A strenuous workout, his inner turmoil and very little food
made for an exhausted Obi-Wan. The boys returned late
afternoon, filled with remorse that they'd been unable to find
his boots. They promised they weren't finished looking yet,
though, and Obi-Wan believed them. He no choice but to have
faith in them.
Their attempts at reconciliation stopped short of getting
physical. They offered gentle, non-sexual embraces and tried to
comfort with soft words and promises. Obi-Wan could not stay
angry, though the hurt lingered.
They curled up on Obi-Wan's bed for a rest before evening
meal, and Obi-Wan fell asleep with ease, letting his mind go
blank.
He wasn't sure what roused him, but he thought he heard soft
voices outside his bedroom, in the common area. He let himself
drift, in between wakefulness and dreaming, where the two
sometimes merged. Oh, this part was a dream, he realized,
hearing Qui-Gon's voice intermingle with that of the Laridian
patriarch. He let himself float closer to the dream, relieved
that this time he hadn't forgotten his Master.
"They tried to make him happy, Qui-Gon, but it's become
obvious that it will never truly happen. Sometimes the boy
cries out his sadness without even realizing it."
"No matter how much your boys care for him, it can't change
the fact that this is not his home. It's not their fault." That
would be just like Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan thought, to make sure the
Laridians didn't blame themselves for their Pisan's
unhappiness.
"You'll take him home to Darona?"
"I'll take him home..."
Home? The voices didn't carry that echo of sleep that dream
voices did, he realized. Obi-Wan tried to lift the blanket of
sleep from his mind. He stretched, his muscles filling with
oxygen, and he yawned silently, waking his mind as well.
Sitting up straight, he found himself looking at the solemn
expression of Ison Laridian, standing at the edge of the bed,
and just behind him...
Qui-Gon? That same crooked smile, and those same large, gentle
hands. He was awake, and Qui-Gon was right there, in the
bedroom he shared with Cason and Eron-- his room as Pisan.
His jaw dropped as he looked from one man to the other.
Qui-Gon slowly inched forward until he was beside Ison.
No, this wasn't right. His Master didn't belong here! Qui-Gon
was from his Jedi world, this was his Pisan world, they
shouldn't... his worlds had collided, realities clashed, and
two very different Obi-Wans warred with one another.
The Padawan wanted to leap up and embrace his Master and then
wait for the rebuke over his behavior on Alderaan that got him
kidnapped. But he was... he couldn't lie to himself; he'd
become a Pisan, willing from the outset or not. He'd been with
the boys for almost a quarter, he'd let them love him in myriad
ways and positions in that time, in this very bed.
Cason and Eron roused next to him and sat up as well,
drowsiness instantly banished.
"Boys, this is Qui-Gon Jinn. He's from Obi-Wan's home world."
Cason turned to Obi-Wan, worry already in his eyes. "The
sketch. The is the one from your home that you missed so much."
"You're leaving us," Eron breathed, only a hint of accusation
in his eyes.
Obi-Wan nodded, caught between four gazes that settled on him.
He was only shirtless, but he'd never felt so naked, so
exposed. What did each of these men see when they looked upon
him? What would Obi-Wan see if he looked upon himself? What did
he do now? Surely this dreadful silence wasn't stretching out
as long as Obi-Wan thought it was?
"Cason, Eron... Qui-Gon is indeed here to take him home." Ison
broke the news without preamble, but in a soft tone.
Both boys looked stricken.
Obi-Wan's felt as if his heart was crushed. All this quarter,
he'd been waiting for the time when Qui-Gon would find him and
take him home, away from what he'd allowed himself to become.
But until that very moment, he hadn't thought once about the
emotional investment that Cason and Eron had made in him.
They'd expected Obi-Wan to be with them for a lifetime. Obi-Wan
had known all along it would eventually end. The boys had not.
"Look into your hearts, boys, and look into his again. He
can't ever be happy here, not the way he should be. He belongs
at his real home, and Qui-Gon can make that happen."
Cason and Eron turned their gazes to Qui-Gon. He saw his
master quirk an eyebrow, very subtly. The boys must have been
reading his emotions, and from the look of it, Qui-Gon allowed
it.
"You'll care for him," Eron said, his voice slightly cracking
and yet still managing to make his words a command.
"I will," Qui-Gon promised.
Obi-Wan turned to Cason. A tear leaked from the other boy's
eye as he spoke. "We love you and we want you to be happy. Even
if being happy means leaving us."
Obi-Wan moved off the bed to fully face the twins. For the
first time, he really truly allowed himself to see the
compassion within them. He hadn't needed the Force to see, he'd
only needed to open his eyes. He'd been much more than their
bed toy; he'd been the hope of a lifetime of physical and
emotional fulfillment. They'd learned more from Risa than she'd
realized.
For the first time, Obi-Wan truly realized that Cason and Eron
were as much Avon-Durr's victims as he and Qui-Gon were. The
boys had lost a lifetime companion, Qui-Gon had lost his
Padawan, and Obi-Wan? He supposed he'd lost himself.
His hand shaking, he caressed Eron's cheek, with the back of
his fingers. It was the first time he'd returned this Pilanian
gesture of affection. Then he turned to Cason, the other boy's
tears already falling a little more freely. He repeated the
gesture, his heart clenching when the young man inclined into
the touch so very subtly. One last kiss to each forehead and he
turned to his Master.
"Shall I take you home now, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's eyes were
gentle, but he could see more than a little confusion in them.
Obi-Wan nodded and padded to the dresser to search for his old
tunic. He then looked down at his feet. The feet of a Pisan?
"Perhaps you're looking for these?"
Obi-Wan turned. Qui-Gon held his boots.
His throat constricted as he went to retrieve them. He didn't
know if Qui-Gon could understand him, with the interference of
the collar, but as he took the boots, he projected a heartfelt
thank you.
He was rewarded with a ruffling of the spikes of his hair,
followed by the familiar gesture of Qui-Gon smoothing them down
again. Oh. He'd missed that so much.
Eron and Cason had remained in the common room of their
quarters when Obi-Wan left. He'd seen Risa briefly as Ison
escorted them to the elevator. She'd smiled sadly, but her eyes
seemed to tell him that she understood.
As he boarded the shuttle to the spaceport with Qui-Gon,
Obi-Wan looked up towards the boys' quarters of the estate.
They were pressed against the wide window watching him. He
stood for a moment, even at this distance able to tell one twin
from the other. Cason's head was bowed a little lower, and
Eron's palm was outstretched against the plexiglass. He
swallowed the lump in his throat and only turned to go up the
ramp when Qui-Gon's hand settled gently on his shoulder.
He followed Qui-Gon numbly as they made their way though the
spaceport to the chartered ship that would take them back to
Coruscant. He'd thought much of going home, but he'd never
imagined what the actual getting there would be like. He didn't
imagine that he would feel so awkward, so out of place.
It wasn't until they were settled into their cabin of the ship
and had jumped to hyperspace, that he realized what part of the
problem was.
Qui-Gon fished around in the inside pocket of his tunic, a
soft, "Ah, here it is," escaping his lips as he brought his
hand back out. A tiny key.
"Now, let's get this collar off, hmm?"
Oh! Of course. Qui-Gon found the lock easily, and seconds
later, the collar dropped to the floor with a soft thud. The
Force welcomed him with a rush of warmth and life. It felt so
good!
"Better?"
Smiling gratefully, Obi-Wan nodded.
"Now, let's see what we have in the galley to eat. Or would
you rather rest?" Qui-Gon asked and picked up the collar to put
it in his pack.
Obi-Wan shrugged. He was hungry, but he wasn't sure he wanted
to wander into the co-pilot or the other passenger, a Pilanian
he'd seen boarding.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon turned from his pack, his expression
concerned.
He waited patiently for his Master to ask whatever was on his
mind.
"The collar is gone, Obi-Wan. Does your throat hurt?"
Obi-Wan was stunned. Had it really become instinct in so short
a time not to speak?
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What was he
supposed to say? His throat didn't hurt, no. He should just let
the words, no Master, my throat is fine, spill from his lips.
The words never came. Why couldn't he speak?
Qui-Gon's hand settled over his neck, warm pulses of energy
making his throat relax. Still nothing. What was wrong with
him?
Qui-Gon's hand remained a moment longer, and he felt his
Master brush his mind with gentle encouragement.
"Now, try it, please. Just a few words."
He paused.
"I'm sorry." Softly, slowly, a bit gravelly, they came out.
Qui-Gon's eyes settled on him with compassion. "You've nothing
to be sorry about. Is that understood?"
Grateful, Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon sighed.
"You'll speak more freely soon. You just need some time to let
your mind realize that it won't hurt."
Obi-Wan again nodded, then gathered himself to ask, "Food?"
Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan had never seen anything so
welcoming in his life. "Let's see what they have for us."
The Council was slightly less understanding when it came to
Obi-Wan's ability to speak. Seeing that he was unharmed
physically, they had tried to debrief him immediately upon
arriving at the temple. He stood straight beside his Master
while Councilors asked him questions. He answered Mace Windu's
first question, had he heard of Avon-Durr before the abduction,
with a shake of his head.
Adi Gallia's question, did Avon-Durr give any indication of
where he could be found on Pilani, other than the Pisan
brokerage office he vacated, Obi-Wan similarly answered with a
shake of his head.
When he shook his head no to Depa Billaba in answer to whether
Durr had explained why he wanted revenge on Qui-Gon, he knew he
had finally reached the end of the Council's patience.
Mace Windu leaned forward. "Padawan Kenobi, other than the
Force and voice inhibiting collar, you were found not only
unharmed, but in a most debauched situation. Your holiday is at
an end. Pull yourself together and answer our questions."
Holiday? Rage brewed in Obi-Wan's stomach and made him clench
his fists. He had to pretend to whore himself for life in order
to play along with Avon-Durr's deadly game, and that
Sith-Sucking bastard Mace Windu had the gall to refer to his
ordeal as a fucking holiday?
"Obi-Wan!"
He turned his glare to Qui-Gon and saw the alarm in his
Master's eyes. For a long moment, he just stared into their
blue depths curiously, his anger still bubbling within him.
Would Qui-Gon question his ordeal now as well? Then he felt a
soothing wash of calm ripple over and through him, followed by
a mental shield. Qui-Gon was shielding him from the Council?
No, shielding the Council from him.
He turned back to Mace Windu. His dark features were frozen
into a tableau of shock. He thought he saw an uncharacteristic
smirk from Ki-Adi Mundi, and he was certain he saw a quirked
eyebrow from Depa Billaba.
Qui-Gon settled his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, projecting
calm, and addressed the Council himself. "He is not ready for
this. He barely slept at all during the five days en route to
the Temple; I told you that when I last reported in. Do not
trivialize his ordeal."
"Point taken. It would appear that his control of the Force,
particularly his temper, has suffered from the effects of that
collar." Windu's calm had returned, but he still looked at
Obi-Wan with suspicion, it seemed.
