Looking for a fun April Fool's activity? We in the QuinObi Discord have something up our sleeves!
There's that popular trope, you know the one, where a hapless Quinlan, for reasons unknown, gets "found" by the Coruscant Guard in the dumpster. For this event, we charge you with a mission: giving Quin a REASON to be there that he decided on himself. Is he lying in wait for a mark while on a mission? Is he digging around for items that he can read with his psychometry so he can track someone down? Did he and Obi-Wan dive into one to hide from someone else (and accidentally start making out)? Do Jedi Shadows have a network of camping sites in the lower levels of Coruscant that are made to look like dumpsters in case one of them needs a last minute safe place to go where they won't be noticed?
Make this as serious or as silly as you wish! And remember, Quinlan Vos is a really, really smart guy who is great at his job (Obi-Wan certainly thinks so!). If he's in a dumpster, he has a reason for it, whether he planned it or decided last minute. Feel free to include any and all characters you like (but given the nature of this blog, any shipping is limited to QuinObi).
Word Count Min: 500
Post On: April 1st, 2026
Tag this blog on the day of, and I'll also have an Ao3 collection going!
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos, CC-1010 | Fox & Quinlan Vos, CC-1010 | Fox & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Quinlan Vos, Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Dumpster - Character
Additional Tags: Coruscant Guard (Star Wars), living weapon AU, Psychometry | Force Echo (Star Wars), Quinlan is on mission, CC-1010 | Fox is So Done, CC-1010 | Fox-centric, Fox meets Vos for the first time, First Impressions, Reclaim the Dumpster Trope, Quinlan has a very good reason
Series: Part 3 of Living Weapons AU
Summary:
Fox took the Watch Commander shift and regrets it when he is called to a disturbance. Either a man on a crazy spice trip or a Jedi. It’s very hard to decide who is in that dumpster.
@kogoeru @worm-strung-string @quinobievents not a focus of Quin/Obi, more focused on the Dumpster.
for the Quinlan in the Dumpster: Reclamation of a Trope from @quinobievents, enjoy!
“Sorry, come again?” Eri asks because he did hear the man currently rooting around one of the large rubbish collectors correctly, he just can’t quite believe his ears. Eri’s no expert on the matter but Jedi seem far too refined and fancy to be found on the third level, let alone in one of the dingier corners of the dark floor.
“Jedi business,” comes the same response, though significantly less friendly now, there’s a level of resigned exhaustion to the voice that suggests to Eri this not the first time this dumpster diving citizen has had to repeat himself and perhaps the number is no longer even in double digits.
“Jedi business…in a dumpster?”
“Yes,” is the tired answer and a chunk of metal goes flying to the other end of the large dumpster with ease that has Eri’s hand finding the but of his taser.
“Are you feeling okay? Still connected to reality?” Eri curses himself for the question immediately following the display of strength that far outstrips his own. He’s alone and out matched, with a potential crazy person. Eri has not been trained for this.
The man - Jedi? Perhaps, though doubtful - peeks out of the dumpster to level Eri with a truly disappointed and unimpressed face from beneath thick dark locs that matches what most of his tutors and his own mother looked like while he was growing up, “That’s how you ask if someone’s having a mental health crisis?”
“I panicked!” Eri splutters feeling a little defensive and embarrassed.
The man rolls his eyes skyward and mutter’s to himself quietly, though not quietly enough to go unnoticed by Eri, “What are they teaching the kids in the guard these days?”
“Look sir-”
“It’s ‘pardon citizen’,” comes the pointed correction from the depths of the rubbish, again sounding distinctly like a disappointed teacher. Eri feels more shame and the usual corresponding wave of anger gurgle unpleasantly in his gut and his next words are a touch sharper for it.
“Sorry, citizen-”
“No, you got me correct, but the standard greeting is ‘pardon citizen’ helps avoid pissing off everybody,” he’s corrected, again. Bafflingly, considering his would-be-tutor is still neck deep in one of the worst levels rubbish while Eri palms his weapon.
