Archive: m_a, my homepage
(http://members.aol.com/amyaallen/sidewinder.html)
Pairing: Q/O (natch)
Rating: NC-17, I suppose, for somewhat explicit m/m lusting and
sex
Warning: Argh! Song fic! Run for cover if that makes your skin
crawl.
Summary: Just a little "First Time"(tm) vignette.
Series: not yet, not really, except as a further installment in
my stories-written-while- listening-to-too-much-Pete-Townshend
series. I've always thought this was one of the most
beautifully slashy songs ever written...
Feedback: sure thing
Disclaimer: the boys belong to George Lucas. The song belongs
to Pete Townshend.
/ And I moved... /
/ As I saw him looking in through my window /
/ His eyes were silent lies /
/ And I moved... /
Qui-Gon Jinn stretched out on the large bed in their guest
quarters, allowing himself a deep, contented sigh. After
fifteen days in the planet Grii's muggy, damp rainforests,
tracking down a group of Force-sensitive sentients of whom the
Jedi Council had no records, he had to admit there was
something to be said for being back in the comfort of civilized
accommodations. Showers, clean clothes and a place to sleep
free of biting, buzzing and crawling insects indeed provided a
pleasant change of pace.
After a few minutes of relaxation, he sat up to finish combing
out his hair before it dried completely. This most recent
mission with Obi- Wan had gone well; he would contact the
Council in a few hours, when it would be morning on Coruscant,
to let them know of their success. Grii was a large world on
the outer rim, recently aligned with the Republic and home to
several indigenous, intelligent races. The Jedi Council had
learned that one of those races, the Oomari, possessed what
might be an unusually strong sensitivity to the Force.
Unfortunately they were a reclusive people, living deep within
Grii's vast tropical belt with little contact with the rest of
the world's populace. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been sent to seek
out the Oomari and hopefully begin a communication with them.
It had not been easy, as the forest-dwelling Oomari generally
shunned others except when their habitat was threatened. But
curiosity had eventually drawn them out to make contact with
the two Jedi, sensing their shared understanding and connection
to the Force.
"How is it you can speak to the Forest?" the Oomari leader, a
female named U'al, had asked them. "How can you call to us in
Her voice, when we are Her chosen people?"
"That voice you hear is not isolated to this world, this
Forest," Qui-Gon had tried to explain. "It is strong here, in
this place so rich with life. Only a few can hear it as clearly
as the Oomari can. We come here to learn about your people--not
to interfere with your lives. We also come to offer to teach
what we know of this voice--what we call the Force-- if you
will allow us an audience."
After several days in their company, sharing knowledge, proving
their intentions were without malice, the Jedi had won U'al's
agreement to accompany them to Coruscant to meet with the
Council. One of the Oomari children would join them as well,
and if U'al was satisfied, he would remain to be trained at the
Temple.
Master Yoda and the others would be most pleased, Qui-Gon knew.
And if it had not been for the physically uncomfortable
conditions of the jungle, he would have loved to have stayed
longer, learning more about the unique abilities the Oomari
seemed to possess and their Force- rich environment. The forest
had been so strong in the Light Side, Qui-Gon felt more
refreshed and in tune with the Force than he could remember
feeling in years. If agreeable relations could be maintained
with the Oomari, he believed the Jedi would do well to
establish a temple and training center here.
/ And I saw him standing in the doorway /
/ His figure merely filled the space /
/ And I moved... /
/ ...But I moved toward him /
A few minutes later, Qui-Gon heard the water shut off in the
bathroom. Obi-Wan had been taking his turn washing away days of
sweat, mud, and annoying insects that had gotten through the
multiple layers of their clothes and made life as unpleasant as
possible the past few days. The forest may have been refreshing
to the spirit, but to the unaccustomed human body it was a
trial Qui-Gon knew his padawan would be complaining about for
weeks.
Obi-Wan stepped out of the bathroom, scrubbing his hair with a
towel. "At last, I think I am beginning to feel human again,"
he remarked dryly.
"Looking forward to the comforts of home, I gather?"
"Home, here...anywhere except that miserable jungle. Though I'm
certain there was some important lesson for me to learn through
this experience, which you no doubt are going to explain to me
now."