"The first thing I'm going to do is take him to the infirmary,
and then I'm taking him to our quarters and try to get him to
sleep. You will have to make do with a written report from him
when he awakens." With Qui-Gon's pronouncement, Obi-Wan finally
began to relax. He felt the heat in his face gradually
dissipate, but he could not break the compelling eye contact
with Mace.
"Contact us you will, when he is able to speak with us, hmm?"
Yoda piped in for the first time. In fact, Obi-Wan had barely
acknowledged his presence. Odd, but it seemed to Obi-Wan that
Yoda had purposely made his presence feel inconsequential until
that moment... as if he had wanted to remain detached
throughout this meeting. Finally noticing the old Master's
presence was what drew Obi-Wan's eyes from Mace Windu's.
"Of course, Master. I'll contact you as soon as I have news of
his recovery."
"Very well," Yoda replied, his eyes reflecting a rare
softness.
"Then we'll take our leave of you now," Qui-Gon said and bowed
shortly, Obi-Wan following suit.
"Be well, Padawan," Yoda added as they were just turning to
leave.
Obi-Wan stopped, nodded, and replied "Thank you."
It sounded painful even to his own ears, but it felt
important.
During the elevator ride down from the Council's tower,
Obi-Wan studied the toes of his boots with great interest. Of
course, he wasn't fooling Qui-Gon. "Obi-Wan, do you realize how
serious a matter it is, to have a Padawan stolen from us? Right
from under our noses? The Council is concerned. You must
understand that." From Qui-Gon's tone, Obi-Wan interpreted a
light reprimand for his behavior as well an apology on behalf
of the Council.
He did understand, but it did not help to have his ordeal
whittled down to a decadent romp with the Laridian boys.
"Seems to me, my Padawan, that you need reminding of that fact
as much as the Council does." That brought his head up to meet
Qui-Gon's eyes. "Yes, Obi-Wan, your shielding is that lacking.
Sith Sucking bastard?" Qui-Gon finally chuckled. "I've never
quite seen that expression on Mace's face."
Obi-Wan groaned. No wonder Qui-Gon had to erect shields for
him in the Council chamber. But what was that about him needing
to be reminded that his experience was more than a quarter-long
affair? Obi-Wan had been there, he knew it for what it was. He
needed no reminding. "Apparently, you do, Obi-Wan. You seem
intent on surrounding yourself with guilt."
"Stop it!" He suddenly grated.
"Stop what?" Qui-Gon asked as they rounded the corner to the
infirmary tower.
"My... private... thoughts."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Look at it this way, Obi-Wan. You now have
incentive to learn to shield again. I'll stop listening to your
thoughts and responding to them, when you have more ability to
keep them to yourself."
Sith Fucked son of a--
"I heard that."
Qui-Gon entered the main entrance to the infirmary just ahead
of a seething Obi-Wan.
It was the Healers' conclusion that Obi-Wan's shields suffered
most when he was emotionally agitated. Therefore, he was to
spend the next three days doing as much relaxing as possible--
as far from other Jedi presence as possible while at the
Temple. He would be permitted to submit his report to the
Council, via datapad, but he was otherwise not to resume his
usual training.
That report and his shielding exercises were to be the extent
of his official duties for those three days, until his next
follow-up visit to the infirmary. Qui-Gon would check the
fitness halls for others before Obi-Wan would be permitted to
enter. The good news was that he would have the halls to
himself, save for Qui-Gon. He decided that the pool would be
his first choice, and hoped Qui-Gon would find some vacant time
slots for him.
Released into Qui-Gon's care, he had one more set of
instructions. Try to actually sleep. Hmm. Well, he'd have to
see about that one.
It was mid-evening by the time they actually reached their
quarters. The first thing Obi-Wan did was go to the cupboard of
the kitchenette area to retrieve a dust cloth. Qui-Gon grinned
at him fondly and explained he hadn't been around much the past
quarter. He'd been off planet most of the quarter, looking for
his Padawan.
"You found me."
"I did."
Obi-Wan shuffled his feet a little, worrying at the edges of
the dust cloth, at a loss for how to continue.
"You were worried that I would not?"
Obi-Wan nodded.
"I think that I actually found you a little earlier than Durr
planned. I think he wanted to make you sweat it out, to make
you worry more that I wouldn't make it before the quarter trial
period. My break was finding your boots once I got the tip to
check Pilani."
"What would I have done?" he asked softly, now practically
shredding the cloth.
"If you'd had to make the lifetime Pisan agreement?"
His throat tight, Obi-Wan nodded.
"I don't know for certain.. But if you'd thought you'd be
killed if you did not agree, I believe you would have agreed.
You would not have been held to it, Obi-Wan. I had the luxury
of sparing that family the hurt of knowing how you came to
them. I could not have spared them that if it came down to
bringing you home."
"I. I don't want them to know."
"I know," Qui-Gon replied gently. "And there is no reason for
them to. But because of this ordeal, the Republic will be
sending a Jedi team to help regulate the brokerage of Pisans
who are non-Pilani to ensure that coercion is not a factor.
Pilanian empathy did not prevent your dilemma. It might not
prevent others."
Sighing, Obi-Wan nodded again.
"Obi-Wan? Is there something else about your experience you
wish to share? Or ask about?"
"Pilanians are... gentle with Pisans, and yet, a Pisan is
still."
"Still expected to perform sexually? To be available for their
owners' physical needs?"
Obi-Wan's stomach began to flutter with nervousness at the
topic. He raised his eyes to Qui-Gon's and nodded. He needed to
talk about this-- or at least listen to what his Master had to
say about the subject.
"Yes. Well, Pilanian culture is quite different from those
you've encountered. I have to admit that there are aspects of
the Pisan arrangement I don't quite understand myself."
Obi-Wan frowned. Not a satisfying answer.
Qui-Gon grinned and continued. "Oh, my young Padawan. That is
one of life's toughest lessons; there is not an answer for
everything. However, I can tell you that with Pilanian empathy,
it is almost unheard of for a Pisan arrangement to be
unsatisfactory for the Pisan or the buyer. It is just the
natural order of things for their culture. A person with one
need finds another person with a different need. Together they
find mutual fulfillment."
"Simple as that?" Obi-Wan was incredulous. It was certainly
not that simple for himself. He could not fathom that it was
that simple for most Pilanians.
"Not simple, Obi-Wan. It simply is. It is the Pilanian way,
and even through difficult adjustments, it works for them.
That's why the Republic has been loathe to interfere."
"Now they will. Because of me."
Qui-Gon closed the short distance between them and took the
destroyed dust cloth from Obi-Wan's fingers.
"Your experience has shown that when it comes to
non-Pilanians, Republic interference is now necessary. This is
not another excuse to heap blame upon yourself. Now, sit down
at the table while I put together some dinner. We'll worry
about getting our quarters into shape tomorrow."
Qui-Gon was right. He was looking for excuses to feel guilty.
He'd have to meditate on that before bed.
"As I knew you would."
Obi-Wan bit back an irritated remark about Qui-Gon continually
responding to his thoughts. His Master was right on that
account as well. He'd have to work on his shielding to be free
of that, and it would definitely be incentive. He'd also have
to be mindful of his emotional state. The more emotional he
became, the more Qui-Gon could hear. His comfort was the
knowledge that surface thoughts were much more vulnerable than
the private corners of his mind he wanted to remain hidden.
For the third time that night, Obi-Wan bolted awake feeling
disoriented, confused, and so painfully hard. With an exhausted
sigh, he flopped back to his pillow and slipped his hand under
his sheet to fondle his balls. He'd had to creep into the
refresher many times a night on the transport home to deal with
this. At least now he had the comfort and privacy of his own
bed.
Needing more than a quick jerk off, though, Obi-Wan cast his
eyes around his room. He needed penetration, and he needed it
soon. Nothing suitable. Damn it all!
Obi-Wan regulated his breathing and tried to calm himself so
that his agitation didn't leak through to Qui-Gon. Last thing
he wanted was to wake his Master with this insatiable need.
Well, he at least found a bottle of massage oil, he quietly
griped to himself as he settled back on his bed. He'd have to
make do with his own finger for the time being, though.
That turned out to be a ridiculous round of groping and
shifting on the bed. He could reach between his legs while on
his back to get to his opening, but then his arm blocked him
too much from stroking his cock. So he settled on his knees
instead, sitting upright, and reached behind him with a slick
middle finger, and grasped his cock with his other hand.
Not quite big enough, but the full feeling of his finger was
welcome anyway. He wriggled it around inside of himself and
sighed as the sensations became more and more pleasant. He
stroked himself harder, gripping tighter, trying to wring
sensation out of himself, yearning for a level of intensity
that was so far out of his reach.
At last, the skin of his cock becoming almost raw, he came,
spasms gripping his penetrating finger, and spurts of come
pouring over his fist.
Panting lightly, his head dropped. It wasn't close to what he
needed, but it would help him get a couple hours sleep. He
wiped his hands on the towel beside his bed and sprawled under
his sheet. A couple hours sleep, and then tomorrow he would
figure out how to get what he needed.
Qui-Gon was indeed able to secure one of the pool areas for
Obi-Wan's use the following day. Although he wasn't supposed to
be training, he did relish the opportunity to test other skills
that had been neglected due to the collar. He was pleased that
he could hold his breath and stay under for nearly as long as
before his capture, and that his times on the 100 meter laps
had not suffered inordinately. It wouldn't take long at all to
get himself back up to par again, and that realization was very
appreciated by his fluctuating self confidence.
When he pulled himself out of the water, he saw Qui-Gon
smiling at him. His belly warmed and he smiled back.
"You're more centered than you've been since I found you. I
barely heard a word you said under there."
Obi-Wan chuckled. "I'm feeling more like me again."
A concerned expression crossed over Qui-Gon's face, briefly
and then he was smiling again. A little more gently? "You've
always been you, Obi-Wan. It's just that sometimes we discover
new aspects of ourselves."
He didn't like the sound of that. Instead of dwelling on it,
though, he shrugged it away and nodded agreement with his
Master. "Free time now?" he asked with a hopeful grin.
"Yes, my Padawan, you may have your free time. Do be careful,
please? Coruscant is home, but until Avon-Durr is found, watch
where you go. No going to the lower levels until it's safe."
Obi-Wan bowed obediently. He didn't want to be treated like a
child, but he could see the genuine worry in Qui-Gon's eyes. He
wouldn't further burden his Master with additional worries
about his safety. "Home before evening meal?"
"That will suffice, Obi-Wan, yes."
A quick goodbye with an additional assurance that he would be
mindful, and Obi-Wan was turned loose on the whole of
Coruscant-- excepting the lower levels. He would not defy
Qui-Gon on that.
Of course, that meant that he had to go to more upscale
establishments to get what he needed. And that, of course,
meant it would cost him more. He sighed as he looked out the
window of the sky taxi. He loved watching the air traffic on
Coruscant. So many people, all so different, all gathered in
this melting pot of a planet. Somewhere in this melting pot,
he'd find a retailer who had what he wanted at a reasonable
price.
