Archive: Yes to M_A, TOTO, The Hidden Past, SWAL, etc.
Catagory: Drama, Angst, BDSM, Non-Q/O
Feedback: Yes, please. I crave it like a drug. :)
Summary: Obi-Wan seeks out something that Qui-Gon can not give
him from another.
Warnings: Just in case you missed it in the categories, this
story is DARK and ANGSTY and contains BDSM. And while it does
have very strong O/Q overtones, it is actually a Non-Qui/Obi
story. Beware, here there be draigons.
Disclaimer: The characters within do not belong to me, no
matter how much I wish that they did. They are the property of
the Mighty GL and I am only borrowing them.
He walked silently down the darkened hallway, eyes forward, not
bothering to look around. His hood was drawn forward and he
could just see around the edges, walking past each door that
lined the hall. He could hear nothing, the patrons paid well
for their privacy in this place but he knew what was happening
behind the thick panels of durasteel regardless, the thick
heaviness of lust moving through the air like smoke. He inhaled
deeply as if he could breath it into his lungs even as he
wrinkled his nose at the stale reek of sweat and the stink of
unwashed bodies.
And then he was there. He stopped in front of one of the doors,
unremarkable and identical to its neighbors but for the numbers
emblazoned on it. Unremarkable except that it was the door he
had been searching for and Obi-Wan took a deep breath,
struggling to calm his suddenly leaping emotions, a nearly
painful jumble of lust, guilt and frustrated anger.
I can still leave, he thought suddenly. It wasn't too
late. He could turn and walk away, go back to the Temple and
pretend that he had never been here, that he had never even
heard of this place, never mind walked through the halls with
their stained carpet and silent doors. No one held him here. He
could just...leave.
He closed his eyes, lowering his head until he could no longer
see the door with its numbers. No, he couldn't, not anymore
than he could have left the other times. He couldn't.
The door swung open and Obi-Wan looked up, unsurprised.
"Were you planning on waiting in the hallway all night? Perhaps
if you're there long enough someone will recognize you and
won't that look good on your records?"
He didn't even wince at the mocking words, simply looked at the
other man silently. The man gestured curtly and Obi-Wan obeyed,
walking into the room far enough that the man could shut the
door.
Strong hands caught him, jerking Obi-Wan backwards and slamming
him into that hard metal of the door. His breath was knocked
from him and a hard mouth coming down on his own stole away any
chance for him to regain it.
A tongue plunged rudely into Obi-Wan's mouth and he allowed it
for only a moment before he responded desperately, his own
hands biting into the other man's arms as Obi-Wan tried to pull
him closer, teeth clashing as they tried to devour each other.
Obi-Wan tasted blood and dimly realized that the force of this
kiss had split his lip. He moaned helplessly, grinding his
mouth against the other man's, frantic for more.
Finally, when Obi-Wan's vision had dimmed threateningly from
lack of oxygen, the other man pulled back, still holding
Obi-Wan tightly against the door but allowing him panting gasps
of air.
When Obi-Wan finally managed to open his eyes again he found
the other man's pale blue eyes studying his mouth. Obi-Wan
licked his lips and tasted salt, slowly realizing that blood
from his split lip was trickling down his chin.
One hand released its bruising grip on Obi-Wan's arm and he
winced faintly as sensation started to tingle its way back
through the offended limb. The other man's hand drifted lazily
to Obi-Wan's face, slim fingers wiping away the blood.
"You came."
The faint bitter metallic of blood wafted to his nostrils as
those fingers traced their way down his cheek. They were still
wet with blood, smearing tacky streaks of it down Obi-Wan's
cheek and he shuddered faintly in revulsion.
"I told you I would," he managed, breath quickening even as the
other man smiled at the bitterness in Obi-Wan's voice. Yes, he
had come but neither one of them pretended that Obi-Wan wanted
to be here.
"Tell me, does he know that you came to me tonight?" The man
leaned forward to murmur against his ear, moist breath
caressing sensitive skin and Obi-Wan shivered again for an
entirely different reason.
"Of course he doesn't." The words were harsh, only a faint
tremor betraying him. The fingers slid back to his mouth,
dipping again in the tiny ribbon of blood that was running down
Obi-Wan's chin from his lip.
"Of course." Irony laced the older man's voice as his hand
again fluttered over Obi-Wan's face, smearing crimson streaks
on the smooth skin.