Qui-Gon smiled. After seven years, Obi-Wan seemed to know him
quite well. "Only that you did well, Obi-Wan, on this very
delicate mission. You did not let the discomfort of the
rather...inhospitable environment interfere with your
concentration, or influence your actions. The Council will be
very pleased with our success at beginning a communication with
the Oomari."
"They are a most curious people." Small, long- limbed, with
chameleon-skin that changed color with their mood and for
camouflage, the Oomari appeared fragile at first glance. But as
Yoda was always quick to remind students, "Size matters not".
The forest-dwellers showed remarkable strength and
Force-enhanced agility, both of which helped them survive in
surroundings filled with large predators and many other
hardships. "I wonder, though, with their dislike for
'outsiders' and technology in general, whether they will not in
the end refuse an ongoing connection with the Jedi--let alone
sending any of their children to the Temple for training."
"That will be a matter for the Oomari and the Council to
discuss. We only were here to open the door, give them the
opportunity to join us, if they wish." As Qui-Gon spoke, he
found his attention lingering more than he knew it should on
Obi-Wan's body, which was only partially covered by the towel
wrapped around his waist. There was no denying it--the boy had
grown into an incredibly handsome young man, right before his
eyes. The changes had been slow, and subtle with the passing
years...as had been the changes in Qui-Gon's feelings for his
apprentice.
He turned away as Obi-Wan tossed the towel back into the
bathroom and slipped his long nightshirt over his head. Qui-Gon
did not need the additional encouragement of seeing the young
man's naked body for his mind to fill with desires he knew--at
his age and with his mastery of the Force--he should be better
able to control. "I wonder if our companions next door are as
uncomfortable in these sterile, cool rooms as we were in their
native territory," Obi-Wan wondered. He sat lightly on the edge
of the bed, taking a comb to the long, thin trail of hair that
fell down over his shoulder.
"I sense they are doing all right," Qui-Gon told him, gently
reaching out for the two Oomari in the room next to their own.
The Force around them revealed unsurprising discomfort, but no
distress. The young one seemed to be sleeping, and U'al was
deep in contemplative meditation. He pulled back and left them
their privacy, noticing Obi-Wan struggling with a knot in his
hair. The way the young Jedi was tugging on the uncooperative
strands, Qui-Gon thought he'd be sure to yank half of them out
if he wasn't careful.
"I honestly don't know how you deal with a whole head of long
hair," Obi-Wan grumbled, wincing as his comb caught in another
knot.
"Would you like some assistance?" Qui-Gon offered.
"I'd be grateful for it," Obi-Wan answered, admitting defeat
and handing the comb over to his master. He soon began to smile
as Qui-Gon very carefully brushed through the long tail of
hair, working out the tangles with delicate teasing instead of
harsh yanks, not wanting to cause Obi-Wan any pain. "What is so
amusing, padawan?" he asked.
"It's silly, really," Obi-Wan dismissed, "but I was just
remembering how you used to do this for me when I was younger,
and had very little patience for the task myself. I'd
forgotten...how I rather enjoyed it."
"Nothing silly in that," Qui-Gon answered, separating the hair
into three thin, equal sections once the tangles were removed.
The strands felt so silky to his touch, freshly washed and
smelling softly of the flowery soap favored by their Griian
hosts. "There is much to be said for enjoying simple things,
such as letting someone brush your hair. As I recall,
you were the one who insisted that you were old enough,
after a time, to do it yourself."
"True," Obi-Wan admitted. "Ah, the foolishness of youth."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "So wise, now, are you, just past your
twentieth year?"
"Perhaps not wise. But not a child any longer."
"No, that you are not, my padawan," Qui-Gon agreed, even as he
heard the undertones implicit in Obi-Wan's remark. He knew he
was not the only one battling feelings of desire...a factor
that made his own battles against the way he felt all the more
difficult. The question hung heavy in the air these days as to
what they were going to do about it. They both were perfectly
aware of these changes, yet neither dared make the first step
to act upon them.