Arriving at a more eclectic shopping district, Obi-Wan exited
the taxi and headed for a kiosk to look for shop listings.
There. The Frivolous Feather? Obi-Wan had to laugh at that. But
it was indeed the place he wanted. The description read:
Sensual aids for the discriminating user. Quality products,
affordably priced.
Two towers over, 50th floor, the listing showed him. At a
brisk walk, he found the moving skywalk to the adjoining
towers. Once he found the right floor, he felt like he'd
stepped into another world. The floor was certainly colorful,
in an artificial way. There was a mixture of cafes, shops and
drinking establishments, and the mood of the area was generally
carefree, despite the gaudiness.
He found The Frivolous Feather right away. He couldn't miss it
with the array of intergalactic phalluses lining the shop
window. Well, he sighed to himself, life was constantly
surprising him with its diversity and various tastes. He just
hoped his little trip to this particular district didn't give
him dreams about plastic Mon Calamarian sex organs.
His purchases under his cloak, Obi-Wan nodded hello to Qui-Gon
and dashed straight to his room. He hoped Qui-Gon didn't notice
the color in his cheeks, as much as he hoped his emotions were
under sufficient control that he wasn't broadcasting his
thoughts. He stashed his new 'sensual aids' in his closet and
casually made his way into the kitchenette area.
"Have a nice afternoon?" Qui-Gon asked without looking up from
his chopping of vegetables.
"Yes, thank you." Obi-Wan hovered self-consciously in the
doorway.
"Well, come have a seat. We're just about ready to eat."
"Can I help?"
Qui-Gon turned to him and with a fond gaze replied, "Thank
you, no. Just relax, Obi-Wan."
He sighed and sat. Of course, Qui-Gon could pick up that he
was nervous about something. If he didn't want his Master to
know the specifics, he'd have to do as he'd suggested and
relax. Deep breaths helped him tremendously.
As they tucked in to their meal, Obi-Wan began to watch
Qui-Gon curiously. His Master seemed to be regarding him with a
rather. indulgent expression. Qui-Gon hadn't looked upon him
quite that way for years, it seemed, and yet Obi-Wan wasn't
bothered by it. It didn't feel like Qui-Gon was looking at him
as if he was a child, it was more like Qui-Gon was looking at
him as if. as if he was letting Obi-Wan have his way?
"What's so funny?" Obi-Wan asked, rather defensively, when
Qui-Gon began to chuckle as he chewed.
"You, my Padawan. Can't you just accept that I'm happy to have
you back-- so much so that for at least a little while I have
the desire to indulge you?"
Obi-Wan grinned. "But you don't even know what this particular
indulgence is."
"Ah, but I know you. That's enough." Qui-Gon's smile gentled,
and Obi-Wan's insides began to melt. Qui-Gon must have been
worried sick about him while he was gone. That, Obi-Wan
realized, was why he was indulging Qui-Gon's indulgence of him.
"I believe," Qui-Gon added, "you just uttered the longest
sentence in a long time. I think you're getting better,
Obi-Wan."
"I hope." Why did he feel a sliver of apprehension?
"Have faith. I do."
Oh. To hear that from his Master was such a balm. Qui-Gon
wouldn't lie to him. If he said he believed, he believed. He
felt himself relax again.
"Very good, Padawan. After our meal, we'll run through your
shielding skills."
It was an exercise in intricate Force control, to use it along
with his innate abilities to keep his thoughts to himself. As
always, he imagined a large dam as his shielding, his thoughts
the water. When he was in turmoil, his thoughts became
tumultuous and many of them leaked through the cracks in his
shielding that he could not repair quickly enough.
Qui-Gon would help him to relearn that skill. They knelt
opposite one another in a meditative position.
At first he felt a little nudge in his mind, Qui-Gon's
presence jostling for a position within Obi-Wan's mind. He
allowed it, of course. Qui-Gon's presence was comfortable,
familiar.
Then he watched as Qui-Gon showed him the weaknesses in the
dam that represented his mental shielding. He examined it
curiously; he hadn't given it much thought lately. It had
become second nature to him, and he hadn't had to.
He gave the dam plenty of thought now, though. He took note of
the areas Qui-Gon showed him and, ironically enough, waited to
become agitated so that he could test his ability to repair
those areas while under stress.
He didn't have to wait long. Qui-Gon sent him a very simple
question, one he knew Obi-Wan would not want to answer.
**Where did you go today, Padawan?**
||It was my free time, Master.|| He couldn't help the
defensive tone in his mental voice. At the same time, he
mentally supported a wobbling blue brick in the dam.
**So it was, Obi-Wan, so it was.**
Obi-Wan mentally sighed and rechecked the weak areas of the
shields. The whole point of the exercise was to irritate him
into having to fend for his shields himself. He had to remind
himself that Qui-Gon understood the point as well and that
there was no reason to feel defensive. He was not obligated to
answer the questions, just to avoid letting them weaken the
dam.
**Would you rather not work on your shields just now, my
Padawan? Are you not well enough yet?**
||The sooner I don't have to worry about you eavesdropping,
the better.|| He was teasing, of course, but there was an
element of truth to that statement, and Obi-Wan was sure that
they both knew it. ||And what's this 'not well enough'
business? I've hardly been ill.|| Was Qui-Gon still goading
him, or did he really think him that weak?
**You haven't been unwell physically, no. But you cannot deny
that this has been a trying time for you psychologically. You
were without the use of the Force for some time.**
||Not long enough that I need to be. coddled. I'm not a child,
and I will continue the exercise on my shielding.||
**No, you are not a child. We'll continue. So, Padawan. what
were you hiding under your cloak when you returned to the
Temple?**
That was playing dirty. Irritating him, needling him, was one
thing. But Qui-Gon had known enough about his Padawan's
nervousness earlier to realize that that was not an appropriate
topic for this exercise.
**It is highly appropriate if it causes leakage of this degree
so early into the exercise.**
Damn him.
**I heard that, too. Focus, Obi-Wan. You see where the weak
places are. You have to learn to firm them while distracted by
your emotions. Concentrate. Now, where were we? Yes, I
remember. I was thinking how curious it was, to see my Padawan
race into his room earlier today with barely a hello. In a
rush, were you?**
Fuck. That did it. Why couldn't Qui-Gon have chosen something
less recent? Less raw? He wouldn't use this lesson to satisfy
his own damned curiosity, would he?
**Obi-Wan! Your shields! Concentrate!**
Thoughts tumbled one after the other over a crumbling section
of the dam, faster than he could stop them. Thoughts of need,
of guilt, of reluctant passion and of inevitable submission to
the shameful ache inside of himself.
Obi-Wan shook his head and worked his mind free of the
meditative trance. He felt Qui-Gon shielding him immediately.
"Did you see enough? Is that what you wanted?" Obi-Wan accused
in a tight, strangled voice.
"No, it is not what I wanted. Obi-Wan, I... I honestly did not
realize that you would react so emotionally to this line of
questioning. But you knew the point of the exercise, Padawan,
and it is obvious that you need to work on this." Qui-Gon's own
voice sounded strained as he stood and paced for a moment.
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on calming.
He took a deep breath, then slowly opened his eyes to see
Qui-Gon watching him. He looked so... hurt?
"Perhaps you'd do better to work on this alone for the time
being. Spend some time in meditation before bed. Concentrate on
the foundation of your shielding. Examine how it is built, and
in the places where you see that it is weak, use your mind to
strengthen it, from the ground up. Only go as far as the
foundation for tonight."
Obi-Wan nodded. Yes, understood now. Qui-Gon had helped him to
build the foundation of his shields. They became so close at
that time, their bond bringing them such intimate and welcome
understanding of one another.
He remembered his Master's amusement that Obi-Wan had chosen
to visualize a rainbow colored dam. He'd chosen a deep blue to
represent its foundation, with gradually lighter colors to
represent the protection of whimsical thoughts.
He'd not thought of them in years, the colors of the dam that
in his mind made up his shielding. Not until this exercise,
when he needed to put his conscious mind to the task. He'd need
to work hard to rebuild the foundation, and he'd be doing it
this time without Qui-Gon to share the experience with him.
"I'm sorry."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Nothing to be sorry about. You won't let me
help you rebuild, for fear that I'll see something inside you
that you don't want me to see. Your options are to work through
it alone, or to seek help from the healers."
"No healers," Obi-Wan blurted.
Qui-Gon smiled wryly. "That's what I thought, and that's why I
asked you to begin tonight alone with your foundation."
Why was this so damned hard? He was so grateful to be home, so
grateful to be with Qui-Gon again, why couldn't he just tuck
away all of his memories and make this ridiculous need go away?
"Obi-Wan, please try to calm yourself. I'm shielding for you,
but you must stop broadcasting."
Qui-Gon knelt in front of him again and grasped his head
gently in both big hands. Ripples of Force began to soothe him.
After only seconds, Obi-Wan began to feel sleepy, almost like
he was drugged. Qui-Gon was mentally sedating him.
There. He felt leaden, but he was calmer. He managed a weak
smile.
"Did I just tell you that I didn't need to be coddled?"
"This isn't coddling," Qui-Gon told him softly. "It's helping
someone who means a great deal to me. I asked the Council not
to trivialize what you'd been through. I'm asking you to do the
same. Your wounds are not physical, but that does not make them
less painful."
Qui-Gon's hands settled into a caress, and smoothed the spikes
of his hair. Just the way Obi-Wan liked.
"Yes, Master."
"There now." Qui-Gon moved away finally and sat across from
him. "Anything you want to talk about before you retire to
meditate?"
He wished he had something he could talk about. So he could
say yes. He knew Qui-Gon wished for him to say yes.
"No, thank you, Master. We'll talk tomorrow?"
Qui-Gon's lips quirked up in a half smile. "If you wish."
They stood and Obi-Wan headed for his room. He stopped after a
couple of steps and turned to Qui-Gon. His mouth opened, but no
words came out. It wasn't because of any collar this time; it
was because he felt lost. His Master was in front of him
immediately, and wrapped him in a tight embrace.
Qui-Gon was solid and strong, and Obi-Wan held on to him for
all he was worth. This was what he'd wanted to do and yet was
afraid to do when he'd woken at the Laridian estate to find
Qui-Gon there.
"I am glad to be home," he mumbled into Qui-Gon's tunic.
"As I'm glad to have you home."
"I just need time."
"You have it."
After a murmured thank you and one last squeeze, Obi-Wan was
released and he went immediately to his room.
Obi-Wan couldn't believe that he'd been fearful of examining
his shields. Deep within his mind, he found the steady work
patching up the blue foundation to be most relaxing. Mental
fingers smoothed over the cracks and holes as he replayed the
images of originally building the dam.
He remembered the sheer joy of Qui-Gon's laughter as Obi-Wan
unabashedly showed him his most private thoughts. Qui-Gon could
have ignored those thoughts and memories, but Obi-Wan, in all
his youth and innocence had felt he had nothing to hide from
his new Master.
