Summary: A response to Mac's challenge: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are
escorting a young man on a starship going... somewhere. Our two
Jedi have never considered the other as a lover, hasn't even
entered their heads. So our lovely young man sees this as a
challenge and a fun way to spend the trip - make these two
uptight gorgeous men lovers.
Disclaimer: George Lucas may have created them, but Qui Gon and
Obi-Wan belong to the whole universe.
Notes: Heartfelt appreciation to Destina and Ki G for
incredible betas and unlimited patience. Extra thanks to
Destina for trying to teach me the wonder of POVs. Any and all
mistakes are either solely in the minds of the reader or my own
:)
** Earth Voices by Bliss Carmen, 1916
Feedback: Please, privately
Two more days before they reached Senalta Ipsilon. Obi-Wan
finished feeding the flight corrections into the ship's
computer and hit 'enter'. He watched the passing stars for a
short time before reluctantly turning his attention back to the
matter at hand.
Adjo Keela happened to be that matter. The young Senaltan was
turning out to be somewhat of a trial, to say the least. The
Senalta monarchy had unexpectedly asked them to collect and
escort the young man back to his homeworld. Since they were
travelling to there to observe a treaty signing already, it was
no extra work to pick him up. But after only one day his
eccentric personality was wearing on Obi-Wan's patience.
The people of Senalta Ipsilon were known as high-spirited
social extroverts, although normally polite, but the Adjo's
unpredictable behavior was pushing beyond the outer limits of
that politeness. He was truly testing the Jedi's serenity.
Keela hadn't stopped talking or moving since he boarded several
hours ago, and Obi-Wan already had a pounding headache. He
could add aching knees to the list after tonight's
lengthy meditations on serenity and tolerance.
Their passenger was also an irrepressible flirt. At first it
had been amusing to watch Keela's smooth advances and Qui-Gon's
slightly embarrassed evasions - the great Jedi negotiator
Master Qui-Gon Jinn being pursued by this aggressive slip of a
boy who stood no chance of success. But the ice had slowly
melted, giving way to a friendly sort of companionship between
the two of them, which made Obi-Wan feel vaguely uncomfortable.
Not that Obi-Wan actually cared. Qui-Gon could flirt with or
fuck whomever he chose - and did on the odd occasion. Their
long association included knowing the general facts about each
other's love lives, so the idea that Qui-Gon might fancy the
young man was no shock. But Keela was so blatantly persistent
in his attempts to seduce Qui-Gon that it was beginning to
irritate Obi-Wan. He'd watched Qui-Gon befriend a multitude of
men like Keela on dozens of different planets. Too soft-hearted
to turn them away, he would listen to them and indulge them
with his company for hours if they wanted him to.
Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled as he thought about his
master. If oblivious had a name, it would be Qui-Gon Jinn.
Obi-Wan had grown used to watching others compete for scraps of
Qui-Gon's attention or the seat beside him at the banquet
table. His master was dangerously handsome, endowed with a
natural sensuality that ranged from "charm" to "exploding
supernova," and Obi-Wan considered himself fortunate to be
close enough to feel the residual heat of that phenomenon.
Qui-Gon, however, acted like he didn't notice. Or didn't care.
Keela was just the latest in a long line-up of admirers over
the years. He didn't know what or who Keela was back on his
homeworld - it was something their royal liaison hadn't shared
with them - but given the singular honour of a Jedi escort,
Obi-Wan suspected he was a blood member of the royal family.
Perhaps a younger son. Someone accustomed to getting anything
he wanted.
Obi-Wan forced himself to think about the more mundane aspects
of the trip. As he made his way to the galley for a late lunch,
he made a mental list of the things that could keep him
occupied over the duration of the voyage, both mentally and
physically.
He could hear Keela's high-pitched laughter mingle with his
master's pleasant, deep-voiced chuckle as he entered the
galley, and he looked up smiling, expecting to share their
joke.
Obi-Wan forced the smile to remain on his lips, but he knew
that the surprise showed in his eyes. Even though he'd been
trained extensively to deal with them in a diplomatic manner,
he hated awkward situations. He barely managed a polite "Excuse
me," before he turned on his heels and retreated.
"Oh hells," he heard Keela say far behind him, accompanied with
the hasty sound of feet hitting the floor and clothing being
rearranged. Obi-Wan slipped through the door to his cabin and
closed it quietly behind him.
'Sun and moons, Kenobi, that was well done,' he mentally lashed
himself. He sat on the edge of his bunk and sucked in several
gulps of air while his heartbeat slowed to normal. He wasn't
used to walking in on his Master's assignations. Nor to running
away from them.
Something like a nervous giggle was squeezing its way out, and
he squeezed his lips together and clapped one hand over his
mouth. It was actually kind of funny in an awkward sort of way
once he stopped to think about it. And he probably wouldn't
push a half-naked Keela off his lap either, if given the
chance. As he assessed the scene that was now burned into his
memory, he had to admit that Keela had a rather nice figure. He
was slightly smaller and lighter than Obi-Wan, and not nearly
as defined, but Keela did have an enticing lankiness that
looked as though it could lend itself to several interesting
positions.
But his master... Seeing Qui-Gon with that intense look on his
face, his hair in disarray and his clothing all rumpled... Now
that was worth walking in on.
Not that he was the slightest bit interested, he told himself,
as he readjusted the fabric stretched tautly across his groin.
This physical reaction was understandable, given the situation
he'd just witnessed and coupled with the fact that he'd been
celibate far too long. He used to enjoy sex, and once his
friends had accused him of going for a temple record in volume
and variety, but it wasn't the same anymore. He couldn't even
fake an interest in it....
The knocking at his door dragged him out of his thoughts. Ah,
yes. His master with either an apology or a rebuke.
Obi-Wan rolled off the bunk and glanced quickly at a small
mirror on the wall. He schooled his features into perfect calm
and deference, forced his body to behave itself, straightened
his clothing once more and opened the door.
"Adjo Keela," he murmured and gave a slight bow while managing
to keep the surprise off of his face.
Not waiting for an invitation, the young man backed Obi-Wan
into his quarters with one hand and flicked the door shut with
the other.
"Padawan Kenobi," he said as the two sat side by side on the
small bunk, "I must apologize to you for my behavior in the
galley. I accept full responsibility for that... display. I
don't normally assault my hosts in public, but," he continued
barely pausing for breath, "truth be told, Qui-Gon was too
tempting, and I just couldn't resist the opportunity. You must
have incredible self-control, being so close to him all the
time. Ghods, I'd let him have me in the middle of SenSpath's
marketplace during rush hour if he wanted to!" He rolled his
eyes and grinned at Obi-Wan, his hand still resting on
Obi-Wan's shoulder.
The Jedi stared back at him, his face carefully neutral except
for the diplomatic smile.
"Adjo, whatever occurs between you and Master Jinn is none of
my business. You don't need to explain anything to me. I hope I
am not being discourteous, but we really have nothing to
discuss," said Obi-Wan, his voice firm and steady.
Keela made no move to leave and remained seated, peering at
Obi-Wan's face. His eyes, Obi-Wan noticed, were a warm shade of
brown with beautiful strands of murky green, offset by thick
russet eyelashes that matched his short, curly hair. Yes, he
was quite an attractive boy. And his attractive hand was moving
provocatively up and down Obi-Wan's shoulder and arm, massaging
the flesh and hard muscle.
"Adjo," Obi-Wan said, abruptly moving away.
"Call me Keela, please," purred the other man, moving
seductively closer. "You are so beautiful," he continued,
barely missing a beat. The hand left his shoulder and moved to
caress a cheek. "Are all Jedi knights as stunningly gorgeous as
you two?" he whispered as he leaned in to touch Obi-Wan's lips
with his own.
If the Adjo had goosed him, Obi-Wan couldn't have jumped to his
feet any faster. "I'm not a knight," the words sounded rather
petulant as they left his lips. "Qui-Gon is my master. My
teacher. Until I become a knight myself."
"Will you be lovers then?" asked Keela, leaning back on the
bed.
"No," Obi-Wan shook his head and wondered briefly at the
confused expression on the other man's face.
"Does Qui-Gon have a lover now?" murmured Keela.
The young Adjo certainly had a knack for keeping Obi-Wan off
balance. It was as difficult a test as any his Master could
have devised for him. Maybe it was a test.
"No, I don't believe so," Obi-Wan replied as he stared down at
his fingers gripping the door handle. "I would like you to
leave. Now." He moved to open the door for him.
"Such a handsome creature, your master. Don't you think? I
can't imagine why no one has put a claim on him yet."
As if anyone would dare to, Obi-Wan thought stiffly.
"You don't have any plans for him, do you? There's something
about him that drives me crazy. He has such intriguing eyes.
And those lips. They taste like...." Keela narrowed his eyes
and licked his lips, growling softly. "Have you tasted them?"
Obi-Wan turned away from the door to face him, breathing
evenly. This was no different than facing your opponent across
the bargaining table, he told himself. He stilled his thoughts
and welcomed the peacefulness that it brought. "No," he said
calmly.
"You've never wondered what they taste like? Or what it's like
to touch his bare flesh? To inhale the taste of his nipples?"
He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly, flattening his
tongue between them before breathing in softly through his
mouth. "His throat? To run your hand over that lovely rump? Or
his....." Keela's plump lips tilted into a knowing grin as his
slender white fingers curled into a loose fist over his belly
to illustrate his words.
"No." Obi-Wan shook his head, as his peacefulness skittered
away. "He is my master and my friend. I don't think of him like
that."
"Really? I'll bet he thinks about you." The young man let his
eyes wander boldly up and down Obi-Wan's body.
"Never," Obi-Wan replied, an odd coldness seeping into his
voice. "It would compromise our relationship."
Keela stood up and drifted gracefully towards Obi-Wan. "So sure
are you?" he asked. "I'd lay odds he watches you when you're
not looking. Dreams of you at night. Wishes he could be more to
you...."
Obi-Wan stood mesmerized as Keela slowly closed the distance
between them. He watched passively while Keela leaned in
closer, until he felt fingers trail lightly over the erection
that had returned unnoticed. Obi-Wan jumped and tried to pull
away but the door was already pressed tightly against his back.
Keela's lips quirked into an appreciative grin as the length of
hard flesh twitched beneath his fingers. He leaned closer to
nuzzle the Jedi's throat, inhaling his sharp scent of arousal.
"So, who are you thinking about?" Keela whispered. His tongue
lashed out to capture a bead of sweat, but all it caught was
empty space as he was thrust away at arm's length. "Attitudes
ruin relationships, Obi-Wan. Not sex," he chuckled softly.
