Who are we? Well, that's a very good question. There are two of
us and we both have a large number of stories on the M_A
archive. So, how good are you at picking out prose styles,
anyway? We're curious to know. Send your best guesses to:
TheGreatGonzo068@aol.com
Archive: M_A, SWAL, others ask
Category: first-time, PWP, fetish/kink
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: This was thrown together during a mutual fit of
insanity. We refuse to be held responsible for our own demented
minds. Switching point of view will be indicated by headers.
Spoilers: none
Summary: A cultural ritual takes an unexpected turn when
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon find themselves on opposite sides of a hole
in the wall.
Feedback: We at the abode of The Great Gonzo crave feedback,
terrible puns, and smut. Any of the above are welcome.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon Jinn stuck his penis through a hole in the wall.
It wasn't an experience with which he was intimately familiar
or eminently comfortable. He looked surreptitiously down the
length of the wall, where other holes awaited at varying
heights, with varying diameters. It was more cold than
arousing; the plasticine ring that cradled his most intimate
parts had not been warmed in preparation for occupancy.
Furthermore, he felt rather vulnerable, considering that he had
no idea who might be on the other side of the wall.
Bouncing carefully on his heels to keep the circulation going,
he waited.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan knelt on the cushion that had been provided for him,
waiting for his first 'patron'. Gods, this was embarrassing.
Just how did he always manage to get involved in these things?
He shook away his lingering discomfort. It wasn't important, he
told himself. All that mattered was doing his duty and doing it
well. It would not do to shame the Jedi with a poor
performance.
Not far down from him was another humanoid performing his duty
and Obi- Wan found his eyes reluctantly drawn to the sight. It
should have been humorous perhaps, watching a young man
servicing an anonymous patron through the barrier of a wall but
somehow... he squirmed uncomfortably, trying to watch without
obviously staring.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon uncomfortably attempted not to listen to the person
that had already been enjoying the services of this
establishment when he arrived. Apparently he found this concept
more exciting than Qui-Gon himself did. Still, when the Jedi
Master had discovered what accepting the ritual courtesies of
the Jaxtarian Royal Court involved, he'd been glad that he
could sneak away without his Padawan in Obi-Wan's customary
place at his side.
Without Obi-Wan here to witness, this was merely uncomfortable.
With him here, it might well have been impossible. Qui-Gon
squirmed a bit, gazing up at the ceiling. Beige. It could use a
nice new coat of paint, in a quiet beige.
The man next to him finished with a shout, convulsing, palms
slapping against the wall, and Qui-Gon blushed crimson, looking
away and humming a little to himself. Jedi Control. When he was
accepted and pleasured, he would not make such a... vulgar, and
embarrassing... display! It would not be commensurate with the
dignity of a Jedi Master.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Fighting the urge to whistle, Obi-Wan instead settled himself
on his back against the soft cushions. The customs of some
people would never cease to amaze him, he thought, shaking his
head slightly. When the Chamberlain had told him what would be
expected of him, it had been all he could do not to faint right
there in the richly decorated throne room, like some flighty
little child, not the Jedi he was supposed to be.
The other servicer was certainly getting... vigorous, he noted,
with a touch of apprehension. This might not be as easy as he
had first thought. All thoughts were wiped away when he glanced
back at his own station and saw that his first patron had
arrived when he wasn't paying attention.
He winced mentally. Not a good way to start out. Shifting
forward onto his knees, he steeled himself for what he was
about to do. Just duty, he reminded himself, this was a part of
his mission and must be handled like any other task. A part of
his brain snickered at the word 'handle' and he ignored it,
calm and ready to do his service. Until he got a good look at
exactly what he was supposed to be servicing.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
The longer he waited to be attended, the more uncomfortable
Qui-Gon grew. Perhaps he had stuck himself into the wrong hole.