In fact, Obi-Wan was flattered and warmed that a great Jedi
Master such as Qui-Gon would even care about the idle and
ridiculous thoughts of an eleven-year-old. Oh, but Qui-Gon had
assured him that there was nothing ridiculous at all about his
young mind.
And there, in the vast and colorful corners of Obi-Wan's mind,
Qui-Gon had smiled at him and his eyes had twinkled in the
warmest blue that he had ever seen.
Blue.
He'd chosen blue as the foundation of his shields, because
Qui-Gon had been the foundation of his young life. He was his
constant, his mentor, his friend, his future. Rebuilding the
foundation of his shields now was akin to reaffirming his faith
in his Master-- and that in turn reaffirmed his faith that he
was still Jedi. He hadn't changed as much as he'd feared,
despite the mark on his hip that reminded him daily of what
he'd become. His foundation had been shaken, but it was still
standing firm.
Inside, in many ways, he was the same boy who held the hope of
the galaxy within the warm blue of his Master's eyes. So once
he banished the part of himself that still stank of his
submission as a Pisan, he could let Qui-Gon in again and show
him that his faith in him was not misplaced. There would be no
traitorous need. He would be fit to fulfill his destiny by
Qui-Gon's side.
Once he emerged from his meditation, Obi-Wan breathed deeply
and exhaled contentment.
All he had to do was figure out how to satisfy this need he'd
developed, so that he could eventually cleanse himself of it.
He very carefully listened to his training bond with Qui-Gon
and sensed that his Master was asleep. Good. As long as he
didn't get emotional and broadcast, he could test some of his
purchases and begin to rid himself of this craving.
The thought alone of fulfillment was enough to arouse interest
in Obi-Wan's groin. He smiled ruefully to himself as he quietly
extricated his packages from his closet. His throat tightened
as he peered inside the first bag. This one contained the vials
of oil he had purchased. They were much like the oils they used
on Pilani; they were thin but very slick. A little would go a
long way. He selected the vial of unscented oil. The shopkeeper
had embarrassed him into purchasing a fruit-scented one as
well, for variety. Obi-Wan didn't especially want his rear to
smell like a fruit-stand at open market, but agreeing had
gotten him out of there faster.
Next he reached into his second bag, the one that held his
small array of phalluses and wands. He swallowed even harder
this time as he pulled out a human shaped phallus. It had the
slim girth of the Laridian twins, as well as their nearly
fore-arm length. Oh yes, this would do. His erection thickened
in anticipation.
He glanced around his room and spotted his desk chair. He ran
his hand over the surface of the seat. Just as he hoped, it was
just flat enough. It would be perfect. He retrieved the phallus
and pressed the suction cup at the base of it onto the desk
seat. He wiggled the shaft of the toy experimentally. The
suction cup would hold.
Growing more anxious, he quickly stripped out of his leggings
and knelt in front of the chair. He oiled himself thoroughly,
already enjoying the feel of his own probing fingers. Next he
oiled the phallus until it gleamed in the dim light of his
room.
Oh, this was it. Finally he'd get the deep penetration he
needed. He'd get the intensity of sensation his body craved.
He pushed the chair until the back reached his desk. He put
his legs on either side of the seat, his bottom hovering over
the phallus, and he braced one hand on the edge of the desk for
balance and leverage, the other he used to guide the tip of the
rubber penis to his prepared entrance.
Slowly, he lowered himself until he felt the crown of the
phallus nudging his opening. Oh yes. He lowered more, forcing
the head inside, then he sat, feeling the length of the slick
shaft slide so deeply into him. He slowly rotated his hips,
enjoying the feel of the phallus as it nudged and probed within
him.
Using the strength of his thighs, and the leverage of his
hands on his desk, he rose, feeling the shaft glide back out of
him. The sensations were good, friction against his opening
bringing about a tingle in his groin. Oh, but he wished he had
more! He wanted to bend over and feel the phallus plunge into
him, over and over without mercy.
He wanted someone behind him to work it into his body, someone
to coax the feeling out of him-- Oh yes, that's what he needed.
Someone to whisper to him to feel it, someone to make him let
go while the pleasure spiked through him with its needle sharp
intensity. Someone to whom he could submit the deepest part of
himself.
Qui-Gon.
He rose faster and sat harder, desperate for more feeling,
more sensation, more intensity. He brought a hand to his hard
and aching cock and stroked it firmly, ignoring the burn in his
thighs as he tried to increase the pace of rising and falling
on the rigid, faux penis.
Sweat began to trickle down his temples and his forehead. Some
dripped into his eyes. He didn't care. Harder, and faster his
pumped his hand and moved on the shaft, his eyes clenched and
stinging. Oh yes, he needed to come.
At last he felt the buildup in his balls and straining thighs.
Oh please. he tightened his grip, his head fell back, and his
mouth fell open in a silent cry of need.
He felt the sticky dollops spill onto his fist a fraction of a
second after the ripples of released rushed over him. He milked
his cock as the tingles of orgasm quickly dissipated.
Panting, he rose on wobbly legs, off of the phallus, and wiped
his eyes with his discarded tunic, then wiped his come-covered
hand with it..
It wasn't enough. He'd come, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't
the burning and sharp sensation that he needed.
Thighs still aching from the exertion, he quickly put away his
things, slipped into some briefs, and crept to the refresher to
use the facilities and do some quick washing. He was just
drying his hands when he thought he felt an inquiring tug on
his training bond with Qui-Gon.
He went deathly still and tried to project the calm of a
peaceful sleep. After a moment, the tendril of inquiry from
Qui-Gon went silent. Obi-Wan exhaled softly and tiptoed back to
bed. He didn't expect to sleep, though. His persistent craving
would have him desperate for touch within a couple hours, if
his previous nights were any way to judge.
He woke early, having gotten only snatches and bits of sleep
throughout the night. There was an unsatisfying ache at his
bottom that reminded him instantly of his failure the evening
before. He'd always been astute. He knew what the problem was.
He'd never satisfy this need within him all on his own. It was
borne of his depravity with the Laridian boys, and it could
only be burned away with yet more depravity with another. But
where could he go? He'd never been to a brothel, and obviously
it was out of the question to seek the help of another Jedi. If
whomever he approached was not thoroughly disgusted, then he
would be looked upon with pity for his weakness.
So, he'd just have to learn what there was to know about
brothels. It was the only next step he could imagine. He had to
do something to get this under control. The sooner he did, the
sooner he could let Qui-Gon in again. He missed him so much
that it made his stomach ache.
"Padawan? I have some bad news for you."
Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks a few feet from the front door
to their quarters. "Yes?"
"You're going to have to forego your outing tonight with your
friends. It's simply too dangerous."
Obi-Wan felt the blood drain from his face. What was he
supposed to do?
"I am sorry, Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon did look upon him with sincere regret. But it didn't
help. In fact, it hurt. It hurt to look at his Master's
handsome, sincere face and realize that Qui-Gon unknowingly
felt badly for a degenerate Padawan, a whore-seeking
apprentice. Qui-Gon deserved better of the man he called
Padawan, and having his plan foiled, he saw it for the dirty,
counterproductive idea that it was.
But how was he going to get better if he didn't seek out
someone to help him with this insistent, clawing, craving that
was eating him from the inside out?
"Whatever it is that's haunting you, Obi-Wan, I wish that you
could share it with me."
"So do I." Obi-Wan ducked his head and walked to his room. "I
need to think."
He slipped into his room without waiting for a response from
Qui-Gon. However he planned to rid himself of this thing
inside, he had to do it quickly. He had to stop hurting his
Master, he had to stop shutting him out. He had to be clean
enough inside to let his Master in again. The health of their
bond depended on it.
He calmed his breathing and forced his emotions to settle. No
broadcasting. He wouldn't put Qui-Gon through that.
He sank into meditation and went back to examining his
shields. The foundation. He found solace and comfort in
nurturing the deep blue layers of his mind. Calm descended upon
him as he cared for each intricate layer of his shielding. He
finally found enough calm to swim back out of his thoughts and
into the present. Hours had passed. He knew what to do.
He still had some of his purchases to try. Before he gave up,
he would give it another go on his own. Maybe now that he had
some focus, he could get to that intensity level he needed.
As he did the night before, he listened carefully through his
training bond with Qui-Gon. It seemed as if his Master was
settling in for the night, if not yet asleep. Obi-Wan gathered
his things, biding his time until he was reasonably sure that
Qui-Gon had drifted off.
He tapped into the training bond again, and felt a deep calm
from Qui-Gon. That meant he was probably asleep. Good. It was
time.
He slipped out of his clothes and settled on the rug in the
middle of his room, towel nearby for cleanup. He gulped as he
held his newly purchased wand in front of his eyes. Again, he'd
dimmed his lights, and they reflected almost menacingly off the
thin stainless steel. He glanced at his groin, noting the lack
of interest in his flaccid penis. Well, that was okay. He'd not
been hard the first time Cason used a wand on him, he recalled.
Gently cradling his quiescent shaft, he slowly rubbed the
narrow, blunted tip of the wand against his slit. There was a
teeny bit of moisture gathered there, and the sensation of the
steel against him did bring some tingles of interest to his
groin.
Very slowly, he began to push the wand into his shaft. It slid
inside him easily, pushing into his urethra in a burning path.
He stopped when guessed the tip had reached about the base of
his penis. He twirled the studded end of the wand, willing the
sensations to build.
They did, but it was not the burn of satisfaction. He only
hardened a little, not enough for his cock to fill out around
the wand. Oh please, he begged of himself. Please let it be
enough. The hand that had cradled his penis, then began to
stroke it. Come on, he coaxed silently, like it, please like
it.
Frustration compounded when his arousal did not grow. Slowly,
he pulled the wand back out, to just the tip, then slid it in
again, twisting it with the stud as he did. The burn was there,
but the excitement was not. The intensity was not.
Oh please! He pulled out and pushed the wand back in again,
willing the sensations to come.
He only peripherally noticed the tears splashing on his hand
while he stroked his barely responding penis. Why couldn't he
do this without help? What would it take? He needed more, he
needed so much, he needed to feel, he needed, oh gods he
needed.
The door to his bedroom opened and light from the hallway fell
on him like a spotlight. He looked up and into the pained
expression of his Master.
"Obi-Wan?" he whispered, with compassion. Always such
compassion.
"I can't. I don't know how. I need." He couldn't breathe, he
couldn't think.
Qui-Gon approached slowly and sat beside him. "You don't need
this."
Very carefully, Qui-Gon stilled the trembling hand that still
held the wand within his shaft. Gently, his Master clasped the
stud at the top and pulled the wand out, setting it aside.
What was he doing? Sitting naked on his bedroom floor while
Qui-Gon pulled that device out of his flaccid cock? What was
wrong with him?