Keela pulled his hand back and held them both up in surrender,
still grinning. After a moment, he reached over and gently
pried the tense young Jedi away from the closed door. He opened
it and disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan alone to gather up his
scattered serenity.
The young Jedi sat down again and stared at the door. If that
was a test in diplomacy, he'd gone down in flames. Well,
whatever the Adjo's game was, he wasn't going to play.
Qui-Gon's respect and trust meant everything to him, and
friendships that turned sexual seldom worked out.
It would be a long and difficult trip to Senalta Ipsilon, but a
pampered princeling was no match for a Jedi. Even a Jedi
apprentice, Obi-Wan told himself. And if Qui-Gon wanted a quick
tumble in the cargo hold with Keela, it was really none of his
concern. He leaned back on the pillow and pulled a blanket
around him, feeling suddenly very cold and unsettled.
Qui-Gon was sitting in the cockpit, staring out the front
viewport. How could he have let Keela climb onto his lap in the
galley, he asked himself for the twentieth time. Of course
Obi-Wan would walk in on them at that very moment.
Well, his apprentice had seen worse - although never from him.
Obi-Wan was not easily embarrassed, but his face had turned the
same shade of red as a Molokkan firebird before he'd turned and
fled. He smiled at the image in his mind. He could still make
his worldly padawan blush, he thought, as he softly laughed.
He heard Keela approaching and turned to face him. The young
man had a careless smirk on his face as he flopped into one of
the navigation seats, still looking at Qui-Gon. The expression
made those deep brown eyes look even more provocative.
"He's adorable when he's flustered, have you noticed?"
"Hmmm?" That was the last thing Qui-Gon was expecting to hear.
"Obi-Wan. He's so irresistible like that. I could just eat him
with or without soopaberry syrup." Keela stretched his arms
above his head and slowly rolled his shoulders back and forth,
drawing the thin, soft material of his tunic tightly across his
still hardened nipples.
Qui-Gon paused a moment, unconsciously wetting his lips while
his eyes were drawn to the close fit of Keela's light, silky
tunic. "Yes, there are many who would agree with you."
"But not you? You're with him all the time. I can't believe
that even you could ignore that luscious little package."
"Not so little," murmured Qui-Gon even as he recognized the
trap he'd walked into, and his mind instantly began to look for
ways out of it.
"Oh," Keela laughed accusatorily. "You have noticed.
Well, I'm not surprised."
Qui-Gon called on his tremendous will to prevent himself from
blushing. "I meant.... that nothing about Obi-Wan is little. He
is... well-proportioned..." Qui-Gon decided to stop before he
could dig himself in any deeper. How did he get into this
conversation?
"Does he always bounce like that when he walks, or does he just
do that around you? It's so sexy."
"Keela," Qui-Gon began. "This conversation is not
appropriate...."
The younger man slid to his feet and instantly pressed himself
against Qui-Gon, his hands roaming freely over the Jedi's lower
back, slowly gliding southwards. "Then let's not talk."
The words of protest died as Keela's lips brushed against his.
Qui-Gon floated briefly in an incandescent bubble as his
fingers unconsciously raked through the soft curls to cup the
back of the younger man's head.
Automatically, he opened his mouth to the kiss that followed.
Their tongues stroked back and forth against the other in
building pleasure until Qui-Gon pulled back abruptly.
"Keela," Qui-Gon began and then stopped again, searching for
what he wanted to say. "You are an attractive young man, and
very appealing, but I cannot continue this in good conscience.
Perhaps, under other circumstances ... "
"But... You're not seeing Obi-Wan, are you?"
"No, of course not. Not romantically. We are bound to each
other as friends and as Jedi, but that is all. That is enough.
We trust each other implicitly, and I would do nothing to
breach that."
"Do you love him?"
Qui-Gon ignored his discomfort with the subject as he sought an
answer. "Perhaps. But only platonically, as two dear friends."
"And sex?"
"It would only complicate a relationship such as ours, Keela.
As Jedi we must be able to think clearly in all situations.
When one introduces sex to a relationship, decisions become
motivated by self-serving emotions instead of logic and
personal needs take priority over duty."
"This has been your experience?"
Qui-Gon sighed softly. "I have seen it happen before. With
others."
"And you can't imagine that sharing bodies as well as hearts
could make two people stronger in their devotion to duty, and
to each other. Is sex separate from love?"
Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond and then shut it. He gazed
past Keela at the stars beyond the viewport, a slight frown
marring his face. "What is your interest in Obi-Wan and
myself?" he asked, answering with a question of his own.
"Oh, nothing," answered Keela. "You mean this conversation?
Just arguing for the sake of an argument." He paused and looked
intently at Qui-Gon. "You love him but you won't have sex with
him? Would you have sex with him if you didn't love him?"
The Jedi shook his head. He and his student already shared a
bond that was both unusually strong and deep, and Qui-Gon felt
closer to Obi-Wan than he ever had to anyone else. If he had to
choose a lover, he supposed it wouldn't be difficult to take
his relationship with Obi-Wan one step further, but not under
these circumstances.
"So, you don't want to have sex with him under any
circumstances?"
Qui-Gon remained silent but his eyes shifted slightly as he
watched the stars and thought about the question.
"I have seen hundreds of beings who combine love, sex and work,
and do it exceedingly well," Keela's voice pulled Qui-Gon out
of his thoughts and he looked at the younger man. "For
instance, it is common for the warriors of Ipsilon Minor to
bond with each other as well as fight together. And they're
said to be among the best and fiercest warriors of any world,
because they fight out of honour and love for each other as
well as their people."
Keela cocked his head to the right and peered intently at
Qui-Gon until the older man looked away.
Qui-Gon had heard of the reputation of the Impator Guards of
Ipsilon Minor, who had not been defeated in 300 years. It was
said that their love and fierce protectiveness of each other
made them formidable opponents.
But he could not picture Obi-Wan and himself in that situation.
His beautiful young padawan always had his choice of desirable
partners wherever they went, and he wouldn't begrudge him that.
There was never any indication that he desired Qui-Gon.
His padawan had never so much as even had the requisite crush
on his master. Just a bit of the usual hero-worship that seemed
to fade and disappear before Obi-Wan was 18. When Qui-Gon
finally got around to giving him The Talk, his padawan had
surprised him by telling his old master a thing or two about
sex.
No, there was too much at stake. Their oaths of obedience would
never allow it. Qui-Gon could never allow himself to desire his
padawan, and he would not encourage those feelings in his
student either.
Obi-Wan hadn't realized how hard he was concentrating on his
reading until the knock on his door had him off the bed and on
his feet before his brain could register the noise.
"Obi-Wan, may I come in?" It was Qui-Gon.
He opened the door quietly and stood to one side while Qui-Gon
slipped past him into the room. The young Jedi wandered back to
his perch on the bunk while Qui-Gon claimed the only chair in
the room. All that separated them was a few feet and a polite
silence.
What do his lips taste like? The query, fleeting and unbidden,
had Obi-Wan staring at the pink ridges of flesh that hid
beneath his master's beard and moustache as he waited for him
to speak.
Abruptly, they both began at the same time....
"Master, I'm sorry, I....."
"I owe you an...."
Qui-Gon held up his hand to speak, the faintest smile replacing
the worry in his eyes. "Let me speak, padawan." The older man
took a deep breath and started again. "I owe you an apology for
what happened in the galley earlier. It was inexcusable, and I
would never....."
"No, it's all right," Obi-Wan cut him off with deprecatory
smile. "I may have overreacted."
Qui-Gon smiled and reached over to give his braid an
affectionate tug, stroking it lightly with his thumb and
forefinger before letting it go. "I understand Keela has
already spoken to you about it."
Obi-Wan struggled silently against the icy fingers he felt
tightening around his heart. What had Keela told his master?
That Obi-Wan had been led down the garden path into an
embarrassing situation against his will like an untrained
initiate? How he had committed a diplomatic faux pas with
visiting royalty that could have very serious repercussions in
a different situation? He steeled himself for Qui-Gon's
inevitable reprimand.
"I am also led to believe that you two have come to a personal
understanding," Qui-Gon continued.
"Yes master," Obi-Wan answered as despair wrung all hope from
his words. An understanding, he hoped, that Keela would never
bring up the subject of Obi-Wan's relationship with his master
again.
His teacher's face seemed to pale very slightly as Obi-Wan
watched, but it passed so quickly that he blamed it on the
fluctuation of the overhead lights.
"Very well," Qui-Gon said, placing his hand lightly on
Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I will let you get back to your studies."
Obi-Wan remained seated as his master left, feeling slightly
confused and ill at ease. That conversation hadn't gone at all
like he'd expected it to. It felt as though they had been
talking about two different things. Maybe Keela hadn't told his
master, after all.
He picked up his datapad and stared at it for a moment before
tossing it back down on the bed. Suddenly he found the
stillness distracting and unwelcome, as though someone had
switched off the sun. He missed the bright colours and cheerful
sounds that accompanied Qui-Gon's physical presence.
Obi-Wan snorted quietly into the empty room, listening as the
sound dissipated into the thin air. Funny how much more alive
he felt whenever he was with Qui-Gon. Well, not really that
funny, considering how much time they spent together. Neither
of them had much in the way of friends at the temple, so even
their social time was spent more often than not in each other's
pockets.
Why had Keela asked him if he and Qui-Gon would become lovers
once he became a knight? Obi-Wan slumped against the wall next
to his bunk. The thought of being separated from his master
after his eventual knighting always left him feeling empty and
depressed, and usually he went out of his way to avoid thinking
about it. Even now he tried to push the unwanted musings out of
his mind, but they persisted in tunnelling deeply into its
unacknowledged realms.
His master had never brought up their eventual separation.
They'd never discussed what would happen to them - to him -
once he'd passed his Trials. Obi-Wan knew it was cowardice on
his part that prevented him from asking about it, because he
really didn't want to hear the answer. He didn't want
confirmation that he would lose the man who was his anchor, his
standard for excellence, the voice in his head that kept him
from being alone and kept him from giving up whenever he felt
too tired to go on.
It was bad enough admitting to himself that he was terrified of
losing that comforting voice but Qui-Gon would be disappointed
in him if he knew of his fear, and that he could not bear. It
wasn't fair of Obi-Wan to lay more concerns on his master's
already overburdened shoulders.
It was the nature of the Order that Master and Padawan would
eventually go their separate ways. Thousands of others had
borne that same division over the years without anguish. He and
Qui-Gon could still be friends and see the other on occasion.