Maybe he was being filmed for purposes of blackmail. Maybe the
size of his cock was just too intimidating for anyone to take
him up on this ludicrous offer. He gazed longingly back in the
direction of the small dressing chamber where he had left his
robes and his lightsaber. Well. The metal one, anyhow.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Unless the DNA of the Jaxtarians had changed when he walked
into this room, the man in front of him was not of their
species. If the fact that his skin wasn't green hadn't given
him away, then certainly the tiny sprigs of dark hair that were
visible would have. His patron was a human then, but Obi-Wan
had thought that his master and he himself were the only humans
in the Palace...
He clapped a hand over his mouth before the hysterical giggles
that were rising up him he could escape. Oh, Force around him,
this could not be happening. Still, he thought, as he
studied the soft flesh that was only inches from his face. He
had been wanting his master for years now, perhaps not like
this but in some fashion.
A mischievous impulse rose in him and he leaned forward, very
lightly running his tongue along the side of the flaccid shaft.
After all, he did have to do his duty for the Jedi.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Should he leave? This was ridiculous. While he waited, two more
men had walked up and inserted themselves, and were giving
every indication of enjoying the experience. Perhaps he
should-- Qui-Gon flinched and very nearly shouted as just at
the moment he would have pulled back, a hot wet tongue touched
him and trailed along his flaccid shaft.
He trembled, going almost instantly erect at the shock of the
soft touch, and bent his head, his hair curtaining his face and
screening his embarrassment. Force willing, this would be over
quickly. He had not expected the experience to be so intensely
arousing, but it was incredibly erotic, and it had hardly even
begun. He let his forehead rest against the wall and waited for
more.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
He had only just barely touched the man and his cock had
stiffened immediately. Obi-Wan leaned back quickly to avoid
losing an eye, looking somewhat nonplused at his master's
shaft. Damn, he had been impressive enough soft. Erect his
master was damn well formidable. Banthas had smaller organs
than Qui-Gon.
Ah well, no going back now. He reached up and gently took the
heated length in hand, felt it throb warmly under his touch.
Had it been so long, he wondered, stroking the soft skin
lightly, that his master was ready to come at barely a touch?
Mischief was replaced by a surge of determination. Not if he
had anything to do with it. He may never have a chance to do
this again, he would be damned if he let it end so quickly.
Carefully Obi-Wan pushed back his master's foreskin, exposing
the crimson head of his shaft. It was already shiny with soft
fluid, a testament to Qui-Gon's sudden arousal and with a
secret smirk Obi-Wan leaned forward and lapped the clear liquid
away savoring the salty bitterness, his tongue probing the tiny
slit.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
A slight hesitation after the first touch left Qui-Gon's balls
aching and his insecurity stirring. Perhaps the problem was due
to his race; the only other beings here were Jaxtarians and
interspecies sexual contact might be distasteful if not
strictly forbidden. But a hand was curling on him, and fingers
were stroking his length gently, so gently that a shiver ran up
his spine.
He wondered about the being who was on the other side of the
wall, preparing to pleasure him. Was the other person old or
young? Beautiful or homely? Male or female? Somehow it didn't
matter; all that mattered was the gentleness of the hand on his
erection.
Qui-Gon relaxed suddenly, his intuitions telling him that he
was, quite literally, in good hands. The vulnerability of his
position was exquisite, in its way as much of a gift as the
gentle hands of the pleasurer on the opposite side of the wall,
who was stroking back his foreskin now with surprising
dexterity.
Then the tongue came again, teasing maddeningly around the
crown of his erection, truly tasting him for the first time.
Qui-Gon felt sweat beginning to bead on his temples, and
pressed his hips forward more firmly into the orifice that gave
him access to the sweetness of his unknown companion.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
As he alternated soft kisses and teasing licks down the length
of Qui- Gon's cock, it suddenly came to Obi-Wan that this was
not at all what he had expected. He had assumed that he would
feel some kind of degradation from this kind of servitude,
being forced to service someone in this manner but he realized
then that -he- was the one with the power. It was the patron
who was the vulnerable one, his master who was subject to his
whims.
Wrapping a hand around the base of the shaft to steady it,
Obi-Wan finally leaned forward and took the head into his
mouth. He heard Qui- Gon's cry as he did so, even muffled as it
was through the wall, and he smiled as best he could, flicking
his tongue against the plush softness that was resting just
inside his lips.
