gon opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, willing away the increasingly familiar ache in his chest.

He stilled himself, and then rolled over to curl up against Obi-Wan. It was a long, long moment before Obi-Wan's arms came around him, pulling Qui-Gon's head gently against his neck and resting his cheek on his hair.

Qui-Gon reached for his thoughts and Obi-Wan squeezed him tighter, but held his mind away.

Qui-Gon sensed a familiar presence and let his mind settle back into his body. He opened his eyes to see Jar Jar folded in front of him in an awkward copy of his own crossed legs, and felt a smile grow. "Good afternoon."

"Hey dare. Yousa be alone."

Qui-Gon hedged. "Obi-Wan is taking a turn at the controls."

"Hesa mad at yous?"

Mad? Hardly. It wasn't Jedi to be mad, and Obi-Wan was more Jedi than Qui-Gon himself. Obi-Wan was simply elsewhere. All the time.

Jar Jar blinked, and tipped his head a little further so that one ear fell forward over his shoulder, dangling in his lap. Qui-Gon reached across and Jar Jar pulled away, flicking the ear behind him with a pointed look.

For a moment they squared off, and then Jar Jar reached with his own hand to cover Qui-Gon's cheek. "Yousa mad at Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon rubbed against the hand. "No."

"Yousa ganna-"

"Ssssshh." Qui-Gon pressed two fingers gently to Jar Jar's lips, and then pressed harder, crawling forward until Jar Jar lay wide-eyed beneath him. Obi-Wan wouldn't be returning, not as long as he knew Qui-Gon was here. He sank against the Gungan's body, nuzzling his throat, embracing relief as Jar Jar's hands roamed up his back.

"Dissa no ganna help."

Qui-Gon burrowed deeper. "It helps, Jar Jar. Believe me, it helps."

Weeks passed locked in the confines of the Queen's ship, en route back to Naboo.

Days spent drilling an obedient, distant Padawan on routines far below his skill so that Anakin might observe. Moments stolen with a chiding but ever-willing friend. Nights in cold arms.

Qui-Gon lay awake, again, resisting the urge to crawl out of Obi-Wan's embrace, to pull on his cloak and pace the corridors and feel the cold floor under his feet. As he'd resisted the urge every night. Every minute was precious.

Pain counted for something: nights spent each pretending to believe the other was asleep; a shared bed though they both refused to speak; bodies that embraced but never kissed. If this was the only part of his Padawan that Qui-Gon could have, then he would have at least this much for as long as he could.

Obi-Wan's chest fluttered under his arm, and the hand in his hair shifted, petting. The first caress he'd felt since Coruscant. Another unsteady breath, rasping of stilled tears, but Obi-Wan would not reach for him.

Gathering his courage, Qui-Gon stretched his neck to lay a kiss on his Padawan's cheek. The younger man's head turned and Qui-Gon's kiss fell on soft lips.

Breath failed as he laid another chaste kiss and another, until Obi-Wan drew back, tucking Qui-Gon's head under his chin and holding him tight, one hand combing through his hair.

Not yet forgiven. But he would be.

They had only an hour to prepare after the Queen announced her battle plan. Qui-Gon was impressed at her thoroughness, but all he could think about was the number of Gungans who would be killed.

He tried to hold his patience as they discussed strategies with Panaka, wishing he could simply leave the details to Obi-Wan. If there was one thing Obi-Wan excelled in, it was poking holes in people's plans.

Obi-Wan looked up, sensing the thought, but his admonishing glare was ruined by the slight upward curl of his lip. He was rather proud of his penchance for doom and gloom, and the heady joy of a newly repaired friendship left him in the same reserved good mood as Qui-Gon.

Or the good mood Qui-Gon might have shared, if he hadn't been so worried about Jar Jar.

Finally he managed to break away to the Gungans, where 'General' Binks was strapping on armour and trying to order his new troops. He had no idea what he was doing, but was somehow succeeding anyway - right until he tripped over the reins of a kaadu.

Jar Jar looked up, sensing his observer, and somersaulted to his feet with a grin. He dipped his head at Qui-Gon's gesture, and followed him into the privacy of the woods.

"Yousa maken friends wit Obi-Wan?"

Qui-Gon gave a guilty snort. "Obi-Wan made friends with me."

"Hesa luv yous."

"I know." Qui-Gon stopped and faced his companion. "Thank you."

"Mesa happy for yous."

Qui-Gon cast a look back at the Gungan preparations, trying to forget the host of droid soldiers he'd seen on the Federation battleship. "You will be careful?"

"Wesa bad bombin warriors."

"You are my friend. I want to see you in the victory parade."

"Mesa havena liveplay wit yous. Mesa no ganna get pasted." Jar Jar stepped forward and pushed Qui-Gon's mouth open for a kiss. Deep and sweet; their last. "Mesa ganna see yousa maken Obi-Wan da Jedi Knight."

A final brush of lips. "I would like that."

Obi-Wan was waiting uncomfortably for his Master's return, and his _expression didn't ease as Qui-Gon strode up. "We are about to leave, Master."

Qui-Gon gave a nod, then took in his Padawan's tight features and laid a hand on his shoulder. "We are ready."

Obi-Wan stared hard at him, and then tugged him down for a plundering kiss. Qui-Gon accepted, too surprised at the rare public display to do more. Finally Obi-Wan pulled back, pain radiating from him as he licked the taste from his lips. The taste of-

Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan's hands before he could leave and pulled him close again. "I've said my goodbyes. It was a goodbye." He lowered his shields and drew his student in, letting his affection for Jar Jar be known even as he showed Obi-Wan his place at the core of his soul. "When this battle is done, Obi-Wan, we will start new. I will not let my fears guide me again."

Obi-Wan's anger eased, if not the hurt, but there was no time to heal the damage now. Captain Panaka raised a hand to signal them over, and they put their problems aside. There would be time to deal everything - after the mission.

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