“Uh…are you trying to teach me how to do my job whilst rooting around a dumpster claiming to be a Jedi?” Eri questions because he’s distinctly feeling his own break with reality right about now and wants to check this is really happening. Maybe Coruscanti officer wasn’t the best career choice, but they didn’t mind the lack of high grades or the record of bar brawls for poor decision-making a couple of years ago and Eri needed the credits if he was ever to get out of his mother’s flat.
“Kid-”
Eri bristles, “I’m over the age of majority-”
“Kid, you suck at your job,” the man states, completely ignoring Eri as he gracefully and supernaturally flips his way out of the dumpster. His attire screams smuggler with his leather vest and trousers and impressive shoulders on open display but the glint of metal at his hip that draws Eri’s eyes can’t be mistaken for anything but a lightsaber.
There’s an old style small comm unit floating out behind him in a very deliberate way as if to say ‘see, actual Jedi’. It lands in the Jedi’s hand, and he plugs it into a small tablet. Eri catches a glimpse of lines upon lines of code that make no sense before he turns his attention back to the man currently ignoring him.
“I just started today!” Eri yells, feeling the embarrassment burning across his face.
“Go back to training before you piss off the wrong person,” the man - Jedi - says a little gently but firmly, not at all condescending but Eri feels his fists clench regardless.
“I was supposed to be training, but they’re short-staffed with the chancellor’s gala so-”
That at least makes the Jedi soften to Eri for the first time, “they shoved you out the door without a manual, huh?”
Eri deflates, recognising the teasing tired tone that comes from someone who’s familiar with the bureaucracy he’s facing and the level of shit actually involved with wading through it, “Yes. I didn’t even get a partner.”
The Jedi sighs, “Alright, I’m sorry for snapping. Been a rough day hunting down these arseholes, and then they just had to throw their unit in the rubbish…seriously why does every criminal think that magically makes the evidence disappear? This level doesn’t even get collected till the end of the week! Kriffing idiots… well makes my job a little easier though its annoying to go through to find one little comm unit. Still, shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Eri blinks, once again baffled by this man, “… Thank you… I’m sorry too,” he replies a little haltingly.
“Word of advice kid,” the Jedi ignores Eri’s insulted face with a charming smile, “Start with pardon citizen and just always aim for empathy. Most people don’t need handcuffs, they just need an ear.”
“I’ll keep that in mind… Master?” Eri says awkwardly, remembering the title most Jedi carry and hoping the Jedi will actually introduce himself at least for Eri’s damned report.
This Jedi just smiles, laughter lines crinkling around his dark eyes, scrunching the strange gold tattoo across his nose and cheeks, “Classified, nice try kid. Good luck with the job, try to avoid getting punched in the face.”
Before Eri can gather his wounded ego to respond to that, the Jedi has pocketed the comm unit and small tablet and launched himself up a level with a jump that shouldn’t be physically possible.
“What the kriff…” Eri mutters to himself, deciding peace officer is perhaps not the job for him after all.
Also on AO3 [860w]
@quinobievents - Quinlan in the Dumpster: Reclamation of a Trope
Three things happen in quick succession.
One, Quinlan’s hand wraps around a familiar object, and he pulls it free with a quiet sound of triumph, rising from where he is crouched knee-deep in trash bags.
Two, the Force pings in warning, with a distinct undertone of having waited for the appropriate comedic timing.
Three, his new position brings him within full view of the Guard patrol currently passing right by the dumpster he is standing in, their attention zeroing in on the lightsaber he is holding aloft.
A brief moment of frozen tableau, then the two Guards move, blasters raising in warning although not yet threat.
“Freeze. You are currently in possession of a Class 17 restricted item. Hand it over now, or face penalties.”
Quinlan takes a moment to study them. He has seen the Guards out in the city these past few months, the red and white figures patrolling the Senate district, shadowing important figures, increasingly sticking their noses into any dealings even plausibly linked to Separatist activity. Heard plenty about them too, both on the streets and in the Temple. Overall, he’s not impressed. But this is his first chance meeting any face to face, so perhaps he can test them a little.
“What, this?” Quinlan brandishes the lightsaber, noting their slight flinch as they track the weapon. So, they clearly recognise what it is, although going by the fact that they are citing Class 17 – religious and cultural items – rather than Class 9 – powered weapons – they seem to be hoping he doesn’t. “Sorry, gentlemen, no can do. Finders, keepers, and all that.”
“Sir. Final warning, we really must insist - “
“Nope.” He ignites the saber, holding it in a simple vertical guard, the green glow lighting his face. Is it petty? Yes. Is it unnecessary? Probably. Is it dramatic? Hell yes. Sue him, the last weeks have been very stressful and he can’t resist the temptation to let loose a bit. “I am a Jedi, and this is my lightsaber, and you have no authority to remove it from my person.”
“You’re a Jedi?”
The disbelieving mutter probably wasn’t meant to be heard, but he has to admit that he kinda walked into that one. Blatantly-(re)acquired lightsaber aside, he really doesn’t look like a Jedi right now. Sure his latest undercover mission has concluded, but he’s still in civvies – and one of his shabbier get-ups at that – while he tidies up lose ends. Most critically, retrieving the lightsaber he shoved down the garbage chute when at imminent risk of it being discovered on his person. He hates having to use that trick, however well it works in the moment. There’s always the gamble that he is too slow coming back for it, and has to trace it through the Force all the way to the district’s main trashpit; and then dig it out of whatever pile it has ended up in.
But anyway, back to the increasingly-suspicious Guards staring him down. Time to give them a show.
Letting go of the lightsaber, he leaves it hovering in mid-air as he spreads his hands wide, posture shifting to draw an aura of mystery and power around himself.
“I am a Jedi. Master Quinlan Vos at your service.”
“S-Sir! Apologies, General, sir! I- We- That is-”
And Quinlan… doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like the waves of apprehension – fear – rolling off them as they snap to attention. Not when he was just having a bit of fun. ...He probably shouldn’t have done that. Extinguishing his saber, he tucks it into his belt so he can clamber out of the dumpster. The Guard on the left twitches as though to offer assistance, before jerking back into place.
“Don’t- It’s fine. Just a misunderstanding. At ease, or whatever.” The pair shift position, but look no more relaxed. “Look, I’m only technically a General, and the fact that I’m running around down here is actually kinda classified, so how about this: I didn’t see you, you didn’t see me, we both go our own way and this whole awkwardness is swept under the rug. Deal?”
For a long moment the Guards just stare at him, and the motionless helmets would be disconcerting if he couldn’t feel the thoughts churning behind the darkened visors.
“Sir,” - oh, not this again - “if you take the exit behind us, then the first left and second right, you will be back in Chintrel Market. From there, the lifts to the upper levels are clearly marked.”
“Uh, thanks?” Good to know, not that he was asking. But the acknowledgement seems to be what the Guard was waiting for.
“If that is all, have a pleasant day Mr Vos.” As one, the two Guards incline their head – thankfully not repeating their salute – then about face and continue their marching down the street.
A smile creeps across Quinlan’s face as he watches them go, processing the use of his civilian title, and the accompanying hint of mischief in their Force presence. Maybe he can like the Guard after all; he’ll have to see if he can run into more of them to find out.
Normally, Obi-Wan is one of the top three people he would invite into an unexpected stakeout, the other two being Tholme and Aayla.
But that was before he said what he said four months ago.
That was before Quinlan Vos, aged thirty-six, spy and all, blurted out I think I’m in love with you in a moment of post-coital madness. Obi-Wan, one arm flung over Quin’s waist, froze. Quin’s fingers were in Obi-Wan’s hair, stroking and soothing, when the words came out.
It was a whole thing.