Obi-Wan... The name lingered on his thoughts as a soft
sigh escaped his lips. At times Qui- Gon's heart ached, feeling
the pull to give in to these desires, hearing too clearly the
echoing call of his padawan's heart. Qui-Gon knew that it was
nearly an unwritten rule of being a master that you had to be
ready to deal with your apprentice developing romantic
yearnings for you. But this was no simple childhood "crush"--he
had dealt with that before with his previous apprentices. This
was different, too strong, this longing too powerful to be
dismissed so easily.
It had never been easy to dismiss Obi-Wan, he thought with some
amusement. Not his desire to become Qui-Gon's student, not his
dedication to his master. Not the bond between them that begun
to take shape the moment he had left Coruscant with the
not-quite thirteen year old boy, even as he'd fought the pull
of the Force, of fate bringing them together.
Is there any real reason to keep fighting it, after
all this time? he wondered. Obi-Wan was a young man now,
who Qui-Gon knew was well aware of the pleasures of the flesh
and mature enough to not let them rule his mind. He followed
his master as always, yet not blindly--Obi-Wan was enough his
own person to not be afraid to question his master, and assert
himself when he felt it was necessary. Why should he still
resist this bond which had begun as that of padawan and master,
and which seemed destined to end as that of lovers?
The Council would say this is wrong, of course, he
thought to himself. Highly improper, something which somehow
would tarnish the supposed sanctity and purity of the master/
padawan relationship. But such things mattered little to
Qui-Gon. He listened to the Force before he listened to its
supposed masters, for he knew they were just mortals not very
different than himself--and mortals who, in his opinion, let
ancient traditions dictate their actions too severely.
Over, under, over, under...his hands went through the
repetitive motions of carefully rebraiding Obi-Wan's hair as
his mind reached out to gently touch his padawan's. The young
man's feelings were barely shielded, as if he was daring,
waiting for Qui-Gon to just push a little and let them shine
through. They had been dancing around intimacy for so long,
waiting to see who would dare to take the lead...
Qui-Gon knew it would have to be himself.
/ And I moved... /
/ And his hands felt like ice exciting /
/ As he laid me back just like an empty dress /
"There..." he said softly after tying tight the completed
braid. "Finished."
"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan turned to face him and their eyes
caught, holding longer than was appropriate.
"It was my pleasure, padawan."
He could feel Obi-Wan's silent plea not to turn away, not to
keep fighting what they both knew was there. Qui-Gon listened
for the Force to guide him, help him make this decision. He
reached out, feeling the living Force all around them, the way
it flowed between his apprentice and himself, harmonious and
strong. And he knew, then, that it was right.
The Force did not just support this union; the Force
demanded it.
And who was he to argue with the will of the Force?
He let go of the thin braid and reached up to lightly touch the
cropped hair above Obi-Wan's ear. He brushed through it gently,
affectionately, as he had so often contemplated doing and
envisioned in his dreams. He let his hand glide slowly down,
then, over the young man's temple, to his cheek, and he felt
Obi-Wan tremble under his feather-light touch, heard the sharp
intake of his breath. His padawan's light eyes were wide with
hope, and wonder, a thousand questions and one continued plea,
which Qui-Gon could hear as clearly as if it were spoken aloud.
Don't stop...Please, Master, tell me this not a dream...let
me know this is real...
Qui-Gon caressed and explored with his fingers what he ached to
feel with his lips. He ran his thumb lightly over Obi-Wan's
bottom lip, then slowly across the top, feeling the heat of his
breath escaping the slightly parted lips. Then he was the one
to shiver and gasp, as Obi-Wan leaned into his hand and brushed
his lips across Qui-Gon's palm.
"Padawan..." he whispered softly.
"Master," Obi-Wan sighed against his hand.
In two words, so much spoken.
Yes, I want this.
I need this.
Do not stop, do not deny this any longer.
I love you.
He could restrain himself no more. Slipping his hand behind
Obi-Wan's neck, Qui-Gon leaned in and met his padawan's eager
mouth, feeling the warmth of his lips, feeling it all the way
to his soul. So incredible...so right. Yes. Yes, this
was as it was meant to be. Love washed over him, powerful,
youthful, Obi-Wan...Hands tangled into his hair, determined to
hold him close and not to let him get away.