In passing. Until the passage of time quietly turned them into
strangers again. Into two totally separate entities.
His master might even be looking forward to it, looking forward
to a new challenge. A new padawan at his side to train,
protecting and caring for Qui-Gon, replacing and erasing
Obi-Wan in his master's thoughts, loving and being loved.
With a small sigh Obi-Wan cleared his mind and pictured the
place he always went to find serenity - a grassy hillside
overlooking a quiet lake at dawn, seated next to his Master.
Qui-Gon told him often enough not to center on his anxieties.
He would live the Moment and consider the future when it
arrived.
As he always did, Obi-Wan carefully bundled up his fears and
dispersed them into the Force. It was only a temporary
solution, but it did make him feel better.
The insistent rumblings in his stomach reminded Obi-Wan that
he'd missed lunch earlier that day. He looked up from his
datapad to discover that his chrono was telling him it was time
for supper already.
As he approached the galley, he could sense his master's
presence as well as Keela's. They had started their meal
without him and were happily engaged in conversation. Obi-Wan
sat across the narrow table from them, helping himself from the
bowls already set out on the table.
Keela was laughing, his eyes locked onto Qui-Gon, who was
amusing their guest with stories of past missions. Obi-Wan ate
quietly as he drifted through the solitude of his own thoughts,
feeling very much like an intruder.
Get used to being alone, he chided himself. He was almost a
knight, ready to strike out on his own, to serve the Order in
his own way. He wouldn't have anyone to hold his hand while he
did it, least of all Qui-Gon.
He chewed his food without tasting it while he watched with
cool detachment as Keela placed juicy bits of fruit in his
master's mouth and listened to his master's laugh as he shook
his head in vain protest. The foolish smile on Qui-Gon's face
belied his objections.
Obi-Wan made quick work of his supper and washed off his plate
and utensils, painfully aware of the giggles behind him. He
couldn't wait until Keela was out of their lives!
His back to the others while he finished his task, Obi-Wan
silently mouthed the litany of serenity, breathing slowly and
evenly. He was just about to achieve that calmness when a soft,
warm, intimate laugh from his master sent it spiraling out of
reach. He set his plate down on the counter a little harder
than he'd meant to and felt their eyes instantly on his back.
"I think I'll practice some forms in the cargo hold before I go
to bed," he announced without turning around.
"If there's enough room, I'll join you," Qui-Gon replied
quickly, standing up from the table. "I could use a good
stretch."
It was unexpected and so very welcome. His master wanted to
spend time with him. Instead of Keela. Childish sentimentality,
he told himself as he shoved aside the sudden happiness. His
master simply wanted to go through some training exercises with
him, which was completely ordinary. But knowing that did
nothing to dispel the warm feeling that spread through his
belly or the smile that he struggled to hide.
Keela fell in behind them as they headed towards the makeshift
training room, much to Obi-Wan's dismay. Being alone with his
master going to be impossible.
It was a small room, but there was enough of it for Keela to
safely watch as long as he stood just inside the door. He
watched, rather than listened, as they decided on which 'saber
forms would be best suited to the tight space they were
allowed.
The older Jedi began stripping off his tunics and moving into
his warm-up routine. They had settled on two forms, which could
easily be done without a lightsabre and required precise
counterpoint movements. Good choices for close quarters. The
younger man seemed to hesitate before finally removing his
tunics.
Keela leaned his head back against the wall, his arms folded
over his chest, but he kept his eyes on the Jedi. They started
slowly, stretching, getting used to their personal space, but
in no time their movements were flowing together as arms and
legs moved smoothly around their counterparts, each man deftly
anticipating the other's moves. The room was silent except for
the soft whisper of bodies passing each other, harsh breathing
and the occasional klack of a boot heel.
He couldn't have looked away from the two sparring warriors
even if the ship had suddenly sprang a leak. Limber muscles
flexing across bare torsos won his particular admiration, but
those bulging leg muscles beneath the clinging leggings were
almost just as inviting. Since they were totally oblivious to
his presence, Keela let himself enjoy the performance before
him with all of his senses.
He closed his eyes and let the emotions settle around him,
feeling the peacefulness and joy that flowed from the graceful
dancers in front of him. Tendrils of rich blues and silky
golden hues radiated from their bodies, and shimmering threads
of silver and crimson bound them together. He opened his eyes
and on their faces he saw tightly focused concentration that
bordered on ecstasy as they passed each other within a hair's
breadth but never touched, moving as one. Keela held his breath
as he watched. They were beautiful in their perfection.
He watched Qui-Gon, drinking in the large muscular arms and the
firm pectorals as the master moved his arms back and forth. His
movements were confident and smooth, like the rolling swell of
a calm sea. Each step flowed flawlessly into the next in a
seamless pattern. It was like watching a gently flowing river,
calm yet powerful.
Unlike Obi-Wan, whose motions were quick and sharp. He wasn't
as broad-chested as the older man, but sleek and still very
well muscled. Very well muscled, Keela murmured to himself with
approval as he appraised the hard abdominals and the
nicely-shaped gluterals. He was just a little too lean, but
very flexible. He watched the young Jedi dart in and out,
twisting and turning like a flame feasting on a dry log.
Keela was surprised later to find out that he had stood there
watching for over two hours. He was so engrossed in the scene
before him that he hadn't noticed it slowing down until the two
Jedi finally stood still, bowing slightly to each other. The
two men stood together, catching their breath quietly as they
toweled the sweat off.
Qui-Gon grasped his student's shoulder firmly and nodded his
approval as he accepted his tunic and belt from the younger
man. Obi-Wan returned his smile and made his excuses for the
night, wishing Qui-Gon and Keela a good evening. Qui-Gon caught
himself gazing at Obi-Wan as the young man walked away,
marveling at the cocky sway of his hips.
Qui-Gon then turned and bid Keela good night, relieved when
their guest made no protest or move to follow him as he headed
towards the ship's forward. He finished sending a brief mission
update to the Council, and ten minutes later he was on his way
to his cabin, looking forward to a good night's sleep.
The ship's design was plain and economical, cramming the most
usage into the least amount of space possible. The four cabins
were barely larger than some of the broom closets Qui-Gon had
seen in his travels, but they were sufficient and placed side
by side and across from each other.
With more disappointment than surprise, he caught the barest
glimpse of Keela slipping into Obi-Wan's room as he made his
way to his own.
Qui-Gon stepped inside and closed the door to his cabin with a
heavy heart. Keela was an undeniably lively and attractive
young man, and Obi-Wan's own immeasurable charms attracted
potential lovers like moths to a flame.
He and Obi-Wan had no rules or restrictions about sex during
missions. He assumed that Obi-Wan had an active sex life, but
Qui-Gon had never received even the slightest rumour about his
padawan's behavior during their time away from Coruscant. Or
even on Coruscant, for that matter. Obi-Wan was very discreet.
He also knew that his student was an honourable man with more
than enough common sense needed to keep his activities from
interfering with their missions.
He would sooner pull out his own tongue than pry into his
padawan's private life. Oddly enough, although they had at
times shared minute facts about their personal relationships,
they had avoided discussing this aspect of their lives in any
detail. This was in stark contrast to the fact that they had
shared just about every other part of themselves over the past
ten years as Obi-Wan had grown from a boy to a man.
The boy had been so open and eager in those early days, holding
nothing back and giving his absolute trust and devotion to his
Master. These days although still trusting and devoted, the man
was much more self-contained, solving his problems without
Qui-Gon's help. He approved of the man, but sometimes he missed
the boy.
Keela seemed determined to bed one of them. He wondered if the
young Senaltan appreciated his Obi-Wan's mischievous spirit and
passion for life, or whether he just wanted a warm and willing
body. Such a waste if that was all it was.
He wasn't jealous, he told himself again. It was only concern
for Obi-Wan's welfare, and his wish to see his friend and
student accorded the respect he deserved from others.
Keela's silly comments were getting to him, he told himself.
There was no weight to any of them. Nothing had changed between
he and Obi-Wan today, nor would it tomorrow. Then why, he
wondered, were they making him feel so restless?
Obi-Wan toweled off his hair as he stepped out of the 'fresher
and into the sleeping area. He looked up and... immediately
shoved the towel down around his hips.
"What are you doing here?" he all but choked.
"I just wanted to talk to you," replied his visitor. A careless
smirk crossed his face as his eyes took uninvited liberties
with the other man's body. Keela leaned back against the wall
and stretched his legs in front of him to make himself more
comfortable on the bed.
Obi-Wan took a second to collect his thoughts before he opened
his mouth. "It is impolite to enter someone's private room
without knocking and asking permission first."
"But you didn't answer the door."
"Then you didn't get permission to enter, did you? I would like
you to leave."
Keela remained where he was, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan - or
rather, on Obi-Wan's towel. Even more specifically, on what
might be under that towel. His expression was unchanged.
"If I went out and knocked, would you let me back in?"
"No. I'm getting ready for meditation and then sleep," Obi-Wan
told him truthfully. "Please excuse me," he said, intending to
open the door for Keela.
"You don't like me," the small, suddenly child-like voice
whined.
Obi-Wan stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. How could he
suddenly feel like the lowest form of swamp life when he hadn't
done anything wrong? He took several deep breaths and turned to
face Keela with the word 'defeat' stamped across his forehead.
"I don't...."
"I need some advice."
Obi-Wan nodded for him to continue.
"How would you... um, approach Qui-Gon?"
"Approach?" Obi-Wan resisted grinding his teeth together and
carefully eased his breath out through his nose. He was keenly
aware that he was standing in the middle of his room nearly
naked, having a conversation about sex between his master and
the lovely young stranger who was stretched out on his bed. He
forced his hands to remain still at his sides as he shook his
head. "I don't know, Keela."
"Well, what do you think he would want in a lover?"
Obi-Wan thought about the question, never taking his eyes off
Keela. Maybe an answer was all that was needed to get rid of
this pest.
The padawan had seen many potential lovers flirting with
Qui-Gon over the years, but could not recall ever having
actually seen him with anyone in particular. He really had no
idea where his Master's tastes ran. How was that possible, he
wondered?
How was it possible that he knew so much about Qui-Gon, from
his tuneless humming in the shower every morning to his
collection of those ugly little carved figurines - of which
just about every planet they'd ever visited had some variation,
but he knew nothing about his Master's love life? They'd even
shared private moments of absurdity that no one else knew
about... Like that time on Ap'lta when they were travelling by
speeder and Qui-Gon lost his robe because he was standing up
with his arms outstretched looking like a great gawky bird
flapping its wings. The wind had carried it a significant
distance by the time they'd found it. Far from chastened, they
sat on the ground next to the speeder and laughed together
until the tears were rolling down their cheeks.