A tiny whimper escaped Obi-Wan before he could catch it and he
was shaking now, from the scent of blood, from the touch of
those fingers. "Xanatos," he whispered, pleadingly, turning his
head ever so slightly away although he couldn't bear to
actually step back and break contact.
"Shh, hush now, my pet." The hand on his face returned to
Obi-Wan's lips and a single finger was laid across them,
silencing him. Xanatos smiled at Obi-Wan, pressed a gentle kiss
to his temple. "The time for talking is over," he crooned
against Obi-Wan's hair and a barely suppressed moan caught in
the younger man's throat. "You came to me," Xanatos continued,
rubbing his cheek briefly against Obi-Wan's before stepping
away and looking down the other man's body appraisingly, "Take
off your clothes."
He did so quickly, letting his clothes drop to the floor around
him. Naked, he stood up straight, his arms falling to his sides
even as he blushed faintly at his obvious erection. Xanatos'
eyes took it all in, drifting over the younger man's body and
Obi-Wan straightened defiantly, refusing to cover himself.
Xanatos walked around him and Obi-Wan held perfectly still,
even when a hand curved over his buttocks, squeezing one round
globe gently before retreating.
"Beautiful..." breathed softly behind him and Obi-Wan shivered
at the gust of warm breath against his bare skin. "But then,
you always are." Xanatos continued, walking around to face
Obi-Wan again. Blue eyes met gray, both challenging the other.
"Lie down on the bed," Xanatos ordered softly, arms crossed
casually over his chest. One minute passed, two, and then
Obi-Wan slowly turned and walked to the bed.
It was the same kind of bed that had been in a dozen different
rooms across the galaxy. At least it looked cleaner than some
he had been on. He put a knee up on the edge, testing it, and
glanced up. His lips curved faintly upward at the sight of the
mirror above the bed but the smile vanished when Xanatos made
an impatient sound behind him. Obi-Wan shifted slowly,
stretching out across the mattress to lie on his stomach.
He pressed his face into the blankets when he heard Xanatos
walk towards him and forced himself not to pull away at the
first touch on his wrist. Cold metal replaced Xanatos' hands
and Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the feel of it, remembering
the first time. It was vivid painting in his mind, swirling
with dark colors and darker emotions. A chance meeting,
Xanatos' mocking invitation, their combined shock when Obi-Wan
had accepted...it had brought them to this.
The feel of the metal circling his ankles as well yanked
Obi-Wan back to the present and he couldn't control a flinch as
a warm hand trailed up his bare flank, his skin pricking as it
skimmed over his back before resting on the back of his neck.
"Beautiful." Whispered so close that Obi-Wan could feel Xanatos
breath against his cheek. "Do you have any idea how beautiful
you look like this, spread out for me?" Xanatos' hand drifted
up to Obi-Wan's head, combing through the short hair with his
fingers.
"He won't see you like this, you know that, my pet," Xanatos
murmured, leaning closer, his own darker hair falling forward
to tickle Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan tensed at Xanatos' words
but the older man continued as if oblivious.
"He won't see the beauty in it because he can't see it,"
Xanatos said, still gently stroking Obi-Wan's hair. "He would
never be able to see how exquisite you are, how beautiful you
are like this. He simply can't, my pet." The hand tangled into
Obi-Wan's hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.
"I still love him." Obi-Wan hadn't meant to say it aloud, the
words escaped from him without thought or shame. It was the
truth, no more and he could have sooner taken his own life than
to deny those words. The hand stilled and then tightened
briefly, painfully gripping Obi- Wan's hair before releasing
him and vanishing completely. The bed creaked slightly as
Xanatos stood and moved away.
"I know."
He heard it only an instant before it struck, the sharp hiss of
leather cutting through the air and then a line of fire arced
up his spine, ripping a startled shriek from Obi-Wan before he
caught himself. Obi- Wan cringed forward, straining against his
bonds as he braced himself against the next blow.
Instead, a warm hand caressed the small of his back and Obi-Wan
relaxed a fraction, reluctantly.
"There." Faint amusement in Xanatos' smoky voice and Obi-Wan
realized his mistake as the whip came down again, painting a
streak of raw pain across his shoulder.