But there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to be...except
here.
/ And I moved... /
/ But a minute after he was weeping /
/ His tears his only truth /
Pausing for much needed breath, Obi-Wan dropped his head
against Qui-Gon's chest. Emotions unleashed came tumbling out
and Obi-Wan confessed in what almost sounded like a sob, "I
love you, Master. I have wanted this for so long..."
"I know. As have I. My beautiful padawan..." Qui-Gon kissed the
top of his head, and then his forehead, and then the bridge of
his nose and Obi-Wan lifted his head once more, smiling, damp
eyes beaming with joy. When their lips met again, there was no
uncertainty, nothing but desire to share and celebrate their
knowledge of each other's love. His hands found the edge of
Obi-Wan's nightshirt and slipped under it. The brush of his
fingers along the naked flesh beneath left Obi-Wan groaning
against his mouth. By the Force, Qui-Gon sighed in
return, as Obi-Wan felt so wonderful to touch and caress, his
body so strong and firm.
Obi-Wan pulled back and ripped the shirt over his head, tossing
it to the ground. His gaze filled with hunger, he looked to
Qui-Gon and nearly growled, "Your turn, Master."
With one fluid movement, Qui-Gon complied, shedding his shirt
even as he could barely draw his own eyes from the sight of his
padawan's body. It was as if he had never seen him unclothed
before, which of course he had many times, but never...never as
this. Never with his chest rising with heavy breaths, skin
flushed, his cock rising stiffly from a nest of soft- brown
curls.
"Beautiful..." he sighed, reaching out to run his hands over
the bare shoulders, down the slender arms.
"Not half as beautiful as you, my master."
"Half my age."
"Irrelevant," Obi-Wan dismissed, running his hand over
Qui-Gon's chest. Qui-Gon pulled him gently closer, and down
onto the bed, the long- ached-for press of their bodies
together enough to leave him lightheaded. More kisses followed,
each more desperate and filled with need than the last.
Writhing, entwined, molding together... every touch was a new
discovery, revealing something precious through a sigh, a
gasped breath, or a wave of emotion that rippled through the
Force and brought them closer together. As when together in
combat, they moved now in perfect harmony, each attune to the
other's every movement, what he needed, how the Force demanded
it to be.
But passions long restrained could not be held back forever.
Even as he yearned to spend all night slowly exploring
Obi-Wan's body, teaching him everything he knew of how to bring
pleasure to another, Qui-Gon could feel his padawan's control
slipping, the sensations overwhelming him. He quickly slid down
Obi-Wan's body, wanting--needing--to taste him, to drink in
fully this first shared moment of bliss.
"Master!" he heard Obi-Wan's harsh cry as Qui- Gon took him
into his mouth. The young Jedi thrashed against the sheets,
twisting them in his fists as he fought the urgency for release
surging through his body.
Don't fight it... Qui-Gon coaxed him with thought,
running his hands along Obi-Wan's sides. Let go...come for
me.
"Master..." a helpless, drawn-out groan this time, followed by
a shudder that passed through his body, a burst of salty, hot
fluid against Qui-Gon's tongue. He savored it, this essence of
life, just as he savored Obi-Wan's climax as if it were his
own.
/ And I moved... /
/ But I moved toward him /
He covered Obi-Wan's stomach and chest with light kisses as he
made his way back up his padawan's body. Obi-Wan curled up
tightly against him, his breath falling in ragged gasps onto
Qui-Gon's chest. Qui-Gon shared in the joy Obi-Wan felt,
letting his satisfaction and fulfillment wash over him,
treasuring this precious moment and knowing he had made the
right decision.
He could sense Obi-Wan's desire to simply drift asleep against
the comfort Qui-Gon offered in his warm embrace, yet the young
man was resisting, trying to find the energy to return the
favor to his master. "Rest, now, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon soothed,
stroking the smooth, slightly damp skin of the young man's
back. "Tomorrow, we can continue what was begun tonight. There
is no hurry."
"Yes, master," was the soft answer, murmured gently and with
love. Qui-Gon pulled the blanket over their bodies and, not
wishing to disturb Obi-Wan, he reached out with the Force to
dim the lights for sleep.
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