Obi-Wan was chuckling quietly to himself when a slight movement
from Keela brought him back to the present. And to the question
he'd been asked. He coughed discreetly into his hand to hide,
he hoped, his straying thoughts. In his head he quickly ran
through all the things he knew about his master.
"Honesty above all else, I think. Integrity. Self-confidence.
Generosity. Feelings that go deeper than simple desire."
The more perfect his master sounded, the worse Obi-Wan felt. He
knew it was wrong and that he should be proud of his master's
attributes, but he also knew that his own were flawed in
comparison - that as hard as he tried, he would never measure
up to Qui-Gon's standards. He shivered and wrapped his arms
around himself, searching for warmth to stave off the cold.
"And you love him," stated Keela.
"Of course! "Obi-Wan answered curtly. "How could anyone not
love him?"
"And you want him?"
"No. We are not having that conversation again."
Keela rose from the bed and moved towards Obi-Wan. "I saw him
watching you today," he purred. "He wanted you. I could tell he
wanted to put his hands on you," he whispered as he let his
fingertip trail lightly over Obi-Wan's chest, scraping gently
across one hard cinnamon-coloured nub, and down....
Obi-Wan grabbed the fingers that mocked him and thrust them
away from him in a vise-like grip. Keela moved closer so that
their hips were nearly touching.
"What do you think his beard would feel like...." Keela
whispered. His lips hovered near Obi-Wan's neck, so close that
his warm breath raised tiny goosebumps on the skin where the
neck met the shoulder.
"Out," Obi-Wan growled, one hand opening the door, the other
roughly pushing Keela through it. "Good evening," he nodded and
closed the door. The last thing he saw before the door clicked
shut was Keela's smiling face.
Obi-Wan remained standing by the door, trembling slightly as
the adrenaline flooded his system. Unconsciously his hand slid
up the side of his neck to scratch it slightly, the ghost of a
beard making his skin tingle. He could even smell the familiar
scent of his master lingering in the air.
Whenever he was upset about something, or sometimes after a
separation from his master, he always found himself anxious to
see Qui-Gon and be near him. Being close enough to breathe in
that unique smell that clung to him always made him relax. It
was probably the same with all padawans. Perhaps some type of
parental bonding instinct.
Qui-Gon often indulged him in this, but he suspected his
master's affection for him was no more than the duty of a
master towards his padawan - the same affection that other
masters showed their padawans. Still, he appreciated the
kindness.
As Keela's comments echoed through his mind, an old forgotten
memory rose to the surface. He recalled how he had lived in
terror during his first few months as a padawan, of being taken
away from Qui-Gon. The older padawans told frightening stories
to their younger peers about apprentices who'd been forcibly
separated from their masters and reassigned to new ones or
kicked out of the Order altogether for falling in love with
their masters. It had terrified him enough to cause frequent
nightmares as a young teenager, and he swore to himself that no
one would ever have cause to remove him from his master.
Obi-Wan made sure the door was locked before he lowered the
lights and returned to the bed. He stripped off the towel and
lay down, his meditations forgotten. How had Keela managed to
fill his mind with so much turmoil after so many years, he
wondered? Unless it was already there, waiting for the right
key to release it.
Slowly, he stroked the half-hard erection that their
conversation had roused and ran fingers over his aching
nipples. But his own touch couldn't ease the cold, deep
emptiness he felt. He gave up and rolled over on his side,
trying to clear his mind and let sleep take him.
Obi-Wan was alone in the galley the next morning when Qui-Gon
entered. The older Jedi took a quick appraising look at his
apprentice, noting the uncharacteristic dark lines under his
eyes. "You're up early," he commented stiffly, regretting the
accusatory tone at once.
Obi-Wan nodded at him but poured tea into the cups he'd already
set on the table without a word.
"Where's Keela?" Qui-Gon dug a little deeper. It wasn't like
Obi-Wan to be so quiet.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Trapped in his room with no escape, I hope,"
he said, unable to mask his annoyance.
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing.
Perhaps Obi-Wan hadn't spent the night with Keela after all, he
mused. He enjoyed that sweet taste of satisfaction in his mouth
briefly before washing it down with his tea. Qui-Gon watched
the younger man move around the tiny kitchen, preparing
breakfast. Even in these tight quarters, just the two of them,
his student moved so easily, using his hips to shift his weight
so he could economize his movements. Keela was right, he
thought with amusement. Obi-Wan did bounce.
"Why would you wish that?" he said finally.
"I'm sorry, Master. I find his presence a little distracting,
and the ship is very small..."
"He is persistent, isn't he?" Qui-Gon answered, letting a
slight smile curve his lips.
Obi-Wan released his breath in a snort but said nothing.
"Short of your suggestion that we lock him away, I think we're
going to have to put up with him for a while longer." Qui-Gon
paused and took another sip as he watched Obi-Wan set more
dishes down on the table. "He cannot force us to do anything we
don't want to do."
"I'm afraid he's been testing my patience," Obi-Wan admitted
with the hint of a frown.
"Oh?" asked Qui-Gon, raising an eyebrow.
"He's been - " Obi-Wan paused, "rather uninhibited in showing
his physical affection."
"How uninhibited, padawan?"
Obi-Wan sat down at the table and poured his own tea, clearing
his throat. "Just some, ah, touching. I've been trying to be
polite."
Qui-Gon sipped his tea while he quietly studied Obi-Wan's
profile. His student was quietly studying the tea in his cup.
"He also wanted to know how to seduce you."
Qui-Gon's tea offered a return trip through his nose, as he
struggled to re-swallow it. "I am very curious about your
answer," he said at last.
Obi-Wan grinned. "I gave him my opinion of your best qualities.
How he chooses to seduce you is up to him."
Qui-Gon looked into those laughing blue-green eyes and felt a
pleasurable tingle that began in his scalp and crawled down his
spine. It wouldn't be hard to sit here for the rest of the day
and just stare into those eyes.
"Please don't give him any more tips, padawan," he chuckled.
They both turned as they heard Keela humming softly in the
corridor outside the galley. The young man entered, impeccably
dressed yet wearing the relaxed posture of one just tumbled
from his bed. Morning greetings were exchanged and breakfast
was dished out.
"Not a morning person, Keela?" Qui-Gon asked cheerfully. Keela
replied with a shake of his head and a yawn. When he received
no further answer, Qui-Gon turned back to his apprentice.
"Would you like some help with your Bet'lun classical
literature studies today?"
He was more relieved than he cared to admit when Obi-Wan
eagerly accepted his help. It would give them both an excuse to
avoid their unpredictable guest. And he felt faintly pleased
that the young man still enjoyed their time together. Not that
Obi-Wan had ever turned away his help with anything. But lately
it was happening more often that he looked at Obi-Wan and saw a
knight where his padawan had been standing, and he wondered
just how much time they had left together.
Obi-Wan retrieved his course material from his room while
Qui-Gon took care of the breakfast dishes. Keela remained at
the table, scrolling through a newsreader.
For most of the morning Obi-Wan and his Master read and
discussed the merits of Bet'lun classical literature, dissected
its rhythm and debated its role in the greater scheme of
things.
His master loved literature of any type and Obi-Wan could feel
his happiness through their bond. It was like a warm and
comforting hum. The sound of Qui-Gon's voice never failed to
make an impression on him, but now that rich, melodious
baritone rumbled in his ear, giving Bet'lun classical
literature a beauty he could never have imagined by himself.
The voice was hypnotizing and for a moment he floated on its
soft deep tones through a different plane of existence where
there was only sound and vibration and warmth. It was rapture.
Once, he glanced up at Keela to find the young man staring back
at him, lips quirked upwards in some secret amusement.
It was getting close to lunchtime when Obi-Wan finally put down
the datapad he'd been writing on and stretched. "I can't think
straight anymore," he announced, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"The Da-aalos don't make any sense."
Keela picked up the discarded datapad and looked at it. "Oh
yes, one of my favourites," he said, almost to himself.
"They're like geometric puzzles. The meaning of the poem
changes depending on which pattern you form with the lines.
This one reads best in a diamond shape..." And with that he
quickly rearranged the lines. "... and also as a
split-triangle. But the diamond is best."
He offered the datapad back to Obi-Wan, letting his fingers rub
against the young Jedi's as their hands and eyes met.
Obi-Wan ignored it but looked at the datapad in surprise. He
showed it to Qui-Gon. "There are seven classic shapes you can
use, not including freehand," he said to Keela. "How do you
know which one to use?"
"It's in the rhythm," Keela replied, and began tapping his
fingers on the table to back up his words. "They don't all fit
to every rhythm, unless it's a really good one. The good ones
fit into several shapes, but their meaning changes slightly to
fit the shape. Besides making lovely poetry, they're also quite
useful for sending coded messages."
Obi-Wan looked at his master who wore one of his frequent
enigmatic smiles as he typed on the datapad in front of him.
Obi-Wan reread his assignment and rearranged the two poems into
the correct shapes, nodding and muttering to himself with
satisfaction a half hour later.
The young Jedi pushed his chair back from the table and palmed
his tired eyes. He looked at Keela and wondered what other
surprises were lurking beneath that vapid exterior. Keela's
skill with the Da-aalos had reminded him that their passenger
was a person and more than just a pretty face with behavioral
problems. He resolved to try and make up for his past coolness
by indulging Keela in what he guessed might be one of the young
man's favourite topics.
"What type of poetry does Senalta Ipsilon produce?" he asked
while stretching his legs under the table.
Keela lowered his newsreader to his lap and looked thoughtful.
"We speak our songs and sing our poetry," he answered. "Not
much of it is written down, since it is the sound of the voice
- its inflection, tone and emotions - that count more than the
words themselves. The most popular subjects are love, of
course, and the creative lifeforce. Often they are combined."
The young man took a sip of cold tea and made a face at his
mug. "There is one that I especially like," he said, his lips
twisting upwards as he stared towards the ceiling, calling up
the passage in his memory. "It's fairly old."
"Across the sleeping furrows
I call the buried seed,
And blade and bud and blossom
Awaken at my need.
"Within the dying ashes
I blow the sacred spark,
And make the hearts of lovers
To leap against the dark." **
Keela's face held a whimsical expression as he recited the
lines from memory. He studied the Jedi, who were both looking
at him. "But our modern poets are more practical in their
subjects and have a gift for both images and simplicity."
"My coursework doesn't include them," Obi-Wan said with a
shrug.