"Nothing is wrong with you, Obi-Wan. You are in need. It is
not wrong to need, and it is not shameful to need. It is not
wrong to let those who love you help you."
"Then please. Master. Help me." It hurt to speak, it hurt to
say the words, but he had to.
"Always, my Padawan, always." He wrapped an arm around
Obi-Wan's bare shoulder and drew him close, into a warm, safe
embrace while he fought the shudders that wracked his body.
After long moments of slow, soothing sways in his Master's
embrace, Qui-Gon finally pulled back a little and whispered,
"Now let's get you dressed. And then, we'll talk."
His face flushed as the crisis of his emotions eased, and the
reality of his situation hit him.
"Don't be ashamed, Obi-Wan, for any of this," Qui-Gon reminded
him as he handed him his discarded leggings. Obi-Wan nodded,
still not looking Qui-Gon in the eye as he slipped his ankles
into the leggings. He stood, with Qui-Gon's help, and got the
breeches pulled over his hips and laced, glad to cover the
accusing blue bird emblazoned on his skin.
Obi-Wan fell to the sofa more than he sat. His legs refused to
support him and his mind was having trouble reconciling the
harsh reality of what was happening to him with the decidedly
surreal quality of the very room around him. His master had
just pulled him up from a naked and desperate attempt to rouse
feeling in himself with a penile wand, and yet here he sat on
the couch, Qui-Gon making him tea. Did the room have an
off-kilter tilt, or was he dreaming?
Qui-Gon put the warm cup in Obi-Wan's hands and pulled a
kitchenette chair over to site directly across from him. "Go
on, take a sip. It will warm you."
Mechanically, he did as told. Qui-Gon was right. The warmth
was comforting. But he still could not manage to look Qui-Gon
in the eyes.
"Why? What is so terrible that you are ashamed to look at me?"
"I'm not clean."
"Obi-Wan?"
"This thing inside me. This need. It's tainted me."
Qui-Gon leaned forward and placed his hands on Obi-Wan's
knees.
"There is nothing about you that is unclean, Obi-Wan. Nothing.
Talk to me, tell me why you feel this way."
It sounded so much like a plea. Qui-Gon wasn't ordering him to
talk, he was asking. It would almost be better if he was
ordered. but no, he owed Qui-Gon the respect to tell him
without making it a command.
"I grew accustomed to a certain level of... intensity... while
I was on Pilani. Now that I am home, my body still... craves...
what a Pisan craves. I became their Pisan."
"Obi-Wan, you did not become their Pisan. You became
accustomed to the physical sensations of being with the
Laridian sons. You are experiencing a physical withdrawal."
Obi-Wan tried to calm himself as he listened to Qui-Gon.
Withdrawal?
"Yes. You became dependent on the physical sensations as a way
to cope. It will pass, I promise you. Do you understand?"
Obi-Wan was stunned. A physical addiction. It made sense. That
was why he rationalized to himself that he needed to feel it
once more in order to be rid of it. the classic rationalization
of an addict. Oh, Force, and he'd nearly taken himself to a
brothel in his need to satisfy it. "Yes," he finally rasped.
The cup shook in Obi-Wan's hand until Qui-Gon retrieved it and
set it aside.
"You cannot help what your body now craves. It does not change
who you are inside. You are still Jedi. You did the right
thing, Obi-Wan. You coped the best way you could and waited for
your chance to get back to me. You are no less Obi-Wan Kenobi
than you were a quarter ago."
Obi-Wan nodded, his head again bowed.
Qui-Gon sighed, an exasperated sound. "You do not yet believe
it."
Obi-Wan didn't answer. How could he?
"Tell me what it was like."
What? Obi-Wan lifted his eyes slowly.
"The sensations, the feelings. When they made love to you.
What was it like?"
Making love? Could Qui-Gon truly call it that, and expect him
to call it that? Obi-Wan swallowed, hard. Maybe explaining it
would make Qui-Gon understand why it was so wrong.
"Every time they made me come, there was a sizzling in my
veins like wildfire. It burned through me and the harder I came
the more I was left with nothing but ash. And so the part of me
that wanted it was dust also, blown away by the time the sun
rose."
"And now. You want to burn away the part of you that still
wants it." Qui-Gon cupped his cheek gently, holding his gaze.
He blinked yes. Oh yes. If he could burn away the traitor
inside of him, everything would be better. He'd be clean
inside. He'd be the Jedi Qui-Gon needed him to be.
"Obi-Wan, why do you believe your cravings are traitorous?"
Why was Qui-Gon pushing this before they were ready? Obi-Wan
fought for breath and his blood raced through his veins as he
realized he'd have to speak what had always been the unspoken
between them.
"Because the need comes from my submission to them... and I
was not meant to give myself like that, not so completely. Not
to them." His heart pounded with renewed anxiety as he saw
realization dawn on Qui-Gon's face.
"Oh.. Padawan."
"It's destined, Master." Did Qui-Gon not have the same
prescience? Oh. Oh no. "You-- you haven't foreseen it?"
"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon sat back, his fingers and warm hand leaving
Obi-Wan's cheek, leaving him cold.
He could not have been wrong! He'd seen it, felt its
inevitability so many times. He was not wrong!
"I-- I never could tell when. But I've known since the day I
first saw you that someday... Someday we would come together,
bonded in all ways. I had to be clean enough. I had to be sure
there was nothing ugly inside me when it was finally time."
He watched as emotion after emotion chased itself across
Qui-Gon's expression. He saw sorrow and compassion and
something he swore was regret.
It wasn't time. He knew it wasn't time. Damn! Qui-Gon the
Master would understand and forgive anything. Qui-Gon,
would-be-bondmate, was not ready to know the depths of
depravity Obi-Wan had sunk to on Pilani.
"You're wrong, Obi-Wan. It was not depravity! It was a kind of
love that you cannot understand. That does not make it unclean.
And as for us coming together." Qui-Gon's discomfort made
Obi-Wan queasy.
He leaned forward, pushing down his nausea. "It is not time. I
know that. I needed to be cleansed of this first."
Qui-Gon shook his head and took a ragged breath. "You must
know that what is meant to be with us, will be, when the time
is right."
So Qui-Gon had foreseen it also. That helped, but only a
little. What if he'd ruined it? Since he'd met Qui-Gon, he'd
known that it was meant to be. It was still meant to be, he
could feel it. But now, he couldn't feel that it would be good.
He would have to live with the knowledge that what should have
been Qui-Gon's, untouched, had the mark of another upon it.
That untried intimacy was supposed to be his gift to Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon responded to his thoughts by putting his warm palm
back on Obi-Wan's cheek. "Oh, Obi-Wan. Don't you see? There
*is* something inside of you that remains wholly untarnished.
Your love for me. Nothing can take that from me. And when you
are ready, you'll open yourself to me, show me what you have
inside for me, and I will cherish it."
"How will I make myself ready?" If Qui-Gon could pretend that
they were still a certainty, then so could he.
Qui-Gon smiled. "You'll have to learn to have faith again."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth of Qui-Gon's
hand on his cheek before Qui-Gon sat back again. "Any idea
where I should start with this task?"
Qui-Gon inclined his head, his expression becoming more stern.
Obi-Wan shifted in his seat.
"At the moment, I would say with the need to examine your
logic. When you were on Alderaan, what was one thing you had
hoped you would accomplish?"
Obi-Wan felt like his face was on fire. "Lose my virginity."
He could barely whisper it.
"To a young woman, no doubt." At that Obi-Wan nodded and bowed
his head. "You consider a quick fling with a female to be more
pure than allowing yourself to submit your feelings to a pair
of young men who love you?" Qui-Gon asked.
"She wouldn't have taken something inside of me that was meant
to be yours! She wouldn't have reached into the foundation of
who I am and *changed* me by making me submit the part of me
that is yours! Master, I came to *enjoy* what was supposed to
have been taken unwilling. I gave the intimacy that was to be
yours alone!"
Obi-Wan took his head in his hands and squeezed, trying to
relieve the pressure of his headache and to force away the
pain. His whole body shook as he tried to win back any measure
of control.
Qui-Gon's arms wrapping around him made him tremble harder,
though he prayed silently that his Master would not take away
that warmth, that he'd hold just a little bit longer, a little
bit tighter.
"As long as you need, as tightly as you need," Qui-Gon crooned
as rocked Obi-Wan slowly, his arms not easing their grip. All
the while, the ache throbbed in his temples while he shuddered
in Qui-Gon's embrace.
At last Obi-Wan began to still and he sniffed back the last
threat of tears. Qui-Gon gently wiped away the single escaped
drop on his cheek then cupped Obi-Wan's face. He then dropped a
soft kiss to Obi-Wan's lips before he drew back to capture his
eyes.
"Padawan, sex without emotion, without caring, *that* will
taint you deep inside. Love is never dirty. This is a lesson
that most Padawans your age learn a much easier way on the
Alderaan excursion, I'm afraid." He sighed and then continued,
Obi-Wan rapt on every word.
"I won't deny that a part of me feels rather jealous that
Cason and Eron made you feel so deeply. But I would rather you
know what it is to care and love, than to see you give your
body to someone meaninglessly. Having feelings for Eron and
Cason does not make me feel that you care for me any less. Our
future together, when it takes that turn, will not be tainted
by your having been loved. You have plenty inside of you that
is saved just for me. And when it is time, we will share it."
He wanted to believe. He wanted to look at how he'd felt every
time Eron came deeply inside him, and look at how he felt every
time he emptied his seed into Cason's body, and not feel there
was something deeply, irreversibly tarnished inside of him.
Qui-Gon again shook his head in mild exasperation. "You'll
believe. When you're ready. Perhaps I've made a mistake in not
allowing you to get back to your training more fully. How would
you feel about some 'saber practice in the morning?"
Obi-Wan nodded gratefully, exhaustion finally wearing on him.
"I'd like that."
Still, he surprised himself by actually sleeping steadily
through the rest of night.
Wielding his lightsaber during his spar with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan
couldn't help but appreciate Avon-Durr's sense of what it meant
to be Jedi. His lightsaber was the item Durr had returned to
Qui-Gon to assure him that he had indeed managed to capture his
Padawan. Having it in his hands again, he already felt more
like his old self.
He was pleased with how well he did in the exercise and
realized that the work he'd done with the Laridian boys with
the Pilani staffs had helped him more than he had thought.
Maneuvers and forms came back to him quickly and he fell into
the rhythm of the exercise easily.
The more he fell into the pace of the spar, the more at peace
he became. Remembering his discussion with Qui-Gon did not
distract him, but rather it soaked into him, the meaning within
the words becoming real. It became another layer of truth, the
truth of who he was, the good and the bad.
Obi-Wan would never truly understand the feelings of a
Pilanian toward his Pisan or the feelings of a Pisan toward his
buyer, but he knew that Cason and Eron cared for him-- and he
would someday accept that he came to care for them, even if
he'd never understand how those feelings came to be.