"You always feel it so much better when you relax, pet,"
Xanatos said, walking to the head of the bed, his palm sliding
up to the mark on Obi- Wan's shoulder. The younger man shivered
as Xanatos fingered the rising welt, watching Xanatos through
half-closed eyes as he waited for the next blow.
Standing just behind and a little to the left, Obi-Wan could
just see Xanatos out of the corner of his eye. Still fully
dressed, a marked contrast that made Obi-Wan more conscious of
his own nudity, and his vulnerability. A deception, Obi-Wan
knew, he was no more vulnerable now than he ever was with
Xanatos. The shackles were useless, one flick of the Force and
they would be gone. They were merely a symbol, an illusion of
helplessness.
He reveled in it.
He pulled the chains taut as another blow fell, across his
back, bisecting the wound that was already there and he fought
to suppress a whimper.
Xanatos came close again, lightly touching the flesh around the
welts, as if testing Obi-Wan's sensitivity. "Do you know what
it would do to him if he discovered that you came to me for
this?" he asked conversationally, idly running the length of
the whip down the back of Obi-Wan's thigh and dragging yet
another near cry from the younger man.
"Yes," Obi-Wan ground out, burying his face into the sheets. He
could smell his own sweat, the clean scent of freshly laundered
bed linens and he was already hard, struggling not to grind his
cock against the coarse fabric sheets. He'd gotten an erection
at the first blow, instantly, and he had to fight the urge to
simply scream. To scream would be to end this and that he
couldn't bear, not yet. Not yet.
"Then tell me, are you here to punish him or yourself?"
Teasingly, the whip tickling over his skin, itching maddeningly
until it was all Obi- Wan could do again to not shriek, this
time in frustration.
Obi-Wan turned his head, just enough to see Xanatos. Pale blue
eyes met Obi-Wan's and the younger man couldn't help but
compare and to see that Xanatos' eyes were paler, less
expressive. Wrong. Obi-Wan smiled then, very faintly, before
saying, lightly, "Maybe I'm here to punish you?"
The surge of anger that flowed into the Force struck him nearly
as hard as the whip and now the blows were raining down,
finesse lost in the blaze of rage and Obi-Wan clutched at the
chains attached to his wrists, muffling his cries against the
blankets and screaming only in his own mind.
Yes, he wanted to scream. Yes, do this to me, do this for me.
He was not good enough, not good, not good enough for
him. But this was his, was Obi-Wan's. This was his due.
It was during these moments, caught in the embrace of the most
exquisite pain, the most horrific pleasure, that he was real,
not merely a silent shadow to someone who had never wanted him.
He was on fire, burning with sweet pain as the lash struck him.
Each blow like the sting of a thousand insects and a heavy web
of dark emotion began to form around him, spinning forth a
cloud of anger, lust, need. His own or Xanatos' he didn't know
but it was suffocating him and this was too much, too much, he
couldn't...
It stopped abruptly.
It was only when he felt the wetness on his cheeks that Obi-Wan
realized he was crying. Hitched, sobbing breathes, all the lust
he'd felt moments ago had been leached out of him and he
couldn't get enough air, still felt that suffocating fog of
darkness around him. Too close, too, too close that time.
The darkness seemed to loom closer every time. Every time he
swore would be the last and every time he managed to resist,
for a while. But he always found himself back here, in a room
like all the others on a dozen different worlds. Xanatos had
been following him from the beginning; on every world that he
and Qui-Gon went to Xanatos had been there, distant but there,
and waiting. And sometimes Obi-Wan went to him, sullenly taking
what he offered and sometimes he resisted. But Xanatos was
always there, like a shadow. It was a miracle that Qui-Gon
hadn't noticed yet. It was like walking the fine edge of a
blade, just waiting for the moment that he would finally lose
his balance and to see how deeply he was cut.
He barely registered that Xanatos was touching him, gentle
hands sliding over his flesh that wasn't marked with reddened
lines. Soothing him, murmuring soft words to him and Obi-Wan
allowed himself to be gentled, comforted.
"It's all right, pet, it's all right. It's over now," Xanatos
crooned softly. Obi-Wan flinched when a finger brushed his
cheek, testing the wetness there and then he watched in kind of
dazed fascination as Xanatos lifted the damp finger to his
lips, tasting Obi-Wan's tears.