"More's the pity," replied Keela before leaning back in his
chair. He concentrated for just a moment while he made sure he
had the verse straight in his head. He sat back up and looked
at them. "You'll like this one."
A young man who overly lusted
Was frequently open and thrusted.
He lay down with ease
And pulled up his knees,
For his teacher he thoroughly trusted.
Obi-Wan clamped his mouth shut, feeling the heat rushing
upwards from his throat to his hairline. He didn't know whether
to be insulted or not. He flashed a quick look at Qui-Gon, who
was staring back down at his datapad and shaking with silent
laughter, even though he bit his lower lip and tried to hide
it. Then he looked up at Keela, who stared back at him with a
comical grin.
It was too much. Obi-Wan snickered and shook his head. "I see
why Senalta poetry isn't taught at the Temple," he grinned.
They lingered over lunch, still discussing the poetry of
various cultures. Once the dishes had been put away, the two
Jedi went back to the cargo hold to meditate and Keela returned
to his quarters with a datapad and some poetry chips.
"Am I taking him too seriously?" Obi-Wan asked as they folded
their robes under them and prepared for their face to face
meditation.
Qui-Gon looked at him with a wry grin. "As I told you earlier,
Keela is harmless. He cannot force us to do - or feel -
anything we do not wish to."
"So, you wished for him to sit on your lap?" Obi-Wan bit his
lip as soon as the words left his mouth. Qui-Gon cut off his
stammered apology with a wave of his hand.
"I was being polite," he said with a soft chuckle, using his
student's earlier defense.
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and shot him a look that Qui-Gon
had come to recognize over the years as disbelief.
"I did not question you when the boot was on the other foot, my
student. Should I believe you welcomed his... attention...
despite your comments?"
"No, of course not. I'm sorry..."
"But he is a handsome young man, is he not?"
"I suppose," muttered Obi-Wan.
"But not your type?"
His student shrugged first and then shook his head.
Qui-Gon let himself stare into those eyes again, drawn by them,
feeling that addictive tingle again. He wanted to ask what
type, exactly, Obi-Wan might prefer, but he held back his
words. "Let us meditate on serenity and the success of our next
mission," said Qui-Gon, smoothly changing the subject.
"Afterwards we will work on some contact training if we can
find enough room."
The cargo hold hadn't grown any bigger overnight. The contact
training lessons were mainly theoretical - toned down from
their usual practice, since their normal hand-to-hand routine
in this room would have had bodies crashing into walls instead
of the floor mats where they were supposed to land.
But that was all right. It was instructive, even if it wasn't
burning off Obi-Wan's restless energy, and he had Qui-Gon's
undivided attention again, which was always good.
Qui-Gon stood behind him, using his right foot to nudge his
legs further apart, while his hands twisted his upper body
slightly to the left and down. He could feel his master's beard
against the side of his face and smell the warm, earthy scent
of his hair.
Before he could stop himself, he was turning his face into that
thick curtain of hair, inhaling the fragrance of the silky
strands. Qui-Gon pulled back to look at him, one eyebrow raised
in a quizzical expression. Obi-Wan ruthlessly suppressed an
embarrassingly strong urge to laugh.
"Sorry," he gasped. "Just stretching my shoulder," and he
brought a hand up to knead the back of his neck.
Qui-Gon took his place in front of Obi-Wan again, their faces
inches away. Obi-Wan narrowed his focus to the outcome of the
lesson. At his master's signal, he repeated the moves they'd
been working on for the past two hours, concentrating mainly on
their footwork.
Obi-Wan hooked his left foot behind the older Jedi's ankle
while dropping to the floor and pushing himself off with his
hands. He missed his target but regained his feet easily and
deflected an attack to his knees by launching himself upward in
a tight ball. He should have struck again while still in
mid-air, but didn't, and came down on his feet just long enough
for Qui-Gon to sweep them out from under him.
Obi-Wan tried turning as he went down. He caught Qui-Gon off
guard with one foot, bringing the big man down as well, hard on
top of his right hip, and driving him further into the metal
floor.
"Ow," Obi-Wan complained finally when Qui-Gon made no move to
get up. If it hadn't actually been painful, Obi-Wan wouldn't
have minded lying there, arms and legs akimbo, for a little
while longer. It was actually quite peaceful lying on the
floor. With Qui-Gon.
The weight lifted off his body as Qui-Gon rolled carefully to
one side and stood. Before Obi-Wan could do the same, Qui-Gon's
hands were supporting him from behind, lifting him off the
floor and helping to keep the weight off his injured right
side.
He felt his master's hand slide from his waist to his hip,
probing for injuries, and had to stop himself from leaning back
into his touch. Quickly his mind raced, processing the
sensations of touch and smell and turning them into pleasurable
feelings, but separating them from the entity he knew as his
master. It was no different than any touch between them in the
past, he told himself. And yet it was different. Something had
changed. But, perhaps that something was nothing more than his
own perception.
Suddenly the hand left his hip and the body behind him moved
away. Obi-Wan hadn't realized how warm Qui-Gon's body was until
the cold air rushed in to fill the space left by its absence.
He shivered as it hit his thin, sweat-soaked undertunic.
"Can you walk?"
Obi-Wan opened mouth to answer, but nothing came out. So he
nodded instead, bracing himself against his Master as Qui-Gon
placed his arm around his waist to support him. The pleasant
heat returned as their bodies drew together. Obi-Wan wanted to
wrap himself around that warmth and let it drive the cold out
of him. He felt a jolt of pleasure ripple upwards along his
spine, followed by dozens of tiny tremors.
He turned to look at his master and saw that strange puzzled
look again. "What?" he croaked. Obi-Wan felt the tension in the
big arm around his waist, the muscles convulsing as if they
were at war with themselves, and the more he stared at those
blue eyes, the more they lured him into their endless
depths....
....And towards those lips, so close to his own, moist and full
and parted so slightly, looking almost sad somehow. Obi-Wan
leaned into them slowly, feeling their pull, giving Qui-Gon all
the time he needed to pull back, and was exhilarated to find
them suddenly pressing gently against his own.
They were soft. And warm. And sweet as sun-ripened fruit. And
they promised him a hope that Obi-Wan wasn't prepared to
relinquish.
He could have stayed, locked forever in that kiss. But he had
to know. Reluctantly, he pulled back so he could look into
Qui-Gon's eyes. Those electric blue eyes that he would follow
anywhere, and already had. He saw joy in them, as well as
surprise mixed with confusion, but he knew he could make that
disappear over time.
Obi-Wan couldn't stop the foolish grin that spread across his
face.
Qui-Gon stared at him, trying to think of something to say, but
his thoughts were racing through his brain too fast to hold on
to. Instead, he ran one large thumb slowly across Obi-Wan's
cheekbone, then drew him forward into a fierce bone-crushing
hug.
He heard a muffled groan from the lips pressed tightly against
his collarbone, and all but purred as the younger man stroked
the long strands of his mane. One gentle but insistent pull on
those strands was the only command he needed to dip his head
closer until he could meet the soft, warm lips that parted so
easily beneath his.
Qui-Gon loosened his embrace to run tantalizing fingers up and
down Obi-Wan's spine, causing the younger man to arch against
him unconsciously and then to laugh even as their tongues were
introducing themselves to each other. The Force hummed brightly
between them.
He skimmed his hands lightly over Obi-Wan's ticklish ribs and
other sensitive areas, determined to prolong the beauty of his
student's laughter. Qui-Gon had discovered Obi-Wan's weaknesses
by accident throughout years of physical contact. The kiss
broke off as Qui-Gon ruthlessly explored and attacked his
trapped student.
The smaller body twisted and squirmed against him in delicious
futility. Qui-Gon stepped up his attack until Obi-Wan was
helplessly doubled over, his breathing harsh and shallow and
his laughter sounding more like sobs as tears streaked down his
face.
And as suddenly as it began it was over. Qui-Gon was panting
with exertion, arms still wrapped tightly around Obi-Wan, but
looking over his shoulder at the doorway.
"Don't let me interrupt you." Keela was leaning against a wall
just a few feet away from them, his arms crossed over his
chest. "I was bored anyway, and you two are much more
interesting than poetry." Qui-Gon could hear the smirk in the
young man's voice as the Jedi disentangled themselves.
Obi-Wan straightened and stepped away from him, his face once
more a mask of calm. Qui-Gon was still reconciling himself to
the loss of Obi-Wan's warm, lean body squirming against his
own, and it was making him feel slightly off-balance. He could
feel Obi-Wan's presence in his mind, bright and pulsing with
arousal. It was disconcerting. And it was going to start
driving him insane very shortly.
"I am going to get cleaned up and changed," he mumbled on his
way out the door to no one in particular, "and I'll see you
both later at supper."
Dinner was hastily prepared and eaten quietly. Keela carried on
the conversation mostly by himself, his questions to the Jedi
being met with short, distracted answers.
It didn't seem to bother the young Senaltan that his
dinner-mates forced their food down in uncomfortable silence,
or that his witty dinner conversation was going almost entirely
unnoticed. He carried on with the ease of long practice,
describing in tiny detail the wedding he'd witnessed days
before on Ipsilon Gamma 7. In and around the wedding
description, he divulged endless palatial gossip until the
younger of the two Jedi stood abruptly and said his good
evenings.
As Obi-Wan disappeared down the corridor, Qui-Gon rose to
deposit his dishes in the washer, formulating his own escape in
his head. There were things he needed to say to his student
before any misunderstandings about the afternoon's events were
allowed to grow.
He turned to Keela with a nod and left the galley, lost in
thought as he walked towards their rooms. Qui-Gon stood outside
Obi-Wan's cabin, feeling the peaceful comfort of deep
meditation inside. It was an unwritten rule that meditation was
never disturbed unless it was a life-threatening situation, so
Qui-Gon returned to his own room to wait.
It would be roughly eleven hours before they came out of
hyperspace, and two more after that before they landed on
Senalta Ipsilon. Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his bunk, unable to
forget the smell of Obi-Wan's skin, the feel of his hair
against Qui-Gon's face, or the delightful shudders that his
student's laughter had sent rippling through his body.
That beautiful laughter. How it had filled his heart, flowing
into all of the nearly forgotten empty spaces, and forcing out
years of cynicism and sadness. He needed to hear it again.
It had been such a long time since he'd truly desired another.
And yet, while there was no one that he loved or trusted more,
or felt closer to than Obi-Wan, he still harboured doubts.
Could he risk losing all that? He closed his eyes and
concentrated on the moment, feeling a vague sense of rightness
like a bright golden glow from within that expanded until it
filled him.