For the first time, he understood what Qui-Gon meant when he'd
told him that there were not answers for all questions, and
that sometimes all one can do is accept what is.
The exercise ended with Obi-Wan opposite his Master, a
satisfying sweat beading his forehead and a feeling of calm
rippling through him to settle over him at last with a gusty
exhalation. It was a start.
"Well done, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon bowed slightly, a smile curling
his lips.
Well done, his Master told him. And he believed it. He had a
way to go, and he couldn't help the fear that he'd ruined
something sacred with Qui-Gon. Oh, he had no doubt they would
be bondmates; he was too certain of his prescience. His fear
was that the bond would not come alive between them as it was
meant to.
"You managed to stay in good health while on Pilani, I see,"
Qui-Gon told him as they exited the hall.
He took Qui-Gon's compliment with a humble bow, but the
subject of his health reminded him of his curiosity about the
staffs. "Master, have you ever seen a Pilanian dance, with
their staffs?"
"Just once, I saw a demonstration on Alderaan. I'm a little
envious, Obi-Wan, that you had the opportunity to work with
them," Qui-Gon told him as they continued through the temple.
"I wish I'd had some connection to the Force while working
with them." Obi-Wan suppressed the disquiet at the thought, and
remained centered.
"Oh, but you did, in a sense. You couldn't recognize your
connection with it, but it was there; the Force was with you
even when you didn't know it. and also when you used the staffs
of teesi bark. The micro-organisms that live within the bark
continue to live on once the staffs are made. The conditioning
oil feeds them, and they glow to life when they sense the
adrenaline rush of a Pilani dancer. The organisms are not
sentient, but are strong in the Force. When they are incited by
Pilani adrenaline, they emit a subtle Force energy pulse, and
the dancers use that energy boost to increase the speed of the
dance. It's quite remarkable, Padawan. The body chemistries of
other species will not trigger the teesi organisms, only those
of a Pilani. You did not sense the organisms, but they probably
sensed you. They just didn't care for your adrenaline," Qui-Gon
teased.
They had stopped in the corridor to their quarters, Obi-Wan
listening with fascination. "No wonder I could never perfect
the dance. I could never get the staff to whir and come to life
for me. Cason, and Eron, they never told me, though."
Qui-Gon smiled and rested a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's
shoulder as they continued on. "They probably didn't know why.
The biological answers of the staffs aren't important to
Pilanians, only their devotion to the dance and to their care
of the staffs. The arrangement works well for them."
"I suppose. But I can't help my own curiosity and my need for
knowledge," Obi-Wan said as they entered their quarters.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "That's one of your most endearing and
exasperating qualities, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan left his Master for the shower with a grin that he
didn't have to force. Qui-Gon certainly treated him with no
less affection now that he knew of what had changed inside of
him. Maybe there was hope for their destined bond after all.
Coming out of the shower for the second time that day, Obi-Wan
pulled his clean tunic over his head and glimpsed Qui-Gon at
the communications terminal.
His Master turned to him and gestured him to come. "Obi-Wan?
There is someone here you need to speak with." Qui-Gon's tone
was reassuring. That immediately set of Obi-Wan's internal
alarm. Why did Qui-Gon need to reassure him?
Once he took Qui-Gon's place in the comm terminal seat, he
knew. Ison Laridian stared back at him.
"It's good to see you, Obi-Wan." He looked as if he meant it.
"Sir. how?"
Ison smiled ruefully. "I suspected that something was amiss
when Qui-Gon left with you. I did some checking once I realized
Avon-Durr had returned the funds for your quarter trial period.
But I got lucky when I received word that the Jedi were sending
a team of delegates to oversee the formation of offworld Pisan
brokerage regulations. I went to speak to them personally. A
member of the team was sporting a very familiar braid."
Oh, the irony that his most visible identifier would only now
reveal him.
"How are. how are Cason and Eron?" Did they know? Were they
hurt? Were they well?
"They. they miss you. As far as they know, you are home on
Darona with your new benefactor," Ison answered softly.
"I never wanted them to be hurt." If nothing, Ison had to know
that.
"I know. They would never have wanted to hurt you either."
Ison assured.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a centering breath. This was
so hard.
He opened them a moment later and saw Ison waiting patiently
for his response. "They didn't hurt me. They were used as much
as I was. They cared for me. I know that. Sir, I don't want
them to know. I don't want them to have to live with the guilt,
and we both know they would feel much guilt."
Ison swallowed hard. "I agree. My sons would sooner lose a
limb than have to live with the knowledge that took another
unwilling."
"I was not unwilling." Obi-Wan surprised himself with that
sudden declaration, only half a lie. He'd never realized before
just how fluid the truth could be. "Not in that sense. I would
not have chosen to become their Pisan, but looking back, Cason
and Eron would never have forced me into anything. I felt as
though I had no choice but to play the part. They were never
given the opportunity to judge my willingness."
"Only what their empathy told them, and we know how helpful
that was," Ison said and sighed. He looked haggard.
"Are you well, Sir?"
Ison smiled, a genuine smile, Obi-Wan could tell. "Yes, I am
well, thank you. Concerned, for you as well as my sons, but
better now that I have seen that you are where you belong and
are recovering."
"I am recovering, thank you. Sir. will you be able to keep it
from them? My circumstances?" He couldn't quite let go of his
dread of Cason and Eron finding out. They didn't deserve the
pain of finding out.
"Don't worry, Obi-Wan. I believe I can prevent it for some
time. Although someday, when the hurt will be dulled, it might
be a good idea for them to know. Your situation has taught us
much, and my sons could benefit from it."
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, knowing it to be true, but
not ready yet to hear it.
"Not just yet, though, young one. You have my word that I will
not tell them until some time has passed and some of their
longing for you has eased."
Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and felt his eyes begin to well.
Cason and Eron still longed for him. Of course they did; they
loved him.
"Obi-Wan, I want to thank you," Ison said gently.
"For what?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice unsteady.
"For teaching my sons something about love that I don't think
anyone else could have taught them."
"They. they taught me much as well," Obi-Wan replied, a tear
sliding down his cheek. "They had no idea what I truly was, and
yet I learned so much about who I am."
"It was a hard lesson," Ison guessed, his sympathy almost
palpable even over the comm terminal.
"So many lessons are," Obi-Wan replied with a wry grin and
wiped away the tear. "And I did. I did care for them. Very
much." It didn't hurt as much to admit it as he thought it
would.
Ison nodded thoughtfully, whispered a strained, "I know." Then
he cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan, I wish you well."
"And I you. All of you."
Ison inclined his head and the comm ended. Too late, Obi-Wan
realized he hadn't asked if Risa knew. She would likely be as
pained by the knowledge as Cason and Eron. And yet she was so
strong, and she'd felt such an empathy for Obi-Wan's plight.
Obi-Wan slumped. Ison would not have kept this from his wife.
Obi-Wan hoped she was handling it well.
"They'll be fine, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's assurance was soothing,
as was the hand that smoothed his damp hair. Obi-Wan nodded
mutely and sighed into Qui-Gon's touch.
"Risa cut it for me," Obi-Wan suddenly whispered into the
quiet of the moment.
"What? Your hair?" Qui-Gon asked, a smile in his voice.
"Yes. She told me one day that though it could be unruly, that
my hair had personality. And she asked if I would like for her
to keep it trimmed. I agreed." Obi-Wan tipped his head to see
Qui-Gon's face.
His Master's smile was so fond, and he couldn't help but grin
back. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, there is very little about you that
isn't brimming with personality." Qui-Gon punctuated that
thought with an affectionate tug on his braid.
"I love you, Qui-Gon." He had to say it.
"And I love you," Qui-Gon's smile reached the twinkle of his
eyes.
Obi-Wan spent that night alone in his bed, after having
received a soft, sweet kiss from Qui-Gon.
His Master now knew everything, and he still loved him.
Qui-Gon truly didn't seem to think that something was stolen
that should have been his. It was entirely possible after all,
that he had not bound his Qui-Gon into a tainted lifebond.
Obi-Wan slept more soundly than he had since before his
eighteenth birthday
The healers pronounced Obi-Wan to be fit to return to full
duty three full weeks after his return to Coruscant. He'd had
his good days and nights during that time as well as his
stress-filled ones. He'd had fitful nights of rest and those in
which he tossed and turned with a residual longing for purely
sexual release.
He hadn't spoken again of the turn his relationship with
Qui-Gon would take one day. Fears such as his weren't banished
over night, and he wanted to believe to core of himself that he
hadn't damaged what their bond was destined to be.
Despite the fit-for-duty declaration, Qui-Gon requested that
their duties be confined to the temple a little longer.
Avon-Durr had not yet been found, which was one reason, and
Obi-Wan could genuinely benefit from some in-temple classes was
the other. Qui-Gon scheduled him for hand-to-hand combat and a
course in unusual planetary customs of outer rim worlds.
Obi-Wan accepted that assignment with a roll of his eyes and a
grin.
The afternoon he returned from his first class, Qui-Gon was
waiting for him, looking rather. nervous?
"Perceptive, Padawan," Qui-Gon admitted with a slight grin.
Obi-Wan had also strengthened his shields over the previous
weeks but found that he rather liked the openness of having his
thoughts readily heard by Qui-Gon. It helped him to feel close
to his Master again in a way that mere words could not.
"What's wrong, Master?"
Qui-Gon exhaled and sat at the kitchenette table. "We've had a
communication from Avon-Durr. Actually, it's more of a letter
to me. He left it behind on Caliza, his last known
whereabouts."
That communication was apparently on the data pad that Qui-Gon
placed on the table. Obi-Wan slowly took the chair opposite
Qui-Gon at the table. "Do you not want me to read it?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "I do want you to read it. But do you not have
questions for me, Obi-Wan?"
"Of course I have questions. But I figured that you would tell
me when you were ready. Are you ready?" Obi-Wan cocked his head
and contemplated the struggle Qui-Gon was obviously having.
Then he realized that Qui-Gon had merely been waiting for *him*
to be ready. Obi-Wan could have asked at any time, but he had
not. "I am ready now, Master."
Qui-Gon inclined his head in acknowledgment and began.
"About a year before I took you as Padawan, I was involved in
a mediation between Caliza and Sharia that failed. They never
came to their trade agreement, and I moved on to another
assignment after both delegates told me I was no longer needed.
I took them at their word. I discovered months later that
Sharia was blackmailing Caliza over continued slavery
practices. In retaliation for the blackmail, Caliza kidnapped
the Sharian king's sister. That woman was also Avon-Durr's
wife. Avon-Durr was captain of the Sharian Royal Guard.
"Avon-Durr petitioned me personally for help because the
Sharian King was more concerned about the financial
repercussions of the trade agreement than his own sister. It
took him some time to reach me, and he had to do so without
anyone from Caliza or Sharia knowing. By the time we got his
wife back she was a broken and beaten woman. Caliza had sold
her into slavery at thir mining colony.