"Beautiful," Xanatos sighed. He stroked Obi-Wan's sweat-soaked
hair gently, and Obi-Wan sighed softly, relaxing. He could
relax now that it was over. For it to begin again after Xanatos
had ended it would be against the rules, the worst kind of
betrayal and then it truly would be over, they both knew it.
"You are so beautiful like this, my pet." Xanatos ran a finger
over Obi-Wan's back, fondling the welts and Obi-Wan whimpered
faintly. "All of this is mine," he whispered, leaning closer
until his lips brushed Obi-Wan's ears. The younger man closed
his eyes and turned his face away but he heard what Xanatos
said next regardless.
"He may own you, as unworthy as he is of you," Xanatos
hissed, his touch rougher as he pinched Obi-Wan's abused flesh
between his fingers. "But I am the one who marked you. If
nothing else, this is mine."
Obi-Wan was crying out steadily now, straining away from
Xanatos. It hurt, Force it hurt, something deep inside him was
screaming, wailing in terrified agony, and oh, this was
killing him and he wasn't sure whether it was the older
man's touch or the truth in his words that he was fighting
against.
Instantly, Xanatos stopped, his hands sliding down instead to
the unmarred skin of Obi-Wan's hips, stroking the soft skin of
the younger man's flanks with practiced ease.
And Obi-Wan stopped fighting, allowed the sweetness of pleasure
to wash through him. Yes, this was what he needed. The flesh
between his legs swelled again, firming as Xanatos caressed
him. A warm hand insinuated itself between Obi-Wan's thighs,
cupping his balls and Obi-Wan gave a choked cry, arching into
the all too brief touch as Xanatos pulled away again.
And returned, stroking, teasing and Obi-Wan found himself
thinking of those hands, hands that he was allowing to touch
him. A murderer's hands, hands stained with the blood of
innocents. Stained with Obi- Wan's blood although he was no
longer as innocent as he had once been and knew he never would
be again. Some things, once lost, could never be regained.
And then he was thinking nothing at all as Xanatos gently
stroked the cleft of his buttocks and pressed a slick finger
inside. A soft, choked off moan and Obi-Wan lifted his hips
towards that warm pressure only to have Xanatos back off again.
He rubbed tiny circles with a single finger against the
entrance to Obi-Wan's body but did not press inside, until
Obi-Wan relaxed back down to the mattress.
And then slid his finger inside again, gently stroking the
narrow passage as he watched Obi-Wan fight the urge to arch up
again, knowing what would happen if he did. Xanatos could play
this game for hours, his patience mocking Obi-Wan's eagerness.
So Obi-Wan lay perfectly still, even when one finger became two
as he was opened and readied for an invasion that was not
coming quickly enough.
"Do it now," Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely and was rewarded with a
harsh slap against his backside.
"I will do what I want, when I want," Xanatos said sharply.
"You are not the one in charge here, pet." He had to say it,
what little pride he had left from these encounters demanded
that he say it and at times he almost believed it. Almost.
Obi-Wan nearly laughed aloud at that but he choked it back,
struggling to relax, to not move even when all his nerves were
screaming that he must. Control, it was all about control and
he breathed deeply as Xanatos touched him.
"Do you want this, pet?" Xanatos asked softly and it was all
Obi-Wan could do to control his groan. Games, always these
games. Obi-Wan held still, not answering.
"Do you want this?" And Xanatos thrust hard with his fingers,
forcing a cry from the younger man. An unpleasant smile twisted
his face as he whispered, "Say it, I want to hear you say it
this time."
"I hate you," Obi-Wan whispered, barely audible but powerful
nonetheless.
Xanatos closed his eyes against the words, gritting his teeth
as he pulled his fingers almost completely out. He paused
there, ignoring Obi-Wan's protesting cries. "Say it."
"I hate you!" Obi-Wan spat, shouting it this time as he
struggling to impale himself further and he nearly shrieked
when Xanatos refused to allow it. "I hate you," he chanted,
gasping raggedly, "I hate that I want this, I hate that I let
you do this and..."
"My, my, such words, pet," Xanatos chided, laughing softly,
mockingly, "What would your master think?" Xanatos leaned
closer, pitching his voice to a high, singsong tone, "Fear
leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to..."