He sucked, very softly, pulling just a little more of the shaft
into his mouth. It pulsed lightly against his tongue, already
straining and Obi-Wan mentally shook his head. Not yet, Master,
oh, not yet, he thought, taking more of the hot length in and
stroking his tongue along the sensitive underside. He was going
to make this last if it killed both of them.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon was aware that in spite of his vow to control himself,
his breath had already begun to escape him in wild gasps. He
glanced around, embarrassed, but nobody seemed to be paying him
any attention. His companion was a tease, determinedly taking
things slowly, holding him in his mouth but not even sucking.
Qui-Gon wished he could clench hands into the other person's
hair, force him to speed his pace, but he was at the tender
mercy of the mouth behind the wall.
So much for his dignity.
With shaking hands he smoothed back his hair, allowing cool air
to strike his sweating throat. He was careful not to withdraw
himself from the wall, keeping his hips pressed firmly forward.
Yes, he was indeed glad that he had managed to leave his
apprentice behind.
He relaxed his hips, giving in to the strong will he sensed on
the opposite side of the wall. Perhaps it would be best
to permit himself to enjoy this, even to fantasize. A small
smile curved his lips as his imagination presented him with a
tantalizing image: his own Padawan kneeling before him on the
other side of the wall.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
A soft sigh escaped him as Obi-Wan relaxed his throat, taking
Qui-Gon's rather impressive cock as deeply as he could. He'd
never actually dreamed of doing this quite in this fashion but
now that he was, he certainly had no protests.
Qui-Gon seemed to be agreeing with him. Even not knowing who it
was that was pleasuring him, Qui-Gon had seemed to finally be
giving himself over to it, his only movements had been trying
to press deeper, as if he could push himself through the wall
and take his unknown lover.
So Qui-Gon would just give himself over like this to an
anonymous stranger, would he? Impulsively, Obi-Wan pulled
completely back, releasing Qui-Gon's shaft and letting it bob
free. Glistening wet with saliva, it seemed to strain towards
him. If a penis could beg, Qui- Gon's certainly was, he thought
with some amusement.
Leaning forward, he blew on the wet skin teasingly, watching as
Qui-Gon pulled back slightly, obviously shivering. Soft,
pleading whimpers were making their way through now and Obi-Wan
relented, again wrapping his lips around the tip and taking the
shaft in quickly this time, deeply as he sucked strongly.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon broke his vow of silence again, gasping as he was taken
deeply. Sweat broke out on his ribs and flanks; he could just
picture Obi-Wan taking him this way, the tilt and angle of his
Padawan's head, the expression on his face, his closed lids. Of
only this was his Padawan.
His lover drew back, blowing a cool chill over him that
shivered him in spite of the sweat on his body. Then the mouth
slid over him again, this time adding suction, and Qui-Gon
cried out low in his voice, surprised again, wishing he could
repay his mysterious lover in kind. He was being sucked at
last, but not steadily-- a maddening fluctuation of pressure
and style that led him teasingly and then denied him climax.
Qui-Gon put his head against the wall again. "Please," he
murmured, not even sure if he could be heard.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan barely heard the soft plea, so intent he was on what he
was doing, varying suction and the occasional flick of his
tongue as he kept carefully from a rhythm. He felt the single,
whispered word more than heard it, a faint vibration through
the Force and his own arousal sang within him.
He'd known this was his master, for who else could it be, but
feeling the unconscious Force-pressure Qui-Gon had put on the
word, as only a Jedi could have, proved it to him.
Obi-Wan slid his free hand down to his own erection, cupping it
through the fabric of his pants even as he surreptitiously
glanced around. No one said anything or made any move to stop
him. All the other servers were busily working away at their
own patrons. He stroked himself hard through his trousers, not
even trying to stop his faint moans, allowing them to vibrate
against the hard shaft in his mouth as he tightened his teeth
briefly, letting them graze the sensitive skin.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon felt his unseen lover respond to his soft plea, sucking
more rhythmically. The warm mouth on him vibrated, and the Jedi
Master blinked; it was not the steady thrum of humming, but the
soft jagged moans of arousal that caressed him. Whoever was
serving him was enjoying himself; his sensitized skin could
feel the puffs of rapid breathing.