"Avon-Durr was bitter toward both Sharia and Caliza, but he
held me personally responsible. The Jedi were supposed to be
beyond the deceptions of devious delegates. According to Durr,
if I'd done my job as a Jedi, his wife would never have been
taken and both Caliza and Sharia would have been exposed before
anyone else was hurt. or sold."
"Qui-Gon, it wasn't your fault." Obi-Wan whispered.
"No, it wasn't. But I have to be honest, Padawan. It is
possible indeed that I missed something. I was not at my best
at that time. My life didn't turn around until you came into
it," Qui-Gon said, his voice sounding strained. He reached
across the table and squeezed Obi-Wan's hand.
Obi-Wan furrowed his brow in thought. Qui-Gon had told him, of
course, many times when he was younger just how much it meant
to him to have him as his Padawan. Qui-Gon loved him, no doubt.
He'd cared for him since he was eleven. But Qui-Gon was not
asking for forgiveness; he was asking for acceptance.
"So you have accepted that things might have gone differently
on that mission, but you do not hold the wrongs of Caliza and
Sharia against yourself. Just as neither of us can hold
Avon-Durr's actions against you now."
Qui-Gon's gaze grew intense. "Obi-Wan, your ordeal filled me
with pain I cannot describe. All that time when I didn't know
where you were, where he would have sent you to be. sold. Every
day that you were gone, there was one more stab in my heart.
But what I cannot claim to feel is guilt."
Obi-Wan nodded, understanding. "I know that now. And I accept
it." He'd gone along with Avon-Durr thinking he'd spare Qui-Gon
guilt. He'd spared him pain instead, and had survived. Right
thing to do, wrong reason. He could live with it.
Qui-Gon squeezed Obi-Wan's hand one more time and then pushed
the data pad to his side of the table.
"I think you're ready to read this, then."
To: Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn
From: Avon-Durr of Sharia
If this falls into your hands, Master Jedi, then you know that
the chances of my being alive are quite slim. The arrangement
is such that if I do not return from this latest mission to
eradicate slavery in the galaxy, then my death is to be assumed
and the transmission will be forwarded.
By this time, your Padawan will have been returned to you,
physically unharmed. I work too hard to eliminate slavery to
sentence an innocent of such a fate. But I had no choice but to
do what I did in order for the lesson to be learned.
It was a blessed twist of fate, that day I saw you with your
Padawan in the Mallastarian space port. I was there following a
lead on a slaver. I turned from my transport, and there you
were, your hand on the young man's shoulder, the boy looking up
at you with such trust in his eyes. It was the same expression
I'd seen on my Gelena's face so many times.
I will admit that it tore at my soul to see that boy smile at
you, knowing my Gelena will never smile again. Even had she
lived through her last suicide attempt, I know now that her
smile could never have been found again.
How many other innocent smiles have been ruthlessly stolen?
How many more Gelenas are suffering this very moment, Qui-Gon
Jinn? It is something you and every Jedi must think upon, long
and hard. I knew when I saw the two of you together, when I saw
you looking upon that boy as I once looked upon Gelena, that
there was only one way for you to learn, and for the boy to
learn. You as the Jedi of the past and he as the Jedi of the
future... It was imperative that I teach you what I know.
I will admit that I took a perverse pleasure in leading your
boy to believe that his situation would be as painful and
agonizing as my Gelena's. You will see for yourself that I
spared him such horror. I could have sent him to the mines of
Caliza, where my wife and soul mate suffered so irrevocably.
But I did not. I refuse to dishonor Gelena's memory by becoming
a monster such as those who destroyed her.
There is much work to be done to prevent such innocents from
being condemned to the injustice of slavery. The consequences
of your actions and lack of actions must be understood. You are
Jedi. Your life is supposed to be about justice and peace. Do
not fail another Gelena, Qui-Gon Jinn.
Caliza must be stopped. Repudiating her membership to the
Republic is not enough. If the Jedi and the Senate will not
step in, then I will do what I must. I do not expect you to
bear the burden of my own death, but to my last breath I will
expect you to bear a burden for Gelena's. and for all others
whose lives were sacrificed to the malignant greed of Caliza
and the numerous worlds like her in this dark galaxy.
May you hear the wails of suffering in your nightmares each
time you close your eyes to sleep, as I have these past years.
Avon-Durr
Obi-Wan put the pad down and looked at Qui-Gon. "Do you
believe he is dead?"
"It is a distinct possibility."
They were both silent. He had much to absorb. He was not of a
mind to excuse Avon-Durr's actions, by far. But he was coming
to understand that there were many shades to madness, grief and
wrong doing. Avon-Durr was a man with convictions who was on a
noble quest. who had done a deplorable thing in the name of
that quest.
"I hope not," Obi-Wan whispered.
Qui-Gon brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair as he
stood. "You have such goodness in you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan smiled wanly. "He's right, Master, I did have it easy.
His wife was beaten and abused and her will to live was
crushed. I was sent to a world where two gentle people came to
love me, and an entire family came to care for me."
Qui-Gon turned from the tea kettle and lifted Obi-Wan's chin
so that their eyes met. "I am more thankful than you can
imagine that your ordeal was not like Gelena's. And I am proud
that you came through your own ordeal well, and having learned
so much."
He let go of Obi-Wan's chin with one more quick caress, then
returned to the kettle and the tea preparations.
"Master, do you think he knew just how easy I would have it?
Somehow, I can't imagine that he'd believe he could enlighten
me to his cause by sending me to be so completely. pampered."
Obi-Wan winced at the word 'pampered'.
Qui-Gon sighed as he poured. "I don't think his perceptions
could allow him to understand a symbolic slavery as opposed to
a very real one. I believe he had enough compassion for you to
send you to a place where he was sure you could be easily
retrieved, and where owners are notorious for treating their
'slaves' well. He could not have anticipated that the lessons
we learned had little to do with his original intent."
"And of his original intent, Master?"
Qui-Gon sat looked at him soberly. "The Senate will not
intervene on a non-Republic world. Not on internal affairs.
However, there is hope that they will approve a temporary
seizure to free slaves who might be from Republic worlds and
who have been smuggled in."
"Let me guess, that hope has been lingering for almost a
decade now?" Obi-Wan asked, uncharacteristically cynical.
"About that, yes." Qui-Gon took a deep sip from his cup, then
looked at Obi-Wan again. "Avon-Durr was right about something,
Padawan. You are the future of the Jedi. What we do not achieve
in this generation, will be up to you to achieve in yours. And
if it is not achieved in yours, then it is up to you to pass
the hope of achievement to the next generation."
That was the sacrifice that Qui-Gon needed of him; not one of
the body, but of the promise to hope, no matter what the future
brought. Did he have the strength to carry that kind of hope?
Looking into the timeless blue of his Master's eyes, Obi-Wan
saw Qui-Gon's undeterred faith in him. And he decided yes.
A pleasant warmth settled low in Obi-Wan's belly, and it had
nothing to do with the satisfying meal Qui-Gon had made for
them. His Master had spent their entire dinner flirting with
him, and now as Obi-Wan dried their dishes, he began to have
new appreciation for the term anticipation. Could the time of
their bonding truly be upon them?
Over the past couple of weeks, Obi-Wan had come more and more
to terms with what he'd been through on Pilani. His body ceased
its purely physical craving for release and Obi-Wan had let go
his guilt at having come to care for his unwitting captors. He
didn't have an answer for his every action, nor an exact reason
for his every reaction. He no longer needed them.
He also felt less and less inclined to be ashamed of the
darker corners of his mind. In fact, as he became more willing
to look into those recesses, he realized they weren't so dark
after all. He'd needed to see that for himself in order to
truly believe that he hadn't lost anything irretrievable.
With that new understanding of himself, he began to notice
that Qui-Gon's looks at him held gradually more heat. His
touches lasted longer and longer... and the innuendo became
slightly more suggestive. Qui-Gon apparently was deeming him
closer to being ready for them to join. Obi-Wan was inclined to
agree. At times the room fairly buzzed with electricity between
them.
Obi-Wan brought their after dinner tea into the common room
and nearly dropped the small tray when he saw the lusty gaze
Qui-Gon had leveled on him.
"Ah, thank you, Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled and took a sip from
his cup.
"My pleasure, Master," Obi-Wan grinned back, getting into the
spirit of the game.
"Not yet, but it will be."
Obi-Wan nearly spit out his own sip, and Qui-Gon chuckled.
"I've had more practice at this, my Padawan, granted, but I
didn't think you could be so easily shocked."
"I'm not shocked, I just expected a Jedi Master to be more.
subtle," Obi-Wan defended.
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow at that. "Subtle, Obi-Wan? These
last weeks, you have been a walking temptation. I've been
concentrating much more on self control than I have been on
subtlety."
Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Qui-Gon chuckled. "It is. But I must know, do you feel ready?"
Obi-Wan replied, all seriousness. "I do. I know what I want.
And I'm reasonably sure that I know what you want."
Qui-Gon sighed and inclined his head, looking at Obi-Wan as if
appraising him. Obi-Wan shifted in his seat under the scrutiny.
At last a warm grin curled Qui-Gon's lips, and he put aside his
cup, stood and reached a hand out to him.
"Very well, my enticing Padawan, come along."
"Master?"
Just like that? No more flirting? No more. foreplay? Of
course, Obi-Wan took the proffered hand and stood.
Qui-Gon bent to whisper in his ear. "Oh trust me, young one,
there will be plenty of foreplay. And then I'm going to ravish
you to incoherence."
Obi-Wan shivered. Oh, this would be good.
Qui-Gon led him to his bedroom and Obi-Wan felt a thrill at
the prospect of making love in the middle of his Master's big
bed.
"If we do this right, Obi-Wan, we'll use more than just the
middle," Qui-Gon said with a nip to Obi-Wan's earlobe.
Qui-Gon's words-- and his mouth-- stirred the warmth in his
belly and turned it into a whir of aroused tingles.
Obi-Wan placed his hands on Qui-Gon's bearded face and looked
into his eyes. He saw humor, passion and unconditional
adoration. "I love you, Qui-Gon."
"And I love you," he replied with a smile.
His mouth then descended onto Obi-Wan's, warm and supple, his
kiss filled with erotic promises. Qui-Gon's tongue swept past
Obi-Wan's lips, coaxing his own tongue out to tickle and play.
His Master tasted of spice and of power barely contained. Oh,
he wanted to unleash that power and feel its impact upon his
body.
"Mmm," Qui-Gon moaned as he pulled back. "Be careful what you
wish for, Obi-Wan. I've waited a long time for this."
Obi-Wan backed away until his rump hit the mattress, his eyes
locked to Qui-Gon, willing him to follow. He pulled off his
boots and relaxed back to lean on his elbows. "The waiting is
over, Master. I want you to do with me as you will."
"And what about your will, Obi-Wan?"
"That is my will, Qui-Gon." His reply was rather saucy.
Qui-Gon raked a slow, possessive gaze over Obi-Wan's body then
nodded once and slowly advanced. The fire in Qui-Gon's eyes as
he prowled closer would have been menacing if not for the
promise of sensual rewards that emanated from him.
