Summary: This story is a sequel to Terms of Ownership, although
it should make sense on it's own. Qui-Gon again has to deal
with his possessive feelings towards his Padawan.
Disclaimer: A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far Far Away, George
Lucas created Star Wars. And he looked at it and saw that it
was good. And all was right in the world. But then, we saw that
Obi-Wan doth look upon Qui-Gon with lust, and that Mr. Lucas
was not likely to include that in the next movie, so we said
screw it and wrote it ourselves, even though we do not make any
money off of this. And all was right with the world.
The earlier morning coolness of the gardens had faded away
under the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, making the small
gathering quite relaxing and pleasant. The people of T'hel had
agreed to conditions of the trading tariff with their
neighboring planet easily, hardly needing their Jedi
negotiators and a quiet afternoon party was all the celebration
that they wanted.
Standing silent and alone in one corner of the garden was
Qui-Gon Jinn, watching the tittering group of young women that
made up the queen's court surround his padawan. They were
sitting in the shade of one of the larger trees in the garden,
the young women obviously flirting with their captured guest.
And Obi-Wan was playing the part of 'the mysterious,
adventurous Jedi' to the hilt, telling them outrageous stories,
some exaggerated, some not, of past missions while they gasped
and shrieked, eyes wide as they listened.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed as he watched one of the bolder ones
rest a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, neatly veiling her
flirtation in show of concern over the last anecdote. Obi-Wan
graced her with a charming smile, one that he had no right to
bestow and one that drew yet another round of giggles from his
audience. The tiny burn that had started within Qui-Gon when
this had begun was smoldering, but he did nothing, simply
watched and waited.
Sipping the drink that he had forgotten he was holding, Qui-Gon
cast a quick glance around the garden at the other partygoers,
all who seemed to be having a pleasant enough time. The murmur
of conversation mixed in with the low strains of music made for
a lovely atmosphere to relax in after long days of negotiation.
High pitched laughter pierced that thin wall of contentment and
Qui-Gon winced, turning away from the display. He masked his
growing irritation as well as he could, but it apparently
wasn't enough for certainly no one had approached him for
conversation. Either that or everyone was still in such awe of
the venerable Jedi Master that they were too afraid to speak to
him and for once Qui-Gon was grateful for the aloof Jedi image.
He hardly wanted to be here, much less make idle chitchat.
Yet another round of giggles drew his eyes back to the small
group and as he watched Obi-Wan reached up and tucked his
padawan braid back behind his ear, giving Qui-Gon a brief
glimpse of the tattoo that circled the young man's wrist. Just
a flash of silver in the afternoon sunlight and it was gone.
None of the young women seemed to notice, not that it would
have mattered. He doubted that any of them would have
recognized it, although another Jedi would have. And would have
been utterly appalled by Obi-Wan's behavior.
Qui-Gon lightly fingered his own wrist through the concealing
fabric of his sleeve, rubbing his own tattoo, identical to
Obi-Wan's. Small, unobtrusive, their personal mark, one that
Obi-Wan had designed himself. The mark of their bonding.
Slipping a finger beneath his sleeve, Qui-Gon traced the
design, not even needing to see it. One thin line of silver
twisted and entwined with itself into a delicate, unbroken
pattern. Standing there at the side of the gardens Qui-Gon felt
a blush of warmth go through him that had nothing to do with
the heat of the late afternoon sun as he recalled their bonding
day.
Master Yoda himself had placed the mark for them. A heady rush
of the Force, a bright flare of pain and then their wrists had
been graced with permanent Force-lines that told of their bond.
Removal would leave a wide band of scar tissue on the wearer's
wrist that not even bacta treatment could diminish and such a
scar was a blatant sign to all Jedi of failure.
Opening eyes that he was barely aware of closing, Qui-Gon again
looked at his Padawan, his bondmate, and found the young man
watching him. Their gazes met, Obi-Wan never looking away even
as he smiled and spoke to yet another of the young women in his
impromptu entourage.
The backdrop of the garden fell away from Qui-Gon as he walked
across the room, drawn by the pale eyes still locked on his
own. He stopped directly in front of Obi-Wan and the court
ladies, towering over them as they were sitting on the ground.
Ignoring the whispers of the startled young women, he focused
only on Obi-Wan, who was looking up at him with the faintest
touch of curiosity.
"Obi-Wan," he said, a hint of sharpness to his voice, which
should have brought his padawan immediately to attention, alert
and waiting his master's orders.
Instead, Obi-Wan leaned backwards onto his hands, gazing up at
his master as he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Yes,
Master?" he replied, languidly, stretching himself out with a
slight sigh.
"Attend me." And there was a definite edge to his words now as
Qui-Gon turned and strode away, not bothering to see if Obi-Wan
followed him. He left the gardens, ignoring the surprised
stares and walked back towards the quarters he and Obi-Wan were
sharing without once looking back at the silence that seemed to
follow him.
His own boots echoed loudly in the quiet hallways as he strode
quickly through them, pausing only at the door to his room and
then he waited, one hand resting lightly on the door handle.
There. A soft inhalation behind him and Qui-Gon felt weak with
relief, releasing a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding
before finally opening the door.
Obi-Wan followed him and shut the door without a word, moving
to stand before his bondmate.
"Your behavior today has left something to be desired,
Padawan," Qui- Gon said calmly. He crossed his arms and looked
down at the younger man coolly.