Himself? Perhaps. Qui-Gon had a sudden conviction that fantasy
aside, this was a man who held him in his mouth. The
pitch of the moans proved it, if nothing else, a purr too low
to be a woman's voice.
Qui-Gon moaned too, yearning to hold and kiss and caress his
lover. As erotic and exciting as this was, it was not
enough, he wanted more. He would leave this place as
unsatisfied, or more unsatisfied, than when he arrived.
He wished he could make Obi-Wan moan that way.
Qui-Gon swallowed, the thought sending an arrow of heat
straight into his groin. He was not going to last much longer,
even given the erratic nature of the pleasuring. Suddenly he
realized he wanted his lover to hear him, wanted him to know
how well he was succeeding in his task.
"Yes," Qui-Gon groaned, pressing his cheek against the smooth
wall, feeling cold trickles of sweat down his back and over his
buttocks. "More. Yes. So good..."
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
More soft words were floating toward him and Obi-Wan felt his
own need spike, stroking himself harder even as he damned the
wall that was separating them. But complete anonymity was vital
to this service and even if he could reveal who he was, who was
to say Qui-Gon would not be horrified to find that it was his
own Padawan who was pleasuring him?
Enough. This might be his only chance to ever be this close to
Qui-Gon and he was not going to waste it on worries like that.
Instead, he concentrated on the hard cock in his mouth, the
hot, satiny feel of it against his tongue and his palm that was
still wrapped around the base.
Eyelashes fluttered down as Obi-Wan closed his eyes and
memorized every detail of this, the sweet-salt taste of Qui-Gon
skin, the tangy scent of his sweat. If all he would ever have
of this, of Qui-Gon, was this memory, then so be it. He found a
rhythm then, one that he had been trying to avoid but could no
longer resist. Stroking himself in time with his own pull and
release of Qui-Gon's shaft, he let go of his control, just for
a moment, wanting to simply feel this. His own moans were
escalating against his will even as he could hear Qui-Gon's
growing louder.
Not yet, his mind begged although his body screeched in
protest, please, not yet. Give me just a few more minutes, just
a few more!
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon felt his lover begin to work at him in earnest now, and
he struggled to delay the moment of his orgasm as long as
possible, suddenly strangely reluctant to let this strange
connection end. An act that was supposed to be erotically
impersonal had struck him with the very deep personality of it,
the very deep mystery of his terribly intimate connection with
an unknown other.
He was pressed against the wall as tightly as he could, every
inch of his body flat against its surface that could be brought
to bear. Closer to his lover. Words of passion and
encouragement tumbled from his lips, but he did not even see
the glances he was receiving, so caught up he was in the
moment.
It was happening, he could not restrain it much longer; he was
going to fill the hot mouth that surrounded him with his
essence, sharing himself in the most intimate way.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
The spoken words on the other side of the wall were getting
decidedly loud, loud enough that Obi-Wan could hear them easily
and it only made him want more, to want completion even as a
part of him wailed for what that would mean. He sucked
strongly, as deeply as he could, fighting back his gag reflex
as he pressed himself against the coolness of the wall. Closer,
he realized dimly, he was trying to get as close to the other
man as he possibly could.
The flash point arced through him like an electrical current,
traveling between his own flesh and his master's. Obi-Wan
nearly screamed, the sound muffled by the shaft filling his
mouth. Arching into his own hand, he retained only enough
presence of mind to suck hard, taking Qui-Gon's shaft as deeply
as he could.
He could dimly feel it straining, pulsing, spilling the bitter
evidence of Qui-Gon's pleasure against the stroking pad of his
tongue and he savored it, adding the flavor to his hidden
memories to be cherished later when this was reduced to a
memory.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon gasped as the hot mouth convulsed around him, sucking
almost painfully hard, seeming to sense his impending orgasm.