Qui-Gon was startled from his thoughts by a light tapping on
his door. He knew immediately that it was Keela. The young man
ducked into his room before Qui-Gon had a chance to open the
door all the way.
He closed the door softly and turned around just as Keela's
soft tunic was hitting the floor. Without missing a beat, the
Jedi scooped it up and handed it back to him.
"Sit," he ordered, motioning to the single chair as he turned
and seated himself once more on the bed. "And tell me what I
can do for you."
Keela opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again with an
awkward grin. "I thought we might resume where we left off
yesterday." He began to rise but was stopped a determined look
from the Jedi Master. He settled back into the chair, still
holding his tunic in his lap.
"Keela, I am afraid that is not possible," Qui-Gon told him. "I
beg your forgiveness for my thoughtless actions, but we cannot
continue this."
Keela stared at him for so long that Qui-Gon began to wonder
whether his guest had fallen into a trance. "I must speak to
Obi-Wan before he goes to bed," Qui-Gon told him, "so I will
ask you to make this visit as brief as possible." Suddenly
Keela's lips quirked upwards in a grin and he rose to his feet.
With a nod, he bid Qui-Gon a pleasant evening, and let himself
out.
Qui-Gon shook his head in bemusement. Gently, he checked on
Obi-Wan's mental state twice more before he sensed at last that
the younger man had finished his meditation and was standing
outside of Qui-Gon's cabin door.
Qui-Gon got up and hastily moved the chair closer to the bed
before he opened the door.
Obi-Wan stood silently, staring at him with one hand barely
raised to knock on the door. Qui-Gon could feel the faint hum
of the Force as his student used it to explore the room, slight
surprise showing on his face when he found that the room was
empty save for the man in front of him.
"Master, I..."
Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder and drew him into the room
before he could continue, guiding him towards the chair but not
letting go of his arm. He could feel the eyes breaking down his
weak outer defenses, sweeping over his face and the surface of
his thoughts with the gentleness of a feather. Qui-Gon was
unable to move or think while those eyes examined him.
"M-m-master...," Obi-Wan finally spluttered before coming to a
confused halt.
Their faces hovered so closely together they might have shared
the same breath if either one of them had been breathing.
Qui-Gon felt the faint twitches of a grin betray itself on his
face. His nerves had begun registering the slight touches along
his arms, down his back and across the uncovered skin of his
neck. Hands at the back of his head were pulling him gently
forward, asking silent permission while drawing his face down
very slowly until their lips touched. Softly. Reverently.
Exquisitely.
Qui-Gon felt a simmering warmth flow through him, moving in
waves outward from the centre of his being to his fingers and
toes, ears and nose. He heard himself groan as a shy but
persistent tongue sought entry to his mouth. It slipped inside,
filling his senses with the younger man's arousing elixir. So
familiar now, their tongues flirted and danced in mutual
pleasure.
Somehow they had managed to move across the room from the door
to the bed - a fact that only registered when Qui-Gon felt the
edge of the bunk press against the back of his knees. He eased
himself down onto the hard mattress, bringing Obi-Wan down to
lay next to him. Still joined at the lips, the invading tongue
was greedily exploring every taste, every curve and corner of
his mouth, urging his surrender.
Qui-Gon finally pulled away, taking a quick lung full of oxygen
before resuming. He teased Obi-Wan's chin with his tongue and
teeth, enjoying the feel of Obi-Wan squirming and gasping
beneath him.
"Obi-Wan," he said, reluctantly shortening his kisses so he
could speak. "What did you want to talk about?"
Awareness slowly returned to Obi-Wan's glazed eyes. "I thought
Keela was here," he said, turning his head to look around the
room for traces of his rival.
"You wanted to talk to Keela?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice almost
choking with surprise.
"No," Obi-Wan declared, quickly curtailing that assumption. "I
wanted to talk to you. Alone." He pushed himself into a sitting
position on the bed. Qui-Gon sat up as well, waiting for the
younger man to speak.
Obi-Wan stared at the hands that rested on his knees for long
moments. Finally, he met Qui-Gon's eyes and reached for one of
his hands, holding it between his own two. "I wanted to tell
you that I love you," he whispered, almost too softly to hear.
"I've been thinking lately about how much you mean to me, and I
find I've had these feelings for you for quite a long time.
It's taken me a while to admit this to myself." Obi-Wan gave a
short chuckle and cleared his throat while nervously brushing
his thumbs over Qui-Gon's hand. "I feel complete when I'm with
you, and I don't care to be apart from you. Whatever you decide
here, you've always had my heart and soul. If you want me, I
would like to share the rest with you."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and released all of the dread he'd been
harbouring about the feelings between them. Obi-Wan's admission
had fanned the cautious flame of desire within him, and he
smiled as the fire spread.
"My heart and soul," Qui-Gon murmured, brushing his fingers of
his free hand through the soft spiky hair and settling on the
slender lock of hair that sang of their years together. He drew
the fine strands to his lips and reverently kissed it. Downward
the fingers slid, skating past the end of the braid until they
traced the edges of the rough material that covered the heart
pounding with a tempo that matched his own.
Qui-Gon's rested his hands for a moment at Obi-Wan's waist,
ordering their trembling to cease. He almost laughed aloud at
himself for this unusual show of nerves, but he bit it back
sharply and unfastened the sash that held his tunics together.
He looked up into the beautiful face that mirrored his own
emotions and knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the same jittery
rush of adrenaline.
Warm, full lips brushed against his own, sucking first his
upper lip and then lingering on the bottom lip before they
traced the thin line of hair along his jaw to his ear, where
the licking and sucking continued to feed his growing desire.
He brushed his hands across Obi-Wan's bare shoulders, sliding
the tunic off as he did so. The younger man shifted his arms to
allow the cloth to fall the rest of the way and Qui-Gon pressed
his lips to the soft flesh that covered the lean muscled
shoulders. It tasted faintly of salt and soapbark.
He nuzzled the exposed skin, leaving it damp from shoulder to
throat as his palms rubbed mindless patterns against Obi-Wan's
back. The hot uneven breath in his ear stole his attention and
only just barely cognizant of the hands that tugged at his own
clothing as well as his own unconsious compliance.
Qui-Gon couldn't tell how much time had passed when his focus
abruptly shifted to his surroundings, and he surfaced from this
sea of sensual bliss. They were both lying face to face and
half-naked, taking turns at caressing and exploring whichever
body part was closest.
Qui-Gon propped himself up on one arm and led with his chin,
rubbing his stiff, wiry beard against Obi-Wan's flat belly and
holding the young man down on the bed as he yelped and tried to
wriggle free. He nipped lightly at the hardened flesh around
the navel, taming the small cries that followed with his
tongue. Obi-Wan's fingers combed through his hair, smoothing
and petting it, begging for more.
Obi-Wan arched into him as he pulled slightly away, refusing to
give up even the slightest contact between their bodies. He
shifted their bodies slightly so that they lay face to face
once more and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, holding him
closely and simply enjoying the newness of the feel and smell
of the body next to him.
Qui-Gon drew back very slightly to look at the beloved face
next to him. Obi-Wan peered back at him through slitted eyelids
and Qui-Gon suddenly felt himself falling. Air raced past him
at dizzying speed, but he wasn't frightened. Just curious. As
he fell, he felt his body stretching and dissipating until his
essence was nothing but a shimmering cloud of vapour, racing
towards a firey ball of unimaginable brilliance. He surrendered
to the inevitable impact with complete joy and a sense of
wonder. His soul's own annihilation was nothing short of
euphoric.
He was free of his body's confinement, his essence - no, their
essence - reaching across forever as each cell eased into one,
completing each other. In the Moment they were suspended above
time, in a place where there was no sound, no sight, no touch.
They were two luminous beings existing as one.
Returning to the present was like slamming into a brick wall,
both surprising and painful. Or, it would have been painful if
not for the body twined around his. Their hips were still
rocking gently together as they wound down from their peak,
their bodies wrapped together so tightly around each other that
there was no space between them. And still it wasn't close
enough, Qui-Gon thought. Not as close as they had been but a
moment ago. He felt tears catching in his beard while the rest
of his sweaty body shook with exhaustion. They were both
breathing hard, but neither was willing to give up their hold
on the other.
"What was that?" Obi-Wan gasped without moving, his voice
sounding muffled and drained from where his face was pressed
tightly against Qui-Gon's neck.
Qui-Gon listened to their ragged breathing for a few moments
before he answered. "I think we've just bonded," he said
softly.
Obi-Wan moved just enough to look at his lover's face but not
enough to separate their bodies. A dozen emotions flitted
across his face but he settled on an incredulous laugh that
ended in a hiccuping sob. Qui-Gon immediately reached out to
comfort him, stroking his fingers across his cheek and wiping
away the new tears.
Obi-Wan moved his hips slightly and Qui-Gon could feel the
sticky warmth that marked the earlier union of their souls.
"Is all of our sex going to be like that?" asked Obi-Wan. He
was smiling, but his voice was still shaky.
"I don't know," he said. He pressed Obi-Wan back against the
mattress as he kissed him. He plunged his tongue past the
parted lips and forcibly ravaged the willing mouth below him.
He pulled away only so he could sample the flavour of the young
man's throat.
"Will the Council separate us, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan barely
whispered. A slight touch of fear clouded his voice.
Qui-Gon shivered slightly at the vibration beneath his lips. He
closed his eyes as the thrill of it slid deliciously down his
spine. Lightly he traced a path with his fingers across the
skin over Obi-Wan's heart and then leaned over to gently kiss
it.
"There are no rules prohibiting or governing a relationship
between a master and a senior padawan. Not that it would matter
to us now." His fingers were now teasing a hardened nipple.
"I want you so much, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon groaned at the sound of his name in that low, sultry
tone. He looked up and drew his thumb across Obi-Wan's damp
lower lip, leaned in and kissed him gently on each eyelid.
"Then I am yours."
Obi-Wan brought his legs up as he lay back on the bed and
quickly undid his bootstraps. It wasn't easy getting them off
without moving.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and sat up to help him, tossing them
haphazardly across the room. Once exposed, he couldn't resist
running his hands over the bare calloused feet. He noted with
amusement the slight tremors around Obi-Wan's lips that
indicated his student's heroic effort not to move a muscle.
The temptation was too much, even for a Master. One hand
clamped around the ankle holding the foot securely in place,
while fingers attacked the sensitive areas.
The voice that had been low and sultry seconds ago now howled
and pleaded, and the body that had been so tempting and eager
now twisted and struggled as he tried to wrestle his foot away.