Or,
Quinlan and Obi-Wan make confessions in an unexpected place.
Written for the "Quinlan in the Dumpster: Reclamation of a Trope" event @quinobievents!
He pulled his notice-me-not even more tightly around himself as he began to encounter more signs of life – or, well. Droids. The occasional waste receptacle. More doors that weren’t distinguished only by a faint seam.
Closer to that where that mass of lights had glowed – bright, warm, terrified – in his and Obi-Wan’s shared senses. He could still sense them ahead – the clarity of before had faded with the static cutting out, the relinquishing of their bond being held quite so close.
Looking for a fun April Fool's activity? We in the QuinObi Discord have something up our sleeves!
There's that popular trope, you know the one, where a hapless Quinlan, for reasons unknown, gets "found" by the Coruscant Guard in the dumpster. For this event, we charge you with a mission: giving Quin a REASON to be there that he decided on himself. Is he lying in wait for a mark while on a mission? Is he digging around for items that he can read with his psychometry so he can track someone down? Did he and Obi-Wan dive into one to hide from someone else (and accidentally start making out)? Do Jedi Shadows have a network of camping sites in the lower levels of Coruscant that are made to look like dumpsters in case one of them needs a last minute safe place to go where they won't be noticed?
Make this as serious or as silly as you wish! And remember, Quinlan Vos is a really, really smart guy who is great at his job (Obi-Wan certainly thinks so!). If he's in a dumpster, he has a reason for it, whether he planned it or decided last minute. Feel free to include any and all characters you like (but given the nature of this blog, any shipping is limited to QuinObi).
Word Count Min: 500
Post On: April 1st, 2026
Tag this blog on the day of, and I'll also have an Ao3 collection going!
Looking for a fun April Fool's activity? We in the QuinObi Discord have something up our sleeves!
There's that popular trope, you know the one, where a hapless Quinlan, for reasons unknown, gets "found" by the Coruscant Guard in the dumpster. For this event, we charge you with a mission: giving Quin a REASON to be there that he decided on himself. Is he lying in wait for a mark while on a mission? Is he digging around for items that he can read with his psychometry so he can track someone down? Did he and Obi-Wan dive into one to hide from someone else (and accidentally start making out)? Do Jedi Shadows have a network of camping sites in the lower levels of Coruscant that are made to look like dumpsters in case one of them needs a last minute safe place to go where they won't be noticed?
Make this as serious or as silly as you wish! And remember, Quinlan Vos is a really, really smart guy who is great at his job (Obi-Wan certainly thinks so!). If he's in a dumpster, he has a reason for it, whether he planned it or decided last minute. Feel free to include any and all characters you like (but given the nature of this blog, any shipping is limited to QuinObi).
Word Count Min: 500
Post On: April 1st, 2026
Tag this blog on the day of, and I'll also have an Ao3 collection going!
Looking for a fun April Fool's activity? We in the QuinObi Discord have something up our sleeves!
There's that popular trope, you know the one, where a hapless Quinlan, for reasons unknown, gets "found" by the Coruscant Guard in the dumpster. For this event, we charge you with a mission: giving Quin a REASON to be there that he decided on himself. Is he lying in wait for a mark while on a mission? Is he digging around for items that he can read with his psychometry so he can track someone down? Did he and Obi-Wan dive into one to hide from someone else (and accidentally start making out)? Do Jedi Shadows have a network of camping sites in the lower levels of Coruscant that are made to look like dumpsters in case one of them needs a last minute safe place to go where they won't be noticed?
Make this as serious or as silly as you wish! And remember, Quinlan Vos is a really, really smart guy who is great at his job (Obi-Wan certainly thinks so!). If he's in a dumpster, he has a reason for it, whether he planned it or decided last minute. Feel free to include any and all characters you like (but given the nature of this blog, any shipping is limited to QuinObi).
Word Count Min: 500
Post On: April 1st, 2026
Tag this blog on the day of, and I'll also have an Ao3 collection going!