He surrendered to the stimulus of the talented mouth, sagging
against the wall and expending his pleasure into his unknown
lover, helpless as a babe.
His lover drank him down over a white-hot eternity, whorls of
Force- energy twining around him as sexual energy crested and
receded inside him. It was almost a physical blow when the hot
mouth released him, and his lover withdrew himself.
Qui-Gon lay against the wall, deep sobbing breaths husking in
his chest, berating himself for letting it end so quickly, and
for letting it touch him so deeply. Slowly withdrawing his body
from its receptacle, he reached his shaking forefingers through
the small hole, hoping against hope to touch his lover one last
time.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Sagging to the cushions around him, Obi-Wan struggled to even
out his gasping breaths. He had held on as long as he could,
gently soothed Qui-Gon's softening erection with soft strokes
of his tongue as long as he had dared, before he had finally
torn himself away.
Watching as Qui-Gon pulled away from the wall and disappeared
from his sight, Obi-Wan was horrified to feel his eyes
stinging. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his roiling
emotions even as he wished painfully that this had lasted just
a little longer, that he would have had just a little more time
to clutch this moment close. But there was no use regretting
things that couldn't be changed.
Grimacing at the damp patch on the front of his pants, Obi-Wan
shifted, about to climb to his feet. At least his time of
service was over. But before he could move, he caught movement
through the corner of his eye.
Through the hole in the wall, the tips of two fingers peeked
through. Human fingers, with pale human skin. Qui-Gon's
fingers. Hesitantly, he reached up and then drew back again.
No, this was a bad idea, really bad. If Qui-Gon touched him, he
might perceive something. He wasn't nearly as distracted as he
had been moments before. And yet...
Very lightly, he ran the tip of one finger down Qui-Gon's,
watched them flex in response. Warm, callused, and familiar, he
touched them one last time, gripping them briefly in his palm
before he pulled away and shifted back from the hole, just in
case Qui-Gon decided he wanted a peek at his lover as well.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Just as he was about to give up and pull his fingers away, the
gentle pressure of a fingertip, almost as delicate and loving
as the mysterious tongue, touched his fingers and moved over
them. Then his fingers were squeezed gently, reassuringly, and
he could sense whoever was behind the wall had withdrawn.
It was over.
Qui-Gon drew a deep, shaky breath and stepped away from the
wall, drawing his shoulders straight and wishing for just a
little more dignity. He assumed he had now provided adequate
service to the gods, and he hoped that they, and the leaders of
this benighted planet, were well-satisfied, because he
certainly wasn't going to go through this again.
Moving away from the wall, he caught the motion of someone
replacing him at the station he had used, and had to quash a
flicker of severe jealousy. It was not, after all, like he had
any personal connection with or claim on his unseen lover. Not
at all.
Saddened, he turned his back firmly and proceeded into the
dressing area. Opening the locker where he had left his clothes
and lightsaber, he heard a cordial voice greet him, and turned.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Leaning against the wall, Obi-Wan sensed another patron
approaching and stood hastily before he was trapped into
serving someone else. He had been quite prepared to perform for
a stranger when he had first walked in, ready to do his service
as a Jedi but now, with something far too close to pain
twisting in his stomach, the idea made him nauseous.
Another server took his place without even a glance and began
to work away at his client. Obi-Wan flinched away from the
sight that somehow seemed far cruder now and very nearly
revolting, watching the young man mechanically giving his
patron release.
Turning, he straightened his tunics, grateful that the length
hid the dampness of his trousers as he left the server area. He
had a little time before he was to meet his master perhaps
meditation was in order. No perhaps about it, he thought
ruefully. He needed a chance to set this aside and bury it deep
within, or else Qui-Gon would see the truth in his eyes the
moment that they met again.
