Obi-Wan palmed the door to their quarters and entered as quietly as possible. Qui-Gon would be furious with him for returning at such a late hour. Waking him would not be a good idea.

Leaving the lights down, Obi-Wan moved into the common room, slipping off his robe and draping it over a nearby chair as he went. He was just about to slip unnoticed into his own room when a soft rumbling from behind him caused him to turn.

Qui-Gon was hardly discernible in the room lit only by Coruscant's late city lights. A datapadd slipping from one relaxed hand, the other curled loosely around a cup of cold tea on the armrest, he was soundly asleep.

Maybe it was the overabundance of alcohol coursing through his veins. Or maybe it was the way the half-light lit his sleeping Master. Obi-Wan couldn't resist moving closer, watching his Master's chest rise and fall in slow, even breaths. He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. So enticing.

"Master?" he whispered. No response.

"Master?" A little louder now. And still no response.

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth lifted with an idea, and he moved to stand directly in front of his Master's sleeping form, leaning his hands into the couch back so that his lips nearly touched Qui-Gon's.

And then common sense hit him.

This would undoubtedly wake his Master. A Master who would undoubtedly take a piece out of his padawan hide for returning this late, and in a rather inebriated state to boot. Said hide-chewing would most likely be followed by a long night of meditation, and a relentless lightsaber drilling the following day. He grimaced at the thought.

Obi-Wan looked back to the lips under the trimmed moustache - soft, smooth, and slightly parted as if enticing Obi-Wan. Daring him.

Obi-Wan kisses Qui-Gon

Obi-Wan goes to his room