Some more of that fic for @quinobievents that I've taken far too long to write, oops.
Chapter Warnings: Extensive but generally non-explicit references to the events of Chapter 1. Non-explicit but slightly more detailed references to consensual sex by the main couple. A section discusses baby theft/selling/illegal adoptions. Undercover work as something directly related to past traumas.
-------------------------------
Quinlan is so fucking careful that he thinks it might be a problem.
Like, legitimately so.
It’s not like he’s unusually careful in most of his life. He’s a pretty easy-going guy. Even with preparing to take on a padawan, he’s pretty chill. He and Aayla already know each other, and he’s got Master Tholme and grandmaster Plo to rely on. If anything goes wrong, or he has a bad day, or he has a solo mission, he’s got people to rely on. The Temple is built to do community child-rearing, and Aayla’s a fantastic kid. Plus, at twelve, she’s already pretty independent, so he doesn’t need to worry overly much about her, like, not being able to feed herself. She’s old enough to go to the commissary by herself and everything.
No, the thing that Quinlan is far too careful about is Obi-Wan.
Which. Obi-Wan is an adult. Obi-Wan’s been through some shit. Obi-Wan has emphatically impressed about all those around him that he is fully capable of handling himself and making his own decisions about his body.
But Quinlan, even with his gloves, has occasionally caught echoes. He can feel when Obi-Wan stiffens in his lap at something seemingly innocuous, like a hand tracing lightly between his shoulder blades, or a touch of teeth to the wrong part of his neck.
Quinlan really, really likes Obi-Wan. Loves him, even, even if he’s trying not to make any firm decisions on what shape that love is. Quinlan does not want to move faster than Obi-Wan wants. There is a real terror that Quinlan will suggest something, even something as comparatively innocent as taking their shirts off, and somehow ruin everything.
It’s not about scaring Obi-Wan off so much as just scaring him at all.
Quinlan thinks this is a very reasonable worry. Master Tholme disagrees. Master Plo had been watching Aayla in the other room when the discussion had gone down, and so had not provided an opinion.
For now, Quinlan is more than content for dates to end with Obi-Wan in his lap, arms around Quinlan’s neck, making out like their lives depend on it.
He gets to hold Obi-Wan’s hips and squeeze, gets the taste of his best friend on his tongue, and the warm, comforting weight of you’re here you’re at the Temple you’re not dead you’re back.
It still feels a little out of this world, that Obi-Wan is alive, and here, and safe again.
Obi-Wan shifts a little, hips rocking, and brushes against the tenting of Quinlan’s pants, something he’d tried to tuck out of the way, and clearly hadn’t quite succeeded at doing. He manages to avoid making a noise at the sensation, but it doesn’t matter. Obi-Wan has noticed.
“Well,” Obi-Wan laughs lightly, pulling away and looking down at Quinlan through bright, half-lidded eyes and a freckle-speckled blush, “that’s a nice surprise.”
“Is it?” Quinlan almost squeaks, barely able to breathe.
“I should think so,” Obi-Wan says. He ducks in to kiss at Quinlan’s neck, tugs at an earlobe with his teeth. “Was getting a little worried there, that you weren’t as into this as I was.”
“Worried?” Quinlan asks, trying to find the right way to walk down this particular tightrope.
“We could have worked around it, I suppose, but I don’t think anyone likes the idea of getting dumped,” Obi-Wan says. “Does this mean you’ll take my top off, now?”
Quinlan is… not sure of what to do. But if Obi-Wan’s ready to do that part, then Quinlan definitely isn’t saying no.
He takes Obi-Wan’s top off for him first, and then takes off his own, and… it’s not the biggest leap, but it’s something.
Obi-Wan is sold, at thirteen, and is not found for six years... but he is found.
He is brought home to a Temple that mourned him.
He is brought home to a place where he can heal.