But, oh, it had been so wonderful, for just that brief time.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for just a second and allowed himself a
moment to remember. And then someone bumped into him from
behind, dragging him back to the now. He apologized hastily and
started to walk again, towards the exit and he left without a
backwards glance.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
"Chamberlain," Qui-Gon greeted the Jaxtarian nobleman
courteously, but he was aware of a note of a chill in his
voice. He hoped the other man couldn't hear it.
"Master Jedi," the Chamberlain bowed deeply. "The Jaxtarian
people are grateful to the Jedi for honoring our gods. The
embassy's participation in the ceremony honors us all."
Qui-Gon bent a half-bow in return, hoping it would be enough to
satisfy propriety. He needed to get away, to meditate and find
his center, to ponder why he was so devastated by this. His
response was outside the boundaries of reason. However, the
Chamberlain was still staring at him, beaming officiously, and
Qui-Gon knew more would be required. "It was my pleasure to
accept the responsibility to your gods and to honor the
Jaxtarian people," he essayed, mentally cursing all diplomats
and the Chamberlain in particular.
"Indeed," the Chamberlain approved warmly. "We had no idea Jedi
were so skilled in the gift and receipt of pleasure."
Qui-Gon nodded absently, snugging his sash around his waist and
reaching for his robe. Then a thought struck him. "The gift of
pleasure?" Force curse it, they couldn't expect him to take a
turn on the other side of the wall, could they?
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Barely outside the door, Obi-Wan nearly ran into the young man
who was the Chamberlain's assistant. Stepping back, he bowed
hastily even as he mentally sighed over his luck today. If
there truly were gods for the Jaxtarian people, they were not
on his side today.
The young man returned the bow. "The Chamberlain wanted me to
tell you that we were most pleased with and honored by your
gift to the gods and that we thank you for it."
"The honor was mine," Obi-Wan replied, wincing at the
mechanical tone to his voice. He bowed again and moved to walk
away but the young man caught his arm.
"Perhaps now that you have served the gods you would now like
to care for your own needs? A more personal touch?" Even if the
young man hadn't spoken, the faint pulses of desire that were
transmitting through his touch on Obi-Wan's arm made his
meaning clear.
Gently he disentangled himself, managing a weak smile for the
confused boy. "I thank you," he said, bowing yet again, "But I
think that I've had all the personal touches that I can handle
for this moment." The feel of a single finger against his own,
straining for a single touch, was more than enough.
The young man nodded and released him and Obi-Wan finally made
his escape, walking as quickly as propriety allowed to his
chambers.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"Of course there was a gift of pleasure, Master Jedi. You and
your Padawan served the gods well."
Qui-Gon stared at the Chamberlain, deliberately tamping down
both insane fury and unreasoning panic. "My Padawan?"
"Yes, Master Jinn. Our records indicated he is above the age of
consent, and when we asked him, just as we asked you, he
agreed." The Chamberlain began to look upset. "Is there a
problem, Sir Jedi?"
Qui-Gon stared at him for a long moment, searching for a
diplomatic answer. His mind flickered wildly between his image
of the first man he'd seen being pleasured, and his own
desperate abandon. Had Obi- Wan... Obi-Wan had. Oh, Force,
Obi-Wan had; that explained it all. He blinked, helpless dismay
welling in him.
"It was so convenient, Sir Jedi, that you had one of your own
species to serve you," the Chamberlain's tones were
ingratiating. "He knew well what you would like, yes?"
"Excuse me," Qui-Gon spoke faintly. "I must go meditate; it is
the way of the Jedi to balance passion with serenity." He
managed a bow and shouldered out, leaving the bewildered
Chamberlain fretting in his wake.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Breathing deeply and easily, Obi-Wan allowed his sense of the
Force to expand out in rippling waves, releasing tension and
replacing it with calm. He was kneeling on a thin meditation
mat, slowly working his way through the shock of emotion that
he had felt barely a half hour before. He could deal with this,
he could. He had to if he was going to be able to face Qui-Gon
again.
Earlier he had been so eager for this experience with his
master, why hadn't he considered the repercussions? Like the
aching sorrow he felt when he thought of his master, who had
probably already dismissed it as a duty and a chore.