"I don't care!" Obi-Wan screamed then, hoarse gasps escaping
him as he struggled against his bonds, his wrists raw and
bleeding. He hardly noticed; the tiny pain was swallowed up in
the twisting agony of need. "I hate you! I hate that you
want me, I hate that I need this and...oh..." Another scream
was wrenched from Obi-Wan as Xanatos thrust his fingers
brutally hard inside him.
"Say it!"
"And I hate, oh force, I hate that you aren't him and
oh, gods will you just fuck me!"
There was no stopping the scream when Xanatos roughly pulled
his fingers out, leaving Obi-Wan sore and empty. Xanatos moved
away and he could hear the other man pulling off his clothes.
Obi-Wan was nearly weeping with need when he finally felt warm,
bare skin settle against his own, arching up helplessly to meet
it.
"Easy, pet, easy," Xanatos crooned, running his hand over
Obi-Wan's sweat-slicked back, fondling the rising welts and
relishing Obi-Wan's whimpers. He settled over Obi-Wan's
writhing form, positioning himself and then pressing inside
very slowly, groaning as tight heat surrounded him. He ignored
Obi-Wan's barely intelligible pleas, strangled whispers for
faster, for more. This time, this one time, Xanatos would have
it his own way.
It burned, his flesh stretching to admit the length of Xanatos'
cock and Obi-Wan took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to
relax. Yes, yes, he mouthed, silently as Xanatos pushed in as
deeply as he could, blanketing Obi-Wan's body with his own as
they both lay still, savoring the sweetness of contact.
Sweat dripped down his back, his own perspiration mingling with
Xanatos', stinging painfully in the welts there. Even as
Obi-Wan was concentrating on that tiny pain, a hot tongue
rasped along the mark on his shoulder, dragging a startled hiss
from him, before soft lips found Obi-Wan's ear.
"Obi-Wan..." Xanatos breathed, gently, hips moving in a slow
circle and a sob caught in the younger man's throat. Not
enough, it wasn't enough...
"Please!" Obi-Wan sobbed out, finally, pride and stubbornness
vanishing as he strained against his bonds and towards the man
who held him in willful captivity.
Xanatos responded immediately, thrusting deep and Obi-Wan threw
back his head in a silent scream. This, this was what he
needed, the deep pulse of lust that hung thickly in the air,
the feel of Xanatos inside him. And yes, it hurt, the sweetness
of pain mingling with the agony of pleasure and Xanatos was
moving quickly now, thrusting hard and moaning ever louder
because Xanatos needed him.
A flood of desire swept through Obi-Wan and he arched
backwards, raising his hips to meet those thrusts the best that
he could. Xanatos needed him, someone needed him and if it was
the wrong person, then so be it. Word were tumbling from
Xanatos' lips, a helpless outpouring of passion as he whispered
how much he needed this, about how tight, how hot Obi-Wan was,
dark words that crept into Obi-Wan's ears. They were both slick
with sweat, sliding against each other as they fought to get
closer still.
A hand fumbled around Obi-Wan's hip to clasp his erection,
stroking in time to Xanatos' deep lunges and a broken scream
tore free from Obi- Wan's lips as Xanatos thrust hard, as
deeply as he could, straining to get deeper still and Obi-Wan
felt warm pulses of liquid fire deep inside even as his own
orgasm rushed over him. Swamped with pure sensation for a brief
moment he could feel everything, the roughness of the sheets
against his skin, Xanatos' fingers digging bruise-deep into his
hips, a bead of sweat sliding down his shoulder to be absorbed
into the blankets, Xanatos' cock still straining inside him as
the other man was swept into his own pleasure.
And then all that was lost and Obi-Wan fell into a shock of
ecstasy, a kaleidoscope of colors flickering behind his eyes as
he came, desperately burying his face into the bed linens to
muffle the name that he cried out. The wrong name, and he could
have wept for the agony of that simple truth.
And then it was over. Xanatos slumped down against him, making
Obi-Wan strain for breath but he didn't protest. Xanatos' long,
tangled mass of hair spilled down over Obi-Wan's shoulder and
it was soft and cool against his overheated skin. He shifted a
bit and buried his face into the silken filaments, breathing in
deeply the scent of whatever soap it was that Xanatos used and
if he closed his eyes for just a moment he could pretend...
He didn't. Instead, he waited, silently, for what he knew would
come.
"Stay."