This first chapter is the heaviest. There are off-screen, glossed-over underage rape scenes. Hopefully, the lack of graphic detail will make that easier to manage, but please skip those scenes if such things bother you. Details are in the author's note at top.
THINGS DO GET BETTER. Chapters 2-4 are the recovery, and are about healing and love, so it's just this first one that's kind of… awful.
Unfortunately, the fic that most inspired this, @glimmerglanger's "Transactional States," was taken down a few years ago when the author deleted their page. You may be able to access it with the Wayback Machine, and I know that there are google drive links floating around, but the author has asked people not to put those links in public spaces, so I won't be sharing that.
Originally brainstormed here.
------------------------------
Sometimes, the flutterby flapping its wings is easy to identify. The twist that changes everything is simple to see. Sometimes, it’s really just not that complicated.
Qui-Gon Jinn dies on Bandomeer.
--
“They won’t find you,” Xanatos, assures him, patting his cheek with a gloved hand, as if Obi-Wan is too dirty to have skin to skin contact. Obi-Wan flinches away, but the chains keep him from moving very far. “They’ll try, maybe; if nothing else, they’ll have to investigate dear Master Jinn’s death, but I think it’s a better way to honor his memory if they mourn you.”
He holds up a vial of blood that he’d had a droid take. “A little bit of this and one of the corpses we’ve already got in your size… it’ll be enough, don’t you think? They’ll stop looking.”
Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything. His eyes are on Qui-Gon Jinn’s dead body, just a few feet away. He feels very cold, and also nothing at all.
Xanatos sees him looking. A leather-clad hand caresses the back of Obi-Wan’s head. “Would you like to give him a kiss goodbye?”
--
Obi-Wan is sold. There is a special collar that he is sold with, letting him feel the Force but not use it. Prospective buyers are told it is for their safety, and also because a slave is better if they can anticipate your needs, yes?
Obi-Wan cannot easily shield himself from the press of pain and despair that surrounds him. It’s possible, but he is only barely thirteen. He relies on the Force both inside and out, asking for help from the universe, and now he can only do his best with what he does in the confines of his own head.
There is no asking the Force for help in shielding. There is only pain, and suffering, and—
Thank you so, so much to everyone who participated this year! <3 It's been a delight since I started this event three years ago to bring more QuinObi folks into the fold, connect with fellow shippers, celebrate these two, and make some amazing friendships! We do smaller events throughout the year, so stay tuned, and I also run a QuinObi Discord full of some of the best folks you'll ever meet, so feel free to ping me for an invite!
(Also, here at QuinObi Events, we always believe in being fashionably late, so if you wanted to create something and didn't get to finish, please feel free to tag the blog, and I'll share!)
Kiffar - n.
1. a sapient individual from the planet Kiffu
2. a humanoid sapient from Kiffu that remains humanoid at all times
Selkie - n. shortening
1. slang: a Sel-Kiffar
Sel-Kiffar - n. (lit. Seal-Kiffar)
1. a shapeshifting, sapient species native to the planet Kiffu, capable of transforming between a humanoid form and that of a marine mammal resembling a seal, also native to the planet, by removing an external 'skin' that can be donned at will
Anyway, this was meant for QuinObi Week Day 3: First Kiss… which was on the 17th. We'll pretend I was on time. @quinobievents
Originally brainstormed here and here.
---------------------
Obi-Wan is three years old when he meets Quinlan Vos. The other boy is five years old, and has a very distracting yellow strip on his nose. It catches the eyes, because the color is so cool, kind of like when Padawan Fisto visits to watch them while their crèchemaster takes a few hours to run personal errands.
Quinlan isn’t part of the same clan as Obi-Wan, but they have a few classes together in the gardens, now and again. It’s important, the crèchemasters say, to meet more of their fellow Jedi than just the ones in their own clans. Having classes—really, it’s playtime, where they get to look for bugs, but it sounds so grown-up to say it’s a class—in the gardens is a great way to learn and meet other Jedi!