As Qui-Gon reached the bed, Obi-Wan spread his knees,
welcoming Qui-Gon in between them. "What do you want, Master?
Tell me what you want."
"I want to give you the command I've waited for too long to
give you."
"And that would be?" Obi-Wan asked with an irrepressible grin.
"Strip, my Padawan." The power resonating in Qui-Gon's voice
reached inside Obi-Wan and sent him into meltdown. His tunic
flew over his head and then he was working at the drawstring of
his leggings. "So eager," Qui-Gon chuckled, but the smoldering
in his eyes remained.
"I've waited a long time, too," Obi-Wan grinned back but
flushed nonetheless as he tugged the leggings past his bottom.
The awkward shyness he felt about their first time was entirely
at odds with the urgency to feel and taste and be devoured as
soon as possible. The result of the conflicting emotions was an
utterly delicious combination of giddiness and need.
Completely naked, Obi-Wan knelt on the bed and watched the
expressions shift on Qui-Gon's face. The lust was still there,
but with it was something warm. something tender. Qui-Gon
skimmed his hands over Obi-Wan's bare thighs, a light caress.
"Master?" Was Qui-Gon having doubts?
"It's fine, Obi-Wan. I just want to look at you for a moment."
Obi-Wan felt a rush of arousal firm his penis and he blushed
again.
Qui-Gon placed his palms on Obi-Wan's shoulder blades and
moved them slowly down his back, settling lightly on his
buttocks. "You're sure that you're ready?" Qui-Gon asked in a
tight voice.
"Oh yes," Obi-Wan whispered his answer. Qui-Gon's hands on his
bare bottom robbed him of breath, but he was positive in the
rightness of what was to come.
Qui-Gon exhaled a long breath and then stepped back to
undress.
Obi-Wan's eyes remained glued to the tall figure of his Master
as little by little his clothing dropped away. After just a
moment, he was feasting his eyes on solid muscle, long limbs
and golden skin. He wanted to feel and taste it all.
"And you will, Obi-Wan, you will."
Obi-Wan scooted further onto the bed as Qui-Gon crawled on,
his expression now predatory. He lay back, waiting for Qui-Gon
to pounce, to capture him.
**Mmm. Pounce indeed. You are a delicious-looking prey, my
Padawan.** Qui-Gon ran his hands up Obi-Wan's legs, his thumbs
dragging along his inner thighs, and almost instinctively,
Obi-Wan spread wider.
He closed his eyes as Qui-Gon caressed his hips, teasing his
groin with the touch that skimmed close to, but not quite where
he longed for it most.
Qui-Gon's hair then spilled onto Obi-Wan's belly, to tease the
leaking tip of his cock. Obi-Wan gasped, then moaned softly as
he felt warm lips ghosting over his pelvic bone. Fingertips
also skimmed over that spot.
He didn't have to look to see what had so captivated Qui-Gon;
but he looked anyway. Qui-Gon's mouth and fingers traced
lovingly over his Pisan tattoo.
"You. you know what it means?" Obi-Wan asked in a shaky
whisper.
"I do," Qui-Gon smiled back, all warmth. "Do you want it
removed?"
"No. Now that I know what it means to us, no."
"Good. Because mine will be etched onto my body tomorrow." The
thought of Qui-Gon sporting a similar mark made him shudder.
"Mine will be gold and red," Qui-Gon murmured against his skin.
"Sunshine and fire, to remind me of you."
Qui-Gon's tongue continued to map the deep blue tropical bird
for a long moment, remaking it into his own mark, before he
left it with a soft kiss. Then his mouth traveled the soft
flesh of Obi-Wan's balls, laving and tracing them with the same
attention he gave the Pisan tattoo. The moist warmth sent
sparks of arousal throughout Obi-Wan's groin, and he groaned
softly.
The sensations sharpened when Qui-Gon flicked his tongue over
the sensitive crown of Obi-Wan's cock. He didn't take him into
his mouth, though; instead, he licked his way back down to his
balls, nudging them away with his nose to tongue Obi-Wan's
perineum.
Oh, it was so good. So intimate. Qui-Gon would leave no part
of him un-sampled, Obi-Wan realized.
Helpfully, he pulled his trembling legs to his chest so his
Master would have better access. He was instantly rewarded with
a moist laving of his opening. After several thorough laps,
Qui-Gon's tongue pierced him and slithered inside. Reflexively,
he clenched the moist tongue that wriggled inside him, claiming
it as much as the tongue claimed him.
Qui-Gon's groans echoed Obi-Wan's softer ones as Qui-Gon took
what was his.
His cock, his balls, his ass, everything Qui-Gon licked and
loved was marked Property of Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan gave
over eagerly, of his own free will.
The tongue pulled out of his pulsating opening at last and
Qui-Gon kissed his way to Obi-Wan's belly, sparing a quick
detour to kiss again the glistening tip of his erection. The
path of kisses continued to Obi-Wan's heart, then to a tender
nipple peaked with anticipation. Qui-Gon sucked and nipped the
pebbled flesh, the sensations reverberating along a taut thread
of arousal to Obi-Wan's groin. Each suck on the nipple plucked
the thread and made him throb impossibly harder.
A long moment later, Qui-Gon's lips trailed along his throat
and stopped a breath away from his own waiting lips. Qui-Gon
dipped his head, but instead of kissing him, he traced
Obi-Wan's lips with the tip of his tongue. Obi-Wan shuddered as
sensation prickled through him.
Finally, Qui-Gon's mouth descended on his own, and that
teasing tongue slid between his lips, stealing his breath and
making him tense with hunger. Gradually, Qui-Gon's body
blanketed his own, his Master's weight speaking to him of
power, lust and possessiveness.
Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon's back, and his legs
around his waist, clinging, pressing himself as close as he
could, wishing they could melt together somehow, fuse into one
being. The feel of Qui-Gon's hard, heavy cock nestling against
his own was devastating. The urge to join magnified and clawed
at him from the inside out, and he began to clutch the bigger
man with need.
Qui-Gon pulled back from their kiss and brushed his lips
Obi-Wan's forehead. "Easy, now."
"I want this so much," Obi-Wan gasped and tried to calm his
pounding heart. When the rush inside him didn't ease, he surged
and toppled Qui-Gon to his back so that he straddled his upper
thighs. He could feel through their bond that Qui-Gon was
pleased-- his Master would rather have an active lover than one
who merely laid himself out as a bodily sacrifice.
He felt a chuckle in his mind as he undulated against
Qui-Gon's body. **Do not misunderstand, Obi-Wan. Your body laid
out before me is enticing indeed.**
Qui-Gon's mental thought was choked off as Obi-Wan sat up and
grasped the thick cock with two hands.
**But this. oh sweet Force. this is much better.**
Obi-Wan watched his Master's eyes glaze over as he stroked him
with firm purpose. He stopped just long enough to reach for the
oil on the bedside table-- stealing a kiss from Qui-Gon's
parted lips along the way-- and the stroking resumed.
Obi-Wan's gaze traveled Qui-Gon's torso as he continued to
slick the thick cock. His Master's body was solid and so
strong; his size gave him impressive bulk and yet he was lean,
his chest broad with a sprinkling of dark hair. His waist was
trim and his belly subtly rippled with muscle. Obi-Wan used his
eyes to caress the enticing expanse of golden skin with the
same ardor with which he petted and oiled the hot erection in
his hands.
"Obi-Wan," a soft growl warned him. **I only have so much
control!**
Obi-Wan grinned, released Qui-Gon's cock and lifted his weight
a little more from Qui-Gon's thighs. His eyes trained on his
Master's, he reached back, between his own buttocks to slip an
oiled finger inside of himself.
Qui-Gon's fingers traced over Obi-Wan's chest and he licked
his lips as he watched the self-preparation. Qui-Gon watching
him while he fingered himself. what could be more intimate than
that? It felt so right.
Need again asserted itself, rising strong and wild within, and
Obi-Wan could wait no longer. He grasped Qui-Gon's slick cock
and positioned himself over it.
Qui-Gon held onto Obi-Wan's waist while he slowly sat, feeling
the swollen cockhead breech his opening. Oh, Force! Qui-Gon's
cock felt so big. he felt like he was being torn apart, but he
couldn't stop, he had to have him inside. Qui-Gon's mouth
slacked open and his fingers trembled over Obi-Wan's waist.
Seemed as if they were both shaken by the intensity.
The swollen tip finally popped through and Obi-Wan threw his
head back as he slowly lowered himself, the thick shaft pushing
into him, filling him so completely. He stopped when he felt
his buttocks brush against Qui-Gon's balls and thighs. He gave
an experimental roll of his hips and sucked in a breath at the
sensations.
Qui-Gon's hands roamed his waist and chest, and when Obi-Wan
met his eyes, he saw love and lust in astounding measures
glittering just for him.
"You're inside me." He could barely speak through the tension
that gripped his throat.
"So deep," Qui-Gon answered softly and raised his hips just
enough to send another round of sparks firing through Obi-Wan's
body.
It was enough to urge Obi-Wan into movement and he slowly
lifted himself, Qui-Gon's cock dragging its way out of his
body. The friction was glorious, a burning sensation to be
savored; he prolonged his ascent from the hard cock to relish
that burn. He stopped when only the head was snug within him.
He joined hands with Qui-Gon, using his grip for leverage, and
began a slow rhythm of rising and falling.
Tingles of sensation built and gathered within, urgency
compounding with his pleasure. More, faster, deeper, harder,
make him yours. his body shouted its commands and Obi-Wan
obeyed, surrendering himself to the frenzy. Qui-Gon's gasps and
groans urged him on and finally he found himself teetering on a
high precipice that was rumbling and about to collapse beneath
him.
Obi-Wan lifted his body once more, gathering all that he had
inside to offer to his Master before he fell. Then he sank down
again, hard. Lights exploded behind his eyes, deep blue the
predominant color.
All that he was, all that he would be, flaws and strengths;
the very basis of what he was, it would always be blue, it
would always be Qui-Gon's, whenever his Master should ask. He
came, so hard, screaming Qui-Gon's name through their bond if
not from his voice.
Qui-Gon, too, was coming, surging up to spill his seed as
deeply into Obi-Wan's body as he could; Obi-Wan accepted the
offering of Qui-Gon's body with his head thrown back and his
senses singing their joy.
At last Obi-Wan collapsed to Qui-Gon's chest in a sweaty,
exhausted heap.
"I love you," he murmured into Qui-Gon's neck.
"And I love you," Qui-Gon answered as he pulled the blankets
over them.
He belonged. At last, he was where he belonged. He could take
as much as he gave. He would give Qui-Gon his body, his mind
and his faith. Qui-Gon would continue to be his foundation and
he would trust Obi-Wan with all his hope for the future.
If this was what it meant to be Qui-Gon's Pisan, he'd gladly
wear the mark for eternity.
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