A single word, whispered against Obi-Wan shoulder. A statement
and a question, the same question every time and Obi-Wan
answered it as he always did, and as gently as he always did.
"I can't."
He closed his eyes as Xanatos stiffened against him and then
pulled out roughly enough to make him gasp in pain. But still
he didn't protest, said nothing at all as he listened to
Xanatos dress. A ripple of energy through the force and the
manacles opened and fell to the bed, freeing Obi-Wan.
Tiny needles of pain prickled their way through his arms and
legs after being restrained for so long and Obi-Wan breathed
through them, until they eased enough for him to stretch and
roll onto his back.
Xanatos was standing at the foot of the bed, faintly tousled
but fully dressed; his face was starkly visible against the sea
of darkness that was his hair and clothes. And so were his
eyes, cold, pale eyes regarding Obi-Wan dispassionately. Hating
him.
And then without a sound he turned away, going to the single
window in the small room and looking out.
Rolling to his feet, Obi-Wan padded nude to the small bathroom.
He splashed cool water on his face, washing away the streaks of
blood that Xanatos had painted on it earlier and it felt
wonderful against his hot cheeks. He glanced up and looked at
himself in the mirror studying his reflection. His lip was a
bit puffy but nothing incriminating showed.
A faint sense of relief at that and he turned to leave but then
his eyes flicked upward and caught on his reflection's eyes,
shadowed, haunted eyes and suddenly it was all too much and his
trembling legs betrayed him. He sank to the floor, nearly
hyperventilating as he drew up his knees and pressing his
forehead against them.
Calm, he needed to be calm. He took a deep breath, another,
struggling to center himself. Now was not the time for this,
now it was time to settle accounts and to go. Another breath,
slowing his heartbeat, pulling his mental walls up around him
and then he forced himself to his feet and walked calmly out
into the main room.
Xanatos hadn't moved and Obi-Wan ignored him as he pulled on
his clothing, wincing as the rough cloth of his tunic dragged
across his sore back. He was absently grateful that he had
brought his cloak; it felt as if the lash had broken the skin
in a few places and no doubt blood was already seeping into the
thin fabric of his shirt. He was already going to be pushing
the line by being out so late. Trying to think of an excuse for
coming home bloodstained was not something he wanted to do any
time soon.
His wrists were bruised, the skin raw and chafed and he tugged
his sleeves up to cover them, making a mental note to tuck his
hands in his robe when he went home or else there would be
awkward questions to answer.
A last glance at Xanatos as he fastened his boots and then he
turned away silently, walking to the door.
"He'll never love you, not the way I do."
The words jerked him to a stop and Obi-Wan closed his eyes
briefly, fighting to keep his calm, before turning back.
Xanatos was still standing in front of the window, staring
sightless out at dim night- lights of Coruscant. Arms wrapped
around himself, his hair falling around his face like a shield
he looked far younger than he was and almost painfully
vulnerable.
A brief hesitation and then Obi-Wan walked over to stand next
to him. Xanatos stood statue still, stiffening as Obi-Wan
silently raised his hand, tucking long strands of hair behind
the other man's ear before lightly touched Xanatos' cheek,
tracing the white ridges of the scar that was there. A small
broken circle that shone starkly against the smooth skin, a
mark that Xanatos had given himself after his battle with
Qui-Gon.
"I know," Obi-Wan murmured and then his hand dropped and he
turned away.
"Go then," Xanatos said abruptly, turning to face the younger
man, his eyes blazing. "Go back to him and your pathetic little
fantasies." He laughed then, bitterly, the heat in his eyes
slowly turning to ice as he smiled coldly. "You know where to
find me, if you need me."
Obi-Wan nodded once and then turned away, leaving the room
without saying another word.
The door clicked shut and Xanatos sighed, sagging forward
enough to press his forehead to the cool glass of the window.
"Go back to him then, and truly, you are more a fool than I,
pet," he whispered, watching the lights of the aircars
flickering by. "At least I managed to leave." He snorted then,
mocking his own words. "And yet if I am so very intelligent
then what am I doing here?"
The empty room offered no answers and finally he simply turned
off the lights and crawled into the rumpled bed without
bothering to remove his clothes. He drifted off to sleep, each
breath drawing in the musky and horribly addictive scent of sex
and blood.