Accompanied by shrieks of choked laughter and creaking strains
of the bed, Obi-Wan managed to win the battle. But the war was
still far from being over. Qui-Gon surrendered the foot but
straddled the lean hips while his fingers continued to search
for new battlefields.
The fingers were soon followed by lips, then the lips were
reinforced by a tongue. The squirming below him slowed to a
more sensuous rhythm. Qui-Gon could feel his lover's cock
growing and hardening beneath his buttocks and he felt his own
hardness struggle against the restrictive cloth of the leggings
he still wore.
Slowly, he lowered his face until he able to feel the softness
of Obi-Wan's lips against his own, sucking and licking first
the upper lip, and then the bottom, tasting them thoroughly
before easing his tongue carefully into Obi-Wan's mouth.
A ragged gasp below him preceded the loosened arms, and
suddenly two loving hands were mapping the contours of the bone
and muscle of his back. Slowly, they drifted lower until they
grasped and squeezed his buttocks, bringing their groins closer
together. Qui-Gon gasped as he moved against his lover's
rock-hard erection.
He eased his hand between them and worked his way down the body
beneath him. Their lips still exploring, he slipped his fingers
inside the waistband of Obi-Wan's leggings where his fingertips
brushed the hot, slippery head of the younger man's arousal.
"Qui-Gon," groaned Obi-Wan, gripping his master tighter as he
jolted upwards, grinding their hips together.
Qui-Gon rolled off to the side, turning his partner slightly
with him. His lips found Obi-Wan's sweaty and hardened nipples,
and he lapped at the salty skin around them in a lazy circular
motion while his fingers deftly unfastened Obi-Wan's leggings.
The young Jedi arched and twisted under his master's caresses,
his hands diving into the long, silky mass of brown hair.
The lips moved downwards, across hard, angular planes, wiping
out any former memory of torturing fingers with equally
torturing wet kisses. The kisses coaxed a different type of
shudder in his mate, along with more throaty, less desperate,
cries.
Qui-Gon was conscious of a deep and growing contentment in his
soul. It was a feeling of deep satisfaction and fulfillment. A
feeling that he planned to give more attention to. Later.
Obi-Wan was nearly mindless beneath him, judging by the
uncustomary gibberish coming from him, and Qui-Gon grinned at
the unfamiliar oath he heard as he dipped his tongue into his
navel. He was rewarded with slow rhythmic movements as the
younger Jedi ground his hips against him.
He migrated towards the sharp intoxicating musky scent that
made him giddy with desire. He nudged the fabric of Obi-Wan's
leggings aside, exposing the hard crimson flesh that beckoned
to him.
Qui-Gon traced his lips over its smooth silky length before
swallowing it, his tongue scrubbing away the semen from
Obi-Wan's first orgasm. He fondled the heavy balls with his
hand as he sucked noisily in a steady pulse, taking the shaft
deeper into his throat.
Obi-Wan's shaky fingers touched his hair, careful not to grasp
it too tightly, as the slim hips rocked back and forth, careful
not to thrust too deeply. His soft moans turned to desperate
pleas and soon the hands left his head and clutched at the
bedding below them while heels dug deeply into the mattress.
For a heartbeat, all movement ceased. And then his shuddering
release left him gasping for breath.
Qui-Gon swallowed the last of the bitter cream and sat back,
gazing with speculation at the boneless mess on the bed beneath
him. He hustled the other man's leggings off quickly before
standing up and stripping out of his own.
He smiled as he noticed Obi-Wan looking him over with an
appraising look that threatened to turn his knees into jelly.
He cupped Obi-Wan's face in one hand and leaned in for a slow,
soul-sucking kiss, pulsing his tongue back and forth between
parted lips. Warm fingers teased his cock before closing around
it, brushing the sensitive underside from tip to root with a
thumbnail. Qui-Gon lunged into the hand and softly grunted
against the eager lips.
Slowly he broke the kiss and reached behind himself for a small
jar of plant-based gel on the table next to the bed.
"Tell me what you want?" he whispered.
Obi-Wan rolled onto his stomach without a word, looking back
over his shoulder at him with more heat than the double suns of
Tatooine. Qui-Gon knelt between his legs, stunned by the sight
of his apprentice spread out so wantonly before him. For him.
He took a deep breath to steady himself and ran his fingers
down the curving spine. He placed light kisses in their wake,
nuzzling the firm young cheeks as he unscrewed the jar.
He warmed the cold gel in his hands before slipping two coated
fingers into that pink, puckered anus. Obi-Wan moaned and
bucked up at the first touch, and then pushed his hips
backwards, swallowing the fingers into the hot passage as far
as they'd go. The tight rings of muscle clenched around
Qui-Gon's fingers before relaxing, slightly at first and then
more as the fingers carefully stretched them. Qui-Gon used his
other hand to rub the flesh just above the swell of his
buttocks.
Qui-Gon lubricated and added a third finger, coaxing the tight
muscles to yield, while eliciting an endless stream of small
gasps and grunts from Obi-Wan. He worked his fingers back and
forth, stretching and loosening, until he was satisfied that
both of them were ready. Obi-Wan's noisy enthusiasm as he
pushed himself back onto those fingers was nearly enough to
bring Qui-Gon's evening to an early end, without his padawan's
help.
He removed his fingers and leaned forward, spreading the cheeks
apart with hands that trembled in anticipation. He slicked
himself quickly and pressed against the prepared opening. It
resisted only slightly before yielding to him and he locked his
knees to steady himself as Obi-Wan accepted his entire length.
Oh. So hot and tight. So ready for him. He paused for a moment,
quelling his own excitement and letting the sensations wrap
themselves around him. He could feel Obi-Wan's own intense
hunger mingle with his own as he dipped his head to lap up a
single bead of sweat as it rolled down the young man's neck.
Obi-Wan braced himself as Qui-Gon started to thrust with deep,
firm strokes. Obi-Wan soon found the rhythm, and they met each
other halfway, the quiet sounds of flesh on flesh and hoarse
breathing interjected with sharp hisses and moans.
Obi-Wan spread his legs further apart, inviting Qui-Gon to sink
his shaft deeper within him. He reached with one hand to
support himself against the wall in front of him, while the
other hand reached for his erection.
"Let me," Qui-Gon whispered hoarsely, as he pushed away the
hand and wrapped his hand tightly around his lover's heavy
cock. It wasn't long before Obi-Wan screamed his pleasure as he
came hard in Qui-Gon's hand. His thighs trembled with the
strain and then gave out completely as he crumpled to the bed.
Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around the limp form of his padawan
and plunged back into his heat - twice.... oh, yesss....,
once.... more.... He shouted and tightened his hold on Obi-Wan
as fire swept through his loins, shooting his heated seed into
the loving body beneath him. Sweaty and exhausted, he
collapsed, his body still shuddering from the aftershocks.
He opened his eyes and sucked in as much air as he could with
Qui-Gon's full weight lying on top of him. Their heat and sweat
had fused them together, but Obi-Wan was too sated to move. And
too happy to complain. He hadn't expected this magnitude of
love from Qui-Gon. Bonded? His body shook with the laughter he
couldn't contain.
He felt Qui-Gon's weight shift as short bristly hair grazed the
skin between his shoulderblades. Then the hips pinning him face
down on the bed moved slightly and Qui-Gon's softening member
slid from his body.
Obi-Wan stirred with a quiet groan and Qui-Gon rolled off to
one side, leaving his hand on Obi-Wan's hip, unwilling still to
let him go. Obi-Wan turned with a bit of effort, a lazy grin
pasted on his face.
"Do I look as well-fucked as I feel?" he chuckled.
Qui-Gon laughed and pulled Obi-Wan back into his arms, pressing
gentle kisses to his swollen lips. Drowsily he felt a blanket
being tucked around him and then the arms were back, holding
him close. Obi-Wan fell asleep to the warm whisper of soft
breathing in his ear and the steady beat of the heart next to
his own.
Obi-Wan awoke the next morning with a smile on his face and the
tang of stale semen sharp in his nostrils. He raised himself on
one arm and looked down at the sleeping face next to him and
gave into the temptation. He swiped his tongue gently across
the sleeper's lips, coaxing them apart and waking his new lover
with soft, wet kisses.
Qui-Gon awoke with a sharp intake of breath as he opened his
eyes and Obi-Wan stared into the deepest blue he'd ever seen.
Arms slid around him and one hand slid up to cradle the back of
his head, bringing him back down for another kiss.
Obi-Wan felt his heart fill close to bursting, and realized
that he no longer felt the cold emptiness that had been part of
him for longer than he cared to remember.
He felt a twinge of vertigo - not quite as disorienting this
time - as his perception changed suddenly, as if someone had
picked him up and set him back down looking in the opposite
direction. This was his lifemate kissing him, not his Master.
He would spend the rest of his life with Qui-Gon, as Qui-Gon's
cherished mate - not just his student or a companion knight.
They showered together and afterwards dressed slowly, barely
able to keep their hands off one another long enough to fasten
tunics and yank on trousers, then made their way to the common
area for breakfast.
Keela looked up from his light meal to greet them. His eyes
drifted over them both and then grinned wickedly at them as
they gathered their breakfast and tea and sat down.
Obi-Wan sighed. He wasn't exactly hard to read this morning. He
couldn't get rid of this stupid grin, and he felt a little
stiff and sore in some places that probably showed when he
walked. But most of all, his love for Qui-Gon felt like a
visible cord strung between them for anyone to see. He could
almost feel it pull at him as they separated.
He looked up at Qui-Gon just as his master was turning to look
at him and felt their new bond pulse. He struggled to resist
the overwhelming desire to touch Qui-Gon, biting down on his
lower lip and turning back to the table, but couldn't resist
closing his eyes as invisible fingers ghosted over his cheek.
Keela was staring directly at him from across the table when
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Looking quickly for a way to forestall
any questions or comments Keela might have, he was suddenly
aware of how richly-dressed their passenger was that morning.
Closer inspection also revealed the skilled and judicious use
of face paints.
Keela wore burgundy leggings, loose around the legs but
well-tailored around the hips, thighs and ankles. The material
had a rough look to it, but it was a tight weave and no doubt
expensive, and it begged a more tactile approach from curious
fingers. It went well with the low-cut golden silk tunic. The
tunic was held together at the waist with a burgundy sash that
matched the leggings, and left open across the chest.
The warm colours brought out a healthy glow, even under the
sickly lights of the ship. And the soft shades of the face
paints made his eyes look bigger, more sultry, and his lips
much more alluring. A strange presentation for a member of
royalty, thought Obi-Wan.
