He’s a bloody mess, his hair is
disheveled and he’s limping and the last time Qui-Gon saw him, he
was falling of the landing platform but he’s alive, supported by
his padawan but alive and that’s all that matters as the Chancellor
jerks from the security and medical squad, the graze on his arm long
since treated.

The Chancellor has only one thought in
mind now. His love is alive.

“Chancellor Jinn, are you al-”

Qui-Gon cups the others face in his
hands. “You utter reckless fool.” He whispered harshly before
pulling him into a kiss, hands trembling on the others face as he
felt Obi-Wan stiffen from surprise before melting into the kiss with
a quiet whimper.

There were reasons for not doing this,
especially not in public with reporters taking pictures but for the
life of him, Qui-Gon couldn’t remember the reason as he felt
Obi-Wan pulse and heart beat.

There was a clearing of the throat and
Qui-Gon pulled back to look at Anakin, the boy staring at them
worriedly before glancing around. “That was…not wise…and master
needs medical attention.” The blond said awkwardly.

Obi-Wan blinked several times, his face
still caught in Qui-Gon’s hands before he paled several shades as
reality set in, eyes flickering to the security entourage, the
medical team and the team of paparazzi who had arrived like vultures
the moment news of the fifth assassination attempt this year on the
Chancellor had reached them.

“Oh Force.” He rasped out.

It would be all over the Republic by
the hour.

He paled another shade.

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon whispered,
regret filling him at his hasty action. Three years of hiding and
sneaking around… all for a hasty moment that could ruin them both.

The Jedi swallowed heavily and looked
at him, eyes wide. “Everyone is going to know…”

“…Then let them know. I don’t
regret you.” Qui-Gon said firmly before taking the Jedi by the
upper arm and pulling him over to the medical team. “Now you’re
injured, let them look to them. Padawan Skywalker, are you injured?”
He turned to him as the medic obediently took care of the Jedi
Knight.

“Only bruises Chancellor sir.”
Anakin glanced worriedly at his too pale master and then back up at
the Chancellor.

One action throwing three lives into
uncertainty with the ability to snowball so much further then anyone
could expect.

Qui-Gon swallowed even as he kept his
face as blank as he could.

And then he quietly sat down beside
Obi-Wan, taking his uninjured hand in his to press a soft kiss to the
knuckles. “I don’t regret you.” He whispered. “Regardless
what my careless actions makes happen today…I don’t regret you.”
Qui-Gon affirmed for the others sake.

Obi-Wan looked away from where the
medic was cleaning to look at Qui-Gon, staring at him for a long
moment before he lifted the large hand to his lips, pressing a gentle
kiss to the back. “And I will never regret you Qui-Gon Jinn.” He
smiled softly and laced their fingers together, clinging to the hand
that had given him comfort for so long.

()()()

“…The Jedi Council is summoning
me.” Obi-Wan whispered, staring at his bandaged hands as he sat on
the Chancellor’s couch in the office, Anakin pressed against his
uninjured side. “I…I need to answer the summoning.” He got out,
throat tight.

Qui-Gon paused where he was pouring
himself whiskey at his refreshment cabinet and set the bottle down,
moving to his lover instead to kneel down and take his hands. “Do
you want me to go with you?”

That got a breathless laugh out of
Obi-Wan. “Force do I but it wouldn’t be a wise thing.” The
paper crane seemed to hang heavily around Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Its already been exposed. What’s
another point of evidence now Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon stroked the
knuckles.

“It may be best to not flaunt our
relationship in the Council’s face Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan sighed and
pulled on the other until he could wrap his arms around him, Qui-Gon
quick to bury his face in the pale neck of his Jedi. “And right now
I need their leniency.” He murmured and Qui-Gon understood the
unspoken thing that had lingered between them for years.

Anakin.

Obi-Wan had responsibilities he
wouldn’t just abandon.

“Whatever happens, whatever they say
or do…know I love you Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon whispered.

“And I love you Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan
squeezed the others to him tightly, a little desperately, wondering
if this was his last moment with the Chancellor.

He then stood, stepping away from the
man and holding his hand out to Anakin. “Alright then, time to face
the music.” He smiled shakily.

Watching the man he loved, Qui-Gon
moved to his chair and pulled his cape off it. “Wait, your robe
was ruined and its cold Obi-Wan.” He moved to him, draping the cape
around the other man, closing the clasp before looking into the
others eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many
things he needed to say but for both their sake he didn’t if this
was the last goodbye before Obi-Wan was shipped away somewhere far
into the galaxy by the Jedi Order to separate them.

Anakin clung to his master’s hand,
watching the two before Obi-Wan gave a tired sigh and nodded. “Back
to the temple Anakin…”

Once both are gone Qui-Gon can’t help
but collapse into his chair at his desk, feeling bereft as he stares
at the polished wood. His heart just went out t

he door and he’s not sure its coming
back and he only has himself to blame.

()()()

Their disappointment feels like
swallowing burning ashes yet Obi-Wan can’t bring himself to look
away, can’t bring himself to renounce what he had with Qui-Gon,
can’t find any ounce of shame for loving the man. How can something
that feels so right and wonderful and pure be wrong in any galaxy?

So he meets their eyes as he explains
that yes, he’s been the Chancellor’s lover for the past three
years, yes, he was the one to give the much speculated on marigold
that often decorated Qui-Gon’s hair and yes, Qui-Gon had given him
the paper crane around his neck.

The council seems torn between the
sheer audacity of Obi-Wan going at it with the Chancellor, though
they had suspected it without any proof and disbelief that he would
risk his padawan like so.

“If you would punish me for love, for
compassion, then do so. But my padawan has done no wrong as he has
only ever followed my order. I request that any punishment you find
suitable will not be inflicted on him unless you intend to remove me
as his master.” Obi-Wan swallowed.

When did he turn so selfish?

He was willing to give Anakin, fragile
in his training as he was, over to someone else.

All for Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon’s cape was around him,
smelled of him. Qui-Gon who would stroke his hair away and tease his
freckles. Qui-Gon who had tense back muscles and needed a massage to
keep the knots and stress at ease, Qui-Gon who preferred dark red tea
and tarter treats then Obi-Wan.

‘…They can’t take that away from
me. I don’t need to be a Jedi to do good. I don’t need to be a
Jedi to be a peace keeper… but it would rip my heart in shards if I
let go of Qui-Gon.’

Every tense line in Obi-Wan’s body
eased at that realization.

‘I will not be an empty shell
floating through the galaxy.’

The realization is a revelation and a
benediction all at once. He knows what he’s doing now and he bows,
feeling the rich fabric around him as he does of Qui-Gon’s cloak as
he is dismissed so the council can debate on further action.

His walk to his quarters is barely
worth a note, whispers following him.

Everyone knows.

But no one stops him.

What does stop him however is Anakin
watching the viewscreen, the scene from the landing platform playing.
Him and Anakin coming limping into view, Qui-Gon’s face, the sheer
desperation and relief playing over the Chancellor’s face as he
marches towards Obi-Wan with the medic who had been bandaging him
desperately trying to reach for the man.

And then they’re kissing.

Familiar and desperate and Obi-Wan
remembers the taste of blood on his lips as Qui-Gon had managed to
split his lip a bit.

“And in a massive show of compassion,
the public has thrown its support to the Chancellor’s love affair
with Jedi Knight Kenobi, more on this later.”

‘Wait…what?’ Obi-Wan blinked,
hand coming up to close around the pedant hanging at the hollow of
his throat.