At the end of the part where they’re supposed to be learning, the masters give them permission to go play by the ponds, and those who are semi-aquatic are allowed to go swimming, like Bant and that one nautolan girl from the other clan.
The rest of them need to get floaties. Obi-Wan lines up obediently with the rest of his clan to get some swim shorts and armbands.
Quinlan Vos, he notices, is just taking off his shirt, and untying the fur that was wrapped around his waist.
“Hey, hey,” Obi-Wan says, running over and tugging on his arm. “We gots to get floaties!”
Quinlan looks at him like he’s crazy. “I don’t.”
“We gotta!” Obi-Wan insists. “Bant doesn’t, and she’s a baby—”
“You’re a baby,” Quinlan says.
“—but she breathes—hey! Am not!”
Quinlan laughs at him. Obi-Wan is offended. He’s not a baby, he’s not.
“I don’t need floaties,” Quinlan says. “I’m not human.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan lets go of Quinlan’s arm. “What are you?”
Quinlan grins, whips the fur up and over onto his back and transforms.
The creature—Obi-Wan doesn’t even know what that is—winks at him, and then galumphs into the water.
Quinlan’s a really good swimmer. He looks so smooth, too.
“Master, Master!” he runs up to his crèchemaster and tugs at her sleeve; she’s kneeling down to help someone, so he can reach. “What’s Quin?”
She looks up from the floatie she’s attempting to clip together, and then over at the other Master.
The other Master smiles kindly. “Quinlan is a Sel-Kiffar. There are two near-human species on Kiffu, the Kiffar and Sel-Kiffar. The Kiffar look human always. The Sel-Kiffar have two forms: Selkie, the seal, and Kiffar, the near-human.”
A seal. That’s what the animal is called. Obi-Wan ignores the call to come back and get his own floaties, instead of running back to the water’s edge—he only stumbles a bit, and that fall was on purpose—and calling out, “Quin!”
The boy in question pops out of the water, at an angle that brings him quite close, but also splashes water all over Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan yelps and falls back on his butt.
“Mean!” he accuses.
Quinlan laughs. Probably. Obi-Wan thinks that’s what he’s doing.
Obi-Wan huffs. “Anyway. Are you faster than Bant? ‘cuz she’s a baby, but she’s always ready to swim, and you need that thing.”
Quinlan barks, and twists back over himself into the water.
A bit later, Bant and Quinlan are racing, along with the other semi-aquatic Jedi.
Obi-Wan is pretty sure Quinlan is the coolest person he knows.
He can change shapes!
--
Two hours later…
“Can I try?”
“Sure!”
…the Masters have to pull Quinlan and Obi-Wan apart in a panic.
As it turns out, Quinlan is the only person allowed to wear his own sealskin. If Obi-Wan manages to get it on, nobody will know how to get it off, and that would be a bad thing.
Obi-Wan thinks it would be cool.
“Seals can’t have chocolate,” Quinlan tells him gravely. “I can’t have it unless I’m human-shaped.”
Summary: Every year on the anniversary of his parents' deaths, Quin takes a trip with Tholme to honor their memory. This year, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon accompany them to southern Kiffu in secret so Quin can see his homeworld again without crossing paths with his aunt. In the wake of their first kiss the week before, the boys grow even closer.
Kissing Quin here on his homeworld leaves behind the sparks of a storm on Obi-Wan's tongue. Quin’s lips are warm and soft, and his hand sliding into Obi-Wan's hair is really, really, really nice.
“Was that okay?” Quin asks when he pulls back.
“More than, Quin.”
Quin flops down next to Obi-Wan, his gangly limbs splaying this way and that. Resting his head against Obi-Wan's shoulder, Quin gazes up at the swiftly falling stars as twilight fades into true and proper night. Taking a chance, Obi-Wan laces their fingers again.
“I like kissing you,” Quin admits. “A lot.”
“Me too. If you, um, you know, wanted to make it a regular thing, I wouldn’t mind.”
