Title: The Itchies

Author: tarotgal

Rating: G/PG

Pairing: O/Q

Disclaimer: These boys are not mine. I don't get any money.

Summary: Obi-Wan is allergic to a class. Qui-Gon tries to help.

Notes: I started this story with the intention of writing arboretum-sex, but that so did not happen. Basically, it's just me venting my frustrations through Obi again. I've felt this way for three days now. Stupid spring. LOL



The Itchies

     Qui-Gon moved silently through their quarters upon his return. As a Jedi Master, he always moved smoothly and silently without having to put in any effort. But so silent was he that Obi-Wan jumped upon suddenly seeing him appear in the bedroom they shared. Qui-Gon was slightly surprised to see his padawan as well.


     Rather, he was surprised at the state in which he found his padawan. Obi-Wan sat cross-legged on the bed, his back curved and his head hanging down as he looked down at the datapad on the bed in front of him. Surrounding the datapad was a handful of balled-up tissues. Obi-Wan lifted his head. There was redness in his eyes and a tiny line across the bridge of his nose. As the startled look left his face, Obi-Wan reached up and scratched his nose, the tips of his fingers tracing around his nostrils and then his knuckles grazing against the underside of his nose.


     Qui-Gon only had to narrow his eyes for Obi-Wan to speak, though he cleared his throat first. "I'm going to have to drop the natural science lab, Master," he said, fingering the balled-up tissue clutched in his hand. "There's a heavy concentration on botany and I just can't..." He pressed the tissue to the base of his nose and blew softly. "I can't handle it." He pressed the tissue to his palm with his last two fingers and scratched his whole nose from top to bottom with his others. "It gives me the itchies."


     They had begun using that name for some of Obi-Wan's allergies back when he was just a young boy, but the term has stuck. Qui-Gon had hoped that his padawan might grow out of his reactions to certain plants, or that the medication the healers dispensed might make a significant difference. Sadly, his hopes had not been realized and Obi-Wan had been forced to cope with the itchiness around all his other work. "I'm afraid you cannot drop the lab. You need the knowledge, Obi-Wan."


     "I know," Obi-Wan nodded, scratching furiously at his nose. "And I know quitting is not very wise or Jedi-like. But, Master, neither is having an allergy attack start just a few minutes into a class. And my nose is driving me... crazy..." He pulled a fresh tissue from the box and scratched the insides of his nostrils through it repeatedly. Then he scratched the bridge of his nose again.


     "Be calm, Young One," Qui-Gon said, sitting down upon the bed. "I realize your allergies can be bad. But you cannot let them interfere with your studies."


     Too busy scratching his nose and the rest of his face, Obi-Wan did not immediately answer. He picked up one of his used tissues and rubbed it vigorously at his nose again. "It's beyond bad, Master. I cannot concentrate. My nose is itchy. My throat is itchy. And my whole face is... so..." He scratched madly at his face and his nostrils again.


     "Itchy?" Qui-Gon finished. Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon sighed with sympathy. "Have you--"


     Obi-Wan nodded. "I've had my medicine. I've changed my clothes. I've taken a shower. I've tried meditation. I've put in eye drops- all right, those actually helped a bit. But I'm still all itchy and sniffly and I cannot do this every day, Master. I won't get any work done during class or afterwards!" He practically whined, flopping over onto his side, his head just missing the pillow by a few inches.


     Despite his padawan's obvious misery, Qui-Gon smiled with something as close to a smirk as he ever got. So far as he knew, and he knew Obi-Wan quite well, there was nothing the young padawan hated more than the inability to properly do his work. Obi-Wan seemed tired of his sufferings, and Qui-Gon could not blame him for that. Sympathetically, Qui-Gon reached down and scratched at his padawan's cheek and nose for him.


     Obi-Wan screwed up his face and wiggled his nose and mouth around a bit, then shook his head free of his master's touch and scratched vigorously at it himself. "M'sorry," he muttered.


     Understanding that his touch had done more harm than good, Qui-Gon retracted his hand. "No need to apologize. I shall patiently move on to my back-up plan," he explained. Then he bent over and kissed Obi-Wan's nose gently, right on the crease that had appeared because Obi-Wan had rubbed at his nose so much, pushing the tip up.


     But at the kiss, Obi-Wan sighed happily. He smiled at the soothing sensation, which was accompanies by gentle, calming waves of the Force. But he also sniffled wetly just afterwards. When Qui-Gon went to kiss again, Obi-Wan pulled back. "Wait... I..." He raised a hand and concentrated hard. A tissue lifted out of the box on the far side of Qui-Gon and levitated over to him. Obi-Wan just had time to fold it in half when the sneeze struck. "Eeee-YITChhhhhh!" He blew his nose a few times, then scrubbed his nose dry. As he scratched at the insides of his nose through the tissue, he rolled his eyes. "I've beed lige this for hours dow. Add I was oddly id the arboretub for ted bidutes. Sniff!" He scratched the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, then cleared his throat again.


     Qui-Gon waited for him to finish, then kissed again the gentle nose again. "My poor Obi-Wan. You really must take this class, but I do see your dilemma."


     "I won't be able to concentrate on my work. I will disrupt the lesson for those around me. And I'll have the itchies all day long." He rubbed madly at his eyes then blinked them, wincing slightly in pain. Qui-Gon gave his padawan's eyelids soft kisses, then kissed his nose again.


     It was evident that Obi-Wan would not be able to take the class. But as he needed the lessons, Qui-Gon had only one solution. "How about I instruct you instead?" he suggested. "We can take frequent breaks for fresh air and I can carry extra tissues. And this way you will not be ruining the lesson for your agemates but you will still have a chance to learn. We can schedule a time in the arboretum when no one else is around and so if you do have an allergy attack, you can just bury yourself into my robes and sneeze and scratch without worrying about anyone watching you. And we'll try to leave the practical demonstrations and assignments to plants that don't make your nose itch quite so badly. How would that be?"


     Obi-Wan sighed and nodded. His thumb was rubbing hard against an eye, and he sniffled, but he made his acceptance of the suggested plan known. Then his head snapped down and his body shuddered during another sneeze. "ehhhhh-YEHShhhh!" He blew his nose in a combination nostril-scratching and blowing.


     Then Qui-Gon bent down and kissed his nose again. "Poor itchy Padawan Mine," he said, stroking the young man's head and avoiding his face. "How about I help you with your assignments until this passes? Then I will contact your instructor to make arrangements and get the lesson plan."


     Still scrubbing at his nose, this time with the back of his hand, Obi-Wan handed over his datapad and retrieved another tissue in the process. Scooting over a little, he rested his head on his master's thigh. He closed his eyes and sighed at the relief that brought. But he continued to scratch at his nose as the itching was relentless. With Qui-Gon's help in reading the material and prodding Obi-Wan for answers, the work was finished without too much difficulty. And, afterwards, Qui-Gon remained on the bed, petting Obi-Wan's arm and trying to soothe him with kisses and words.