Resolutely, he again focused on calm. If Qui-Gon chose to
forget it, then so be it. He would still hold the memory deep
inside and that would be good enough.
A faint haze of discontent was making itself known through his
expanded awareness of the Force. No, not discontent but
something he couldn't quite place. It was hovering just on the
other side of his perception and he pulled his consciousness
back within, opening his eyes to see that Qui-Gon had already
returned and was standing just inside the door.
-=<Qui-Gon=-
"Padawan," Qui-Gon greeted his apprentice gravely. "I believe
you made a sacrifice today that should not have been required
of you." He watched his apprentice flush crimson, and could
feel the scattered shreds of peace Obi-Wan had gathered during
meditation blown away like shreds of mist in a gale.
"Had I known that you would be asked, I would have taken steps
to intervene and see to it that you were spared." Qui-Gon
stepped forward, watching Obi-Wan's eyes uncomfortably. "Are
you... quite able to deal with what you experienced, Obi-Wan?"
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan felt his face heat at his master's words. So much for
keeping this a secret. He wet his lips nervously, searching for
something to say that wouldn't make this worse. Qui-Gon looked
somewhat ill at ease with this. Of course he would have to play
the perfect master and discuss this instead of just ignoring
it.
Qui-Gon hadn't moved from the doorway and was obviously still
waiting for Obi-Wan's response. The young man searched for
something appropriate, something that could ease the growing
tension that was hanging thickly in the air.
"Yes," he said finally, truthfully. He couldn't lie and he
couldn't display serenity he didn't feel. All he had was
honesty and that he would give his master, regardless. "Yes,"
he said again, aware of the faint huskiness in his voice as he
again remembered. "I can deal with this."
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"That is well," Qui-Gon said, his voice distant and
unemotional. "For I find that I cannot." He turned aside from
his Padawan's suddenly agonized gaze, tucking his hands into
his sleeves automatically.
"I would not have had it be that way, if it were to happen
between us." Qui-Gon stepped to a narrow window and gazed out
into the palace grounds. "And I would not have had it happen
before you reached Knighthood, my Obi-Wan."
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
For a moment, Obi-Wan feared that his heart would stop, hearing
his master's words. Protests trembled on his lips, unspoken. It
hadn't been his fault, he had agreed to participate but he
hadn't chosen Qui-Gon, he hadn't done this deliberately. But he
said nothing, tears burning the backs of his eyes and
thickening in his throat.
He had not done it deliberately, that was true. But he could
not say that he wouldn't have, given the chance. Balanced on a
razor edge of near despair and guilt he almost missed what his
master said next and the softly spoken words made wild hope
flare within him.
Carefully, Obi-Wan stood, pausing to stretch the protesting
muscles in his legs before he took a step towards his master
and another until he was standing behind Qui-Gon. His master
was gazing out the window, his head tilted forward so that his
face was hidden by the curtain of his hair.
"Not like that," Obi-Wan replied quietly, "Not before my trials
but not never to happen?"
A faint stiffening of the shoulders was his only response and
Obi-Wan took a step closer. "Master?" And then very softly,
"Qui-Gon?"
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat. It had not been wise to
confront his apprentice so swiftly; his own ill-considered
words had betrayed him. He drew into himself instinctively,
hunching his shoulders around pain and fear. "After your
trials..." his voice trailed away, and he could feel the
keenness of Obi-Wan's gaze through the thin shield of his hair.
"After your trials, I would be willing to consider granting you
anything you might desire of me, Obi-Wan."
He turned abruptly away from the window. "But not now. Not yet.
You are not ready." He could sense Obi-Wan's hope, his
determination, and his courage failed him. If he could not make
this point stick, would he ever be able to command his
apprentice again? If this regrettable incident had spoiled his
Padawan's training, he would see to it that the Jaxtarians
never saw the courtesy of Jedi mediation again; he would--
He caught a breath, reining in his desperate temper. He would
behave like a proper Jedi and accept the consequences serenely.