Huddled in the back of the aircar, Obi-Wan was trying to focus
on setting this aside. It was over and now he had to
concentrate on the now, on getting home and getting back into
his life. At this moment though, his face buried in his
cloth-covered knees, all he could smell was the other man's
touch on his skin. He reeked of sex and Obi-Wan felt a brief
rush of vicious pleasure that he was returning to his master
smelling of Xanatos before he ripped the emotion away and cast
it off. He would not allow himself to feel that.
It was time to forget about this, to put it aside until the
next time and Obi-Wan didn't even bother to pretend that there
would not be a next time. Tomorrow was soon enough to start
lying to himself again. He wondered, not for the first time,
just how much longer he would be able to do this. He was
balanced on the edge of disaster and one day he was going to
make a wrong step.
He pushed that aside as well. Perhaps he would and perhaps he
wouldn't but if and when it happened it wasn't going to be
tonight. Best not to think of it, to just put it aside and
worry when the time came.
Yet his mind refused to release it, it taunted him, picking at
his memories like they were a fresh scab. Briefly, he had an
image of Xanatos, standing behind him, flushed with exertion as
he asked, Are you here to punish him or yourself?
He didn't know. Lifting his head, Obi-Wan let it drop back
against the small window and he stared bleakly up at the
ceiling of the aircar. He didn't know and he was afraid to look
too deeply within for the answer. Once, he would have had no
compunction about doing so. He would have looked deep within
and rooted out the fear that had taken hold of him. And now
fear was preventing him, now he was afraid to look too deeply
within because he was terrified of who might look back.
Who are you punishing, Obi-Wan? And this time it was a
lover's voice, tender, warm, the way Xanatos sometimes...no. He
was not going to think of that, he was letting that go, he was
returning home.
Are you punishing yourself?
And that was ridiculous. Of course he wasn't, it wasn't as if
it was his fault. How could it be his fault if he had been
unwanted? He simply had not been good enough and that was that.
No shame it that, no blame, just the truth. He had tried his
best and his hardest and it was hardly his fault if it had
finally been pity that had made him a padawan. And if he chose
now to meet with Xanatos then it was his own affair. He was an
adult and it was no one else's business.
Are you punishing him?
If anything that was more ridiculous. None of this was his
master's fault, none of it. It wasn't Qui-Gon's fault that
Obi-Wan was so unlovable or that he had been trapped with an
unworthy apprentice. Qui- Gon did everything for his
padawan, trained Obi-Wan to be the best Jedi he could possibly
be, despite his unworthiness and if he didn't offer praise then
it was hardly his fault that Obi-Wan did not deserve it.
Obi-Wan huddled tighter into himself, lowering his face again
to his knees as he rocked slowly, trying to soothe his restless
mind. Of course Qui-Gon didn't love him, why would he? Obi-Wan
had a difficult time believing that Xanatos might actually care
for him. The idea that someone like Qui-Gon may ever feel more
than mild fondness for him was...was a dream hardly worth even
considering.
And he did know how upset Qui-Gon would be if he discovered
Obi-Wan had been with Xanatos, that was why he kept it secret,
wasn't it? It wasn't punishment, it wasn't, it was just...
He blinked, only just noticing that the droid had stopped the
aircar and was waiting for him to depart. He staggered out onto
the platform, his limbs stiffened from sitting for so long and
he struggled to compose himself before going to his rooms. He
tucked his thoughts neatly into the back of his head, walking
soundlessly to his quarters as he blanked his mind.
He paused in front of the door, the brief memory of another
door flashing into his mind and Obi-Wan closed his eyes against
it, pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the door.
His hands closed into fists so tightly that his nails bit into
his palms and he stood there, concentrating only on breathing
and knowing what was on the other side of this door as well as
he had known what had lay behind the other one. He could see it
as clearly as reality.
His master, sitting in his chair or perhaps on the sofa,
reading and he would look up at Obi-Wan when he walked in and
Qui-Gon would smile. And there would be a knowing look in those
eyes, that would never see him as he so desperately wanted to
be seen, because Qui-Gon thought he knew what his padawan had
been doing. There would be amusement maybe, for Obi-Wan coming
in so late, warmth assuredly, affection. But not love.
Obi-Wan blinked, looked again at the closed door before him and
without another moment's hesitation he opened it and walked
through, closing it silently behind him.
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