"You look very nice today, Keela," Qui-Gon complimented as he
sat down next to Obi-Wan.
"For my King, I always try to look my best. Especially when I
am with him in public."
Obi-Wan finished eating and reached for the teapot to refill
his cup, his mind already on the task of piloting the ship to
the surface of Senalta Ipsilon. He rose from the table with his
mug, and felt Qui-Gon's hand on the back of one thigh, giving
him a quick, reassuring squeeze. He tossed him a grin and
bounced towards the cockpit.
The landing was routine - Senalta was technologically average
among the worlds that made up the Republic - and the air
traffic controllers were quite proficient in directing them to
their berth in the security-restricted area of the spaceport.
Obi-Wan straightened and smoothed his tunic one last time as
they stood near the entry inside the ship, waiting for its
computer to open the door. The Jedi were dressed neatly in
their common wear, as suited the unofficial greeting of a
sovereign ruler.
He smoothed the back of Qui-Gon's robe. His fingers lingered
over the rough wool weave that covered the broad shoulders and
arms that held him in passion the night before.
Qui-Gon gave him a knowing look over his shoulder that made his
heart beat faster. Obi-Wan gave the folds one last pat before
tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe and falling
still.
Red flashing lights and a puff of warm air announced the
opening door. Keela preceded the Jedi down the ship's ramp and
straight to the small group assembled to greet them a few
metres away.
One figure stood apart from the others, his relaxed
self-assurance giving him the illusion of height when he was
actually no taller than the rest of the group. His clothes were
neatly tailored, the rich colours and fabrics accentuating
perfectly the dark skin and trim figure. Black hair surrounded
his face and lightly dusted his chin, and kind eyes softened
the otherwise hard features of a monarch. He held out his hands
as Keela approached, smiling broadly as the young man knelt and
placed his forehead on the hands that held his own.
"My Adjo," the King murmured softly as they smiled at each
other. He lifted the younger man to his feet and pulled him
forward into a fierce embrace as their lips came together in a
more personal greeting.
Reluctantly they parted, and Keela took his place slightly
behind the King and to one side.
"Greetings Jedi," said one of the older men in the group, as
attention was turned back to the two visitors.
Dressed in similar clothing, but with a milder demeanor, the
man who had welcomed them turned to the taller figure and bowed
slightly, introducing His Majesty, King Moyeels'ha ti Nyo
A'Mardan. The other members of the party were introduced, with
the Chancellor leaving his own introduction until last.
As soon as the Jedi were finished introducing themselves, the
formalities slipped away and everyone broke into a relaxed
chatter. Chancellor Keyeeln briefly advised the Jedi on the
plans for the treaty signing and the subsequent celebrations.
The full itinerary, he explained quickly, would be discussed at
supper later that evening.
"Thank you, Jedi, for bringing my Adjo back to me," the King
addressed them for for the first time, the gleam in his eye
matching the grin on Keela's face as he looked back at the
young man. "He has been away from us too long." He brought
Keela's hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly to make his
point.
At the King's signal, they exited the spaceport and walked to
the awaiting transportation. The hovercraft was large enough to
fit all nine of them quite comfortably. Its design allowed the
Jedi an excellent view of the passing countryside, and the trip
to the palace was pleasant.
"How was the wedding, dear one?" the King asked quietly,
turning to Keela once the craft was motion.
"I took a holovid so you could watch it, but it was lovely," he
confided, placing his hand on the King's arm. "Ealth and Palus
were so sweet - I thought they were going to break down and cry
before the ceremony was finished. Palus nearly dropped the
ring, his hands were shaking so much... "
"They owe you their happiness for bringing them together," the
King told him, covering the hand on his arm. "Such an odd
little hobby you have, my dear."
Keela smiled to himself and looked at the Jedi seated across
from him. He could see their bond vibrating between them now
like a fledgling sun, young and strong. He saw ties between
people like living things - some were dead and withered, others
lived, but so many were simply ignored and dormant. Like seeds
waiting for just a little bit of sunshine and affection to make
them flourish.
Obi-Wan looked up and caught him staring at them. The young
Jedi turned his head back to the passing scenery, but not
before Keela noticed the flush starting to colour his features.
He smiled to himself and relaxed back against his seat.
The trip to the palace was not long, and they embarked just
outside of the formal gardens that spread out around them like
multi-coloured carpets. The palace was built mostly from
hand-crafted stone - the same stone that dotted the landscape -
with two large, more modern-looking wings added on near the
back. The building was an attractive, comfortable blending of
old and new.
The gardens were neat and trimmed, containing both high and low
shrubs and hedges of different hues and textures, carefully
manicured to line the pathways and mazes. Some of the lowest
hedges held back beds of bright flowers made up of riotous
colours that threatened to explode past their borders. Several
varieties were haphazardly thrown together to create a wild and
exhilarating palette that contrasted splendidly with the more
somber greens and greys of the shrubbery. It was a garden for
the senses, made for strolling through.
A small trickling creek meandered across the crushed stone
pathways, and small fountains, benches and topiary figures were
placed at intervals along the way.
"This way, if you please," the Chancellor directed them with an
elegant sweep of his arm. The foyer inside the main entrance
was cool and spacious, and the calming sound of trickling water
could be heard but not seen.
Once the evening's arrangements were explained, the King turned
to leave. "Keela, will you attend me?" he asked the young man.
"If it pleases my King, I would like to escort my hosts to
their rooms first. I will be with you as quickly as I can."
The King raised his eyebrow in amusement and smiled. "As you
wish."
Keela led the Jedi through what seemed like miles of hallways
before they finally arrived at their rooms. They waited
patiently while the servants set down the bags and left with
polite bows.
"Our nicest guest suite," Keela told them, walking slowly
around the main room. "You'll like these rooms. Big soft beds,
warm floors, thick walls... Not like those cabin walls on your
ship. You know, they were so thin and you two are very noisy
together."
He couldn't help but laugh as the Jedi attempted to maintain
their stoical faces. Especially when he knew first-hand what
boiled beneath that calm surface.
"Keela, just what is your relationship to the King, If I may
ask?" Obi-Wan said.
Keela's smile lit up his face. "I am honoured to be My Lord's
most favoured and venerated concubine. Thus my title, 'Adjo'."
He dropped a slight bow to them. He thought he saw the briefest
smile on Qui-Gon's lips.
"Then... then why...." The young Jedi was searching for the
right words.
"Why?" Keela raised one eyebrow.
"Why were you...?" Obi-Wan shook his head. He didn't want to
offend by using the wrong word.
"Flirting with you?" Keela shrugged and smirked. "Why not? I
had nothing else to do. And you two were so.... well, besides
damned attractive, you were so determined to ignore what was
right in front of your eyes. I just gave you a little push. A
bit of sunshine," he grinned. "It's a sin to waste that much
love."
The Jedi were silent, speechless.
"You two are the most stubborn men I've ever met. It's a
wonder that anything got through to either of you."
"But, the King...." continued Obi-Wan.
"Is very liberal minded, and I am beholden to no one. He knows
that I love him, but that doesn't stop me from admiring others.
Besides, neither of you had eyes for anyone but each other,
even if you wouldn't admit the reason why to yourselves.
"Now, if you don't mind, I believe I am wanted elsewhere. I
thank you for your indulgence, and I hope that I may return the
favour while you are with us. If you'll excuse me... I'll see
you at supper in about two hours? But, we'll understand if
you're late." Keela chuckled as he let himself out.
The rooms were very tastefully decorated primarily in blues and
gold, and very sumptuous in their offerings - much more
comfortable than two simple Jedi were used to. The beds did
indeed look inviting. And large. Obi-Wan had burrowed himself
into his lover's arms the moment Keela had left, but he was
still examining their room. Qui-Gon could almost hear him
thinking.
"Did you know that Keela....?" Obi-Wan said, turning back to
him.
"No," answered Qui-Gon, anticipating his question. "Although it
would have meant little even if I had known. Keela's
relationship to the King was of no consequence to us on the
ship. And he obviously lives by his own rules."
Qui-Gon shifted closer and brushed the back of his fingers over
the younger man's face to try and erase the pensive look he
still wore. "You know, Obi-Wan, we brought the discomfort of
these past two days upon ourselves."
Obi-Wan looked up with mild surprise written on his face.
"Master?"
"I can't say as that any of this has really surprised me. What
does surprise me is how well we've managed to ignore what the
Force has been trying to tell us. It took someone like Keela to
pound it through our thick heads."
"Are you saying...? You're not saying that Keela...." Obi-Wan
looked faintly aghast at his thoughts. "That Keela..." He
couldn't say it.
"That perhaps the Force used Keela to give us the kick in the
pants we needed to get its message?" Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb
across the furrow between Obi-Wan's eyebrows, trying to smooth
it out as he used to when his student was a child. "Mmmm
hmmmm."
"Keela?" Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Sometimes the message is delivered by the most unlikely
source." He gazed deeply into eyes greener than the forests of
the Endor moon. "Listen with your heart," Qui-Gon whispered.
"What do you hear?"
It began as two heartbeats, as faint as a breeze along the
forest floor. Qui-Gon felt that sense of disembodiment again
and knew that they were sharing this moment. As the beating
grew stronger, he could hear the irresistible song of the Force
tapping its rhythm in his soul, twining with a counter-melody
from his beloved to create an exquisite duet of light and love.
He could feel it taking root in his heart, spreading joy
throughout his soul as it grew. He felt Obi-Wan lean into him,
his breath coming in soft rasps.
"I feel so light," breathed Obi-Wan. He lifted his face and
Qui-Gon could see the same face he always saw, but through new
eyes that saw only love and strength.
"Keela was right," Qui-Gon said with a faint smile. "We are
most stubborn."
"But we're not deaf," answered Obi-Wan, his eyes bright with
laughter.
Qui-Gon cupped his face in his broad hands and leaned forward,
slowly covering Obi-Wan's lips with his own, tasting the soft
lips. "Love is a gift from the Force," he said gently. "We had
only to acknowledge it for it to grow. Like us, it needs the
light. If we tend it together, it will be strong. It will keep
us strong."
Obi-Wan gazed deeply into the warm blue eyes of his lifemate
and pondered Qui-Gon's prophetic words. Their love was a very
precious gift indeed and he knew that a little cultivation was
in order. He definitely planned on giving it lots of tending,
starting that very minute. With a wry grin, he wrapped his arms
around his love and leaned in to capture his lips. As his
tongue dove past those parted lips, he chuckled. He could think
of many ways to cultivate their love and he planned on testing
each and every one.
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