Only, he couldn't. Not if he risked losing the one thing that
meant the most to him of anything in the galaxy: his precious
Obi-Wan.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Only a tiny distance between them, not even half a meter and
yet to Obi-Wan in yawned in front of him like a great canyon.
Qui-Gon's shields were paper-thin and he could feel the
conflicting emotions warring within the older man.
If Obi-Wan were to push, if he were to take that last step and
touch his master, then he sensed that he would win and that
Qui-Gon would turn to him as a flower turns to the sun.
Instead, he lowered his head, tucking his hands in his sleeves
in an unconscious imitation of the man before him. He bowed,
low, and held the pose for a long moment, until Qui-Gon's head
turned just a fraction, enough to see him through the loose
strands of his hair.
"As you will, my Master," he said simply. This was not a battle
to be won or lost; it was a matter of duty, just as the
incident earlier had been. And if this was how Qui-Gon felt,
then it was his duty as Padawan to obey.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"We shall wait, then," Qui-Gon sounded both disappointed and
relieved. "And perhaps we may discuss this again one day." His
voice inclined faintly, making the statement a question, but he
did not pause for its answer.
"I am proud of you, my Obi-Wan," he reached out and slid his
hand under his apprentice's jaw, tilting the bowed head so that
Obi-Wan's gaze met his. "Every day, my Padawan, you honor me
with your strength. You are already becoming a fine Jedi." His
thumb brushed hesitantly over the smooth cheek, and he let his
longing and regret flicker in his eyes.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan allowed himself to lean into the gentle touch on his
cheek for the briefest of moments and then he took a deep
breath and forced himself to pull away. No use tormenting the
both of them.
"I'm very glad that you think so, Master, but may I at least
hope that our next mission isn't so trying on my strength of
will?" He let wry humor seep into his voice and was relieved to
see the same on his master's face.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"I have a feeling that our wills may be tried even more
severely in the months and years to come," Qui-Gon murmured,
his eyes sparkling down into Obi-Wan's with sudden, fond
amusement. Before the young man could protest, he caught
Obi-Wan's face between his palms and devoured his Padawan's
mouth, tongue delving deep into the startled but welcoming
sweetness. Obi-Wan's passionate groan resonated against his
chest and his Padawan's arms slid around his neck.
He dragged Obi-Wan tightly against his body, striving to make
the kiss one that would endure them through the long months
until the young man would be deemed ready for his Trials. He
could feel his Padawan's mind opening to him, feel the surety
and depth of the young man's love and desire. Wait for me,
love, and I will be there for you, he promised silently.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Too startled to even respond for a moment, Obi-Wan could only
stand there, stunned, in Qui-Gon's embrace. And then the
feeling of Qui- Gon's tongue stroking deeply into his mouth,
coaxing-- no, demanding more-- dragged a helpless moan from
him. He wrapped his arms around his master's shoulders, pulling
him down to return the embrace with equal fervor.
Pouring every bit of the longing and need he had been holding
back for the past years, and would continue to hold back for
some time to come, Obi-Wan added the wet warmth and sweet taste
of Qui-Gon's mouth to his list of memories for the day.
Finally, reluctantly, he started to pull back, feeling
Qui-Gon's regret as keenly as his own as he pressed soft
parting kisses on Qui-Gon's reddened lips.
I love you, he sent, silently, not daring to speak it
aloud as he pressed a final, desperate kiss to Qui-Gon's parted
lips, letting his tongue flicker against them before he pulled
back with a sigh, folding his hands into his sleeves and
gripping them tightly.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"As I love you," he spoke aloud in response to the desperate
thought, stroking Obi-Wan's face for a final time before
dropping his hands, letting them trail slowly over Obi-Wan's
body until they fell away from it. "Come, Padawan. We are
wanted at Court."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan responded, and Qui-Gon let his hand
touch the small of the young man's back as he guided his
Padawan from the room.
-end-
Well, that's it. Do you have an idea of who we are? Let us know
at TheGreatGonzo068@aol.com If you figure it out, we'll write a
sequel with hot Jedi monkey luv in it. Come on, give it your
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