His reputation is as carefully built as anyone else's. Always a gentleman, honorable in combat, sophisticated in politics, suave in manner, elegant and refined in appearance; these are traits he finds admirable and so he strives to maintain them in himself.
Nevertheless, there are always exceptions.
Fortunately this one does not have an audience.
"I suppose you expect me to 'appreciate the gesture' or some other such nonsense," he drawls, glaring down past his crossed arms to the wrinkly green Jedi standing just outside of his door.
"Hmph," Yoda grunts as he lifts the steaming bowl just a touch higher. "Accept it, you should. Very empty, your cupboards are."
Blast dignity. Yan releases a short groan and quickly massages his throbbing temples before stepping to the side and gesturing towards his admittedly sparse living quarters. "I would appreciate you not snooping through my apartment while I am gone. It's a waste of time as it is, since I am typically away for months at a time."
Yoda remains where he is and jiggles the bowl.
Yan sighs and stretches a hand down to accept the steaming, foul-smelling offering. "Thank you, master," he intones.
The little gnome huffs once more before hobbling into his domain. "Nutritious, it is, and easy on the stomach."
Yan very much doubts that, though he is confident that his battle-tested stomach could handle it if he decides to try. "To which species' digestive system are you referring?" he quips. While Yoda wanders towards his small dining table, Yan crosses the cozy space and opens the balcony door. He breathes in the fresh air with a grateful smile.
"Make tea, I will," Yoda continues, blatantly ignoring the remark. "Eat that while it's hot, you should, and – " Yan glances over, holding the bowl through the door so that the smell stays outside. Yoda is staring at a small box on the counter with a frown.
Yan smirks. "I wasn't expecting guests," he explains. "So I broke habit and bought some takeout. I don't mean to offend, but – " Here he pauses and steps outside to glance over the balcony rail. The Temple steps are a long ways down and host a spattering of Jedi. Squinting just barely, he thinks he can make out a man tall enough, lanky enough, and hairy enough to be his former padawan (no matter if it isn't). With a brief second glance, he tosses the bowl's contents over the rail, not bothering to see if he hit his target before reentering his rooms.
"I don't like your stew," he finishes.
Yoda gives him a long once-over and then resumes his slow hobble around the kitchen. "Very immature, you have become."
"Nonsense. I merely attempted to regift it to someone who will enjoy it."
There is a brief surge of laughter in the Force as Yoda glances at him. "Due back any time, Qui-gon is."
"Mmm," Yan smirks. "Yes."