Obi-Wan's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Has it?" he asked
softly, the innocence in his voice at odds with the knowing
glint in his eyes. His eyes never leaving Qui-Gon's, Obi-Wan
slowly stripped out of his clothes, folding each item neatly as
he removed it until he was naked, standing without shame under
the suddenly hot gaze of his bondmate.
Stepping back and away, Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the bed,
eyes tracing the lines of his lover's body. Obi-Wan was
perfectly still, a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth,
letting Qui-Gon see that he was already aroused, his erection
curving up his belly.
"Come here, Padawan," Qui-Gon said hoarsely, and Force but
Obi-Wan was beautiful, made all the worse by the fact that
Obi-Wan knew it.
The young man obeyed him immediately, wrapping himself in calm
as he walked over to where his master was sitting on the edge
of the bed. He stood over his master only briefly, Qui-Gon
gestured curtly to the floor and Obi-Wan knelt at the older
man's feet.
A gentle hand moved to rest on Obi-Wan's head, stroking his
short hair and Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, sighing
contentedly.
"And how shall I punish you, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, the
warmth of his voice belied the seriousness of his words and
Obi-Wan shivered as Qui- Gon's hand drifted lower to play with
the braid tucked behind Obi-Wan's ear.
"I...I wouldn't presume to choose my own punishment, Master,"
he managed to say, peeking up at his master's face from beneath
lowered lashes. "It is your right to choose such things."
"Indeed." The hand slid down to cup Obi-Wan's chin and forced
his face upward. "Perhaps I should let the punishment fit the
crime?" His thumb moved to slide across Obi-Wan's lips and
Obi-Wan lightly touched it with his tongue, tasting salt.
"If that is your will, Master," Obi-Wan replied, breathing
heavily now, his eyes locked on Qui-Gon's face. The Jedi
master's face was calm, serene as always but his eyes betrayed
him, deeply, impossibly blue with desire.
Pulled back slightly, Qui-Gon moved to lean backwards on his
hands, exposing the long line of his still clothed body to
Obi-Wan. The younger man's eyes were drawn immediately to his
lap, Qui-Gon's erection clearly visible through the thin fabric
of his pants.
"Very well then, Padawan. Pleasure me." Hoarsely spoken and
Obi-Wan smiled at the sound. Shifting forward, he knelt between
Qui-Gon's legs, unfastening his pants deftly. A soft groan
escaped the older man as Obi-Wan carefully lifted Qui-Gon's
cock from the constricting material of his trousers, stroking
the shaft with delicate fingers as he eased the older man's
pants out of the way.
Flicking a glance up at his master, Obi-Wan found him watching
expectantly, lips parted as his breathing quickened. Still
watching Qui-Gon's face, Obi-Wan leaned down to run his tongue
down the heavy erection before him. A sharp breath was
Qui-Gon's only response. He licked his way back up, teasing the
sensitive underside and watched in delight as Qui-Gon's eyes
drifted closed.
He moved one hand from Qui-Gon's leg to circle his shaft
instead, gently pushing back his foreskin before taking the
exposed head into his mouth, sucking gently.
Another glance upward found Qui-Gon staring at him again,
raptly and Obi-Wan let their eyes meet as he took Qui-Gon
deeper into his mouth, scraping his teeth along the sides. He
was rewarded with a startled gasp and two large hands catching
the sides of his head, stilling him.
"Gently, Padawan." Almost a growl and Obi-Wan complied, a last
mischievous glance before he gentled his touch, replacing teeth
with gentle suction as he took the hard shaft as deeply as he
could, tamping down his gag reflex to let the head lightly bump
the back of his throat.
Qui-Gon's hands were still resting on his head but they made no
attempt to guide him as Obi-Wan pulled back slowly and then
took him in again, setting up a slow rhythm. He slid his hand
lower to cup the heavy sac underneath, squeezing gently in time
to his movements.
A sharp gasp from above and the hands on his head tightened
almost painfully, holding him still as Qui-Gon thrust upwards
suddenly, once, twice and then shuddered as he came. Obi-Wan
rode out Qui-Gon's sudden wildness without protest, drinking
down the warm spurt of bitter fluid that spilled onto his
stroking tongue.
The hands gripping his head loosened, and then fell away as
Qui-Gon slid backwards to sprawl across the bed, panting
harshly. Obi-Wan gently stroked the softening cock with his
tongue, licking away the residue of Qui-Gon's pleasure before
sitting back on his heels.
"Is my punishment finished, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to
keep smugness from his voice.
One eye opened languidly to look at the young man kneeling at
his feet. "I think having to spend the afternoon with several
tittering young girls simply to make me jealous was punishment
enough," Qui-Gon replied dryly. "That was my forgiveness."
Obi-Wan laughed, moving to straddle Qui-Gon, rubbing his own
neglected erection against the coarse fabric of Qui-Gon's
pants. "Forgive me more," he begged softly, capturing his
master's mouth with his own.
He could taste himself on Obi-Wan's lips, where he belonged,
and Qui- Gon rolled over with his padawan in his arms, pinning
the younger man beneath him.
"Mine," Qui-Gon whispered, reveling in his padawan's breathless
agreement as he set out to prove again that it was true. And
knowing that while he might possess Obi-Wan's body, it was
Obi-Wan who owned his master's heart.
Archive 