Spoilers: Zip, zilch, nada, cero. Why? Set before TPM.
Rating: Believe it's what's known as NC-17. Gimme a break, I
ain't the Brightest Light on Broadway; I'll eventually get the
ratings figured out!
Archive: Take it if you want it. I won't molt m'self bald if
you feel like plastering it somewhere. Only request is that you
leave my name attached.
Summary: Obi-Wan gets his first look at Qui-Gon as seen through
the world of beer goggles. Or probably just beer. Qui-Gon gets
his first look at an amorous apprentice. No, it's not a bad
thing.
Warnings: First time, introspective thoughts, smart-assishness
and sarcasm, haven't a clue what else. Those of you who write
this on a regular basis can probably figure it out better'n me.
grins
Disclaimer: The God-King of Star Wars, Yea Mighty Man Lucas,
owns Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. But that's only 'cause he was lucky
enough to be born before I was. smart-ass grin
Author's note: This idea has come to me due to a recent
conversation with a cousin of mine who, since I'm turning 21
soon, has taken it upon himself to teach me how to drink.
Having the tolerance of wet Kleenex where anything chemical is
concerned, I suppose medals should be passed all around: Me for
keeping this substandard gray clay intact during a difficult
mission fraught with peril, and him for surviving the righteous
tail whipping I gave him when I could finally walk like a
normal hominid again. And if ya think I'm getting into what
defines "normal", then yer nutsen. But if you want to know just
how difficult it was, this says it all: 100-proof Peppermint
Schnapps.
"Hey, Kobi!"
Obi-Wan turned at the childhood nickname that was yelled by a
friend of his that he'd known since the creche. He grinned upon
seeing Hosko coming towards him. "Hey, 'Sko, how are you?" he
said, greeting his friend with a wide grin and a bone-crushing
hug that was gladly returned.
Hosko grinned at his best friend and said, "Great! Especially
since you're here, finally. Thought you'd never get back to the
Academy in time!"
The younger apprentice nodded, saying, "Yeah, our transport got
held up; the hyperdrive conked out. In fact, my Master,
Qui-Gon, made me do extra patience meditation because I offered
to jumpstart it using -" Then he stopped as his friend's words
registered. "In time for what?" he asked carefully.
Hosko gave him an evil-looking grin that was playful at the
same time. "You're turning eighteen tomorrow, right?" he
stated, casually punching Obi-Wan on his shoulder as he turned
and started leading his friend toward a private room in the
Academy.
"Yes. Hosko, what are you up to?"
"Me? Why, Obi-Wan Kenobi, what makes you think that I
would be up to something?"
"Your BS is piling up butt-deep to a Bantha, Hosko," Obi-Wan
laughed, digging his elbow into his friend's ribs, who yelped
and pulled away, rubbing at them in a mock-wounded manner.
"What have you got planned and am I going to like it?"
"Ahhhh, a two part question: my favorite kind," Hosko said,
grinning wickedly and rubbing his hands together. "Well, to
answer the first part, I've got a birthday party planned for
you with the rest of our little Padawan gang. The second part
is that we hope you'll have a good time, seeing as how
the last time you were here a few weeks ago, you were moping
like a kicked dog."
"I don't mope. I was just a little . . . tired, was
all," Obi-Wan said, feigning indignation and hedging his answer
at the same time.
Hosko snorted. "Yeah, and a Hutt's just a little bitty
lizard, too. C'mon, Kobi, work with us here. You're
turning eighteen, you've been 'tired' for a while now, and we
think you could use some fun. We're just tryin' to help you
lighten up a little, is all."
Obi-Wan sighed. His friend was right, he did need to
lighten up for a little bit. Things had been tense for the past
few months - oh, fine, alright, years - and it was
starting to have an adverse effect on him. He was constantly
tired, seemingly uninterested in the joys that had once seemed
so open and accessible to him, and he noticed he'd become more
than a little uptight, reserved, only cracking the occasional
joke. Considering that he had once been so full of sass and
sarcasm that his master had commented about his hair having
more gray hairs than necessary at his age . . .
His master. Qui-Gon Jinn. The man behind the turmoil and the
Master who trained him in the arts of the Jedi. While Qui-Gon
the Master was helping him immensely with the latter, Qui-Gon
the man, was royally messing up Obi-Wan's inner balance with
conflicting emotions. He didn't know when his outright hero
worship of Qui-Gon had turned into something a little less
childish and a lot more adult. After all, as a child, he'd
never fantasized about kissing every inch of Qui-Gon's body
before. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when he started
noticing that Qui-Gon had a really nice body to go with
his handsome face and his wonderful personality, his keen
intelligence, and his calm, serene manner. Obi-Wan had realized
a while back that the infatuation he'd been harboring for his
master had only strengthened, that he not only loved his master
but also had fallen in love with him. And while the young
apprentice didn't regret loving the older Jedi, he did regret
the fact that Qui-Gon seemed out of his reach.
Obi-Wan wanted to tell his master how he felt. He wanted to
touch Qui-Gon, to kiss him, to love him in every way possible.
If only his master would love him back, it would be all of the
Force to him. But he feared that he would drive his master away
from the easy camaraderie that they shared now, drive him into
a more formal partnership, and Obi-Wan ruthlessly quelled any
urges to tell Qui-Gon any of what he was feeling, because
losing Qui-Gon's friendship and his affection would be
tantamount to suicide for him, leaving him only half himself
and in an existence that had no life in it. So he kept quiet.
And he felt like hell.
Sighing yet again, he grinned at Hosko and said, "You're right,
my friend. When's the party?"
Hosko gave him a wide, delighted grin and thumped him on the
back as he said, "Right now! Just as soon as I hustle you into
the private meeting room we reserved! That is, if you don't
have anything to do?"
Obi-Wan snorted, aiming a playful slap at Hosko's head. "You
know full well that I've got the evening free!"
Hosko easily ducked the jab and then locked his arm around
Obi-Wan's neck and held the younger apprentice against him long
enough to burn his knuckles against Obi-Wan's scalp as he said,
"Yeah, but you know, it's still polite to ask first . . ."
"Since when have you bothered with politeness?!" Obi-Wan
yelped as he squirmed his way free, laughing.
Hosko feigned an indignant and hurt look as he said, "I can't
believe you just insulted me like that, Kobi! I have always
been a decent and morally upstanding Padawan and person! And
for the chance to kick your ass up between your shoulder blades
during training practice, I'll forget you said that."
Obi-Wan's laughter echoed down the hallway as he walked with
his friend towards that evening's destiny.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes as he emerged from his meditation
routine. He knew where Obi-Wan was, since the younger man had
thoughtfully called via comlink to let him know his plans for
the evening. But he could sense Obi-Wan was being less cautious
than normal, quite lax in keeping his shields up. As he probed
a little into his student's conscious thoughts, he realized
that was because Obi-Wan had indulged more than enough in some
potent alcohol.
He sighed. He wished that Obi-Wan had come to him to talk about
whatever had been bothering him of late, rather than seeking
refuge in a bottle. No matter what Obi-Wan might have told him,
at least he would have been in the beautiful young man's
presence for a little while, keeping him all to himself for
just a few precious moments, looking into those brilliant eyes.
But it was probably better that Obi-Wan was out of arm's reach
for a little while. Tonight, for some reason, he had been
feeling more in need of his young apprentice than ever before,
and Qui-Gon would do nothing to jeopardize his time with his
beloved student, not even giving in to his own desires when he
so longed to do just that.
As he strengthened his own shields against his longing and
Obi-Wan's laxity to prevent any embarrassment to his
apprentice, Qui-Gon sighed. If only he could reach out to his
Padawan and teach him the way he'd dreamed of for so long . . .
Funny how destiny is spelled i-n-t-o-x-i-c-a-t-e-d,
Obi-Wan thought to himself as he felt his way along the wall
with his free hand as he left his impromptu birthday party. His
other hand was currently gripping Hosko's arm, trying to keep
his friend upright and moving steadily along the hallway.
Hey, waitaminute . . . did I just spell? Like this? Huh.
Maybe I'm not as drunk as I - whoops!
He and Hosko stumbled to their knees in the hallway as Hosko
overbalanced and the two of them wound up giggling like ninnies
on the tiled floor.
Hosko grinned up at him. "Y'know, Kobi, I think we prob'ly had
too much t' drink."
"Urrmph . . . really?" Obi-Wan panted as he helped haul his
friend to his feet. "What was your first clue, 'Sko?"
"'Cause there wasn't a drop left when we left, too! Not a
bleedin' drop. We drank it all. Drunk it all. Great mother o'
stars. I can't feel my tongue, either. I've lost it," Hosko
said, rubbing at his mouth.
"Let's see." Willing to help, Obi-Wan laid his hands heavily on
Hosko's shoulders. "Stick it out." Eyes narrowed, he nodded.
"S'okay, pal. It's there. Fact is, you've got two of 'em.
That's the problem."
Hosko grinned and ran one of his two tongues around his teeth.
"Nah, m' friend, problem is that you got yourself a ragin'
hard-on for -"
"Ah, shut up, 'Sko!" Obi-Wan laughed as they stumbled up to the
door that led to Hosko's quarters.
"S'not my fault you let your shields down, Kobi!" Hosko said,
laughing along with him. He palmed open the door and hung there
on the frame as Obi-Wan sagged against the wall. "Hey, you
gonna get back alright? Or d' you need to just stay over for a
spell?"
"Stay in the same room with you? After what you ate tonight?"
Obi-Wan scoffed, slurring slightly. He shook his head and
braced himself against the dizziness. "I'd rather kiss a Hutt
on the lips."
Hosko growled mock-threateningly. "I could arrange that,
y'know!"
"You do an' you're a dead Jedi!"
"Not on your best day, Kobi, betcha that!"
The two of them spent the next few minutes trying to muffle
their inebriated giggles. Finally, Obi-Wan sighed and pushed
himself upright. "Well, gotta be gettin' back. It's been fun,
but y'know how it is when you're a Padawan . . ."
"Oh, yeah," Hosko groaned. "I bet anything that Master S'lennal
is gonna make me do handstands t'morrow."
"I ain't takin' that bet, nope, no way," Obi-Wan grunted as he
began to shuffle down the hallway. "'Sides, you could use
somethin' up there in that head o' yours anyway for a change!"
He only laughed as Hosko's voice floated after him, some filthy
names in five different languages rolled out in a drunken slur.
Obi-Wan then settled down to the task of putting one foot in
front of the other as he made his way to his quarters, which
were next to the one's his master had. As he came across a
small arboretum built into the hallway, he paused and collapsed
onto the bench. He needed a few moments to get his strength
built up again. But the longer he sat there, the better it felt
until finally he lay slumped across its surface, face up, just
gazing up at the ceiling that glowed with soft lights through
heavy-lidded eyes and thick eyelashes.
It wasn't long before a tall, broad-shouldered figure stood
over him, blocking the lights. His vision was too blurred for
him to make out the details, but he didn't need his eyesight to
know who it was. "Heyyyy, Master!" he squawked,
grinning. "I gotta tell ya, these trees're nice, but ya just
gotta get a bit of a softer . . . bed." Then he laughed.
Qui-Gon sighed as he looked down at his intoxicated Padawan.
"You, my young friend, are three sheets to the wind, did you
know this?"
That struck Obi-Wan as hilariously funny and he howled with
laughter, clutching his cramping stomach. When he finally got
his breath back, he gasped, "No, no, I'm fine, really! I'm
fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fiiiiiiiiine. Just ask me!"
"I don't need to; I can see for myself the state you're in,"
Qui-Gon said as he bent down and hefted his student's long body
into his arms and turned, making his way out of the arboretum
and down the hall toward Obi-Wan's quarters.
"What state? Denial? No denyin' that!" Obi-Wan laughed against
his neck. And then Qui-Gon faltered for just a moment when he
felt his apprentice nuzzle against his neck as the younger man
purred, "Mmmmm. You have fabulous skin, Master mine . .
."
"Obi-Wan, stop that," he said quietly as he neared the door to
his Padawan's quarters, trying desperately to ignore the need
building in his own body.
Obi-Wan just grinned and said, "But you do! So soft an' strong,
especially right here . . ."
Qui-Gon stiffened, gasping, as he felt Obi-Wan begin to teethe
his neck, nipping and biting on his skin with his teeth. As if
seeking to soothe whatever "damage" he had caused, Obi-Wan then
kissed the nipped spot and, much to Qui-Gon's delight and
dismay, licked him with the tip of his warm, wet tongue.
"Padawan, don't . . ."
"Why, Master? You taste so good," Obi-Wan whispered. Just
before he trailed a long, wet slide of his mouth up Qui-Gon's
neck to his ear to worry at the lobe, he added, "I want to
taste all of you." Then he was making a light meal out of the
tender flesh of Qui-Gon's ear.
The Jedi Master stumbled, turning and slamming his shoulder
against the access panel to the doorway. When it opened, he
took a deep breath and forced himself to march inside, taking
Obi-Wan directly to the bed in the small bedroom and lay his
apprentice down on it. "Obi-Wan! Stop!"
Obi-Wan might have been drunk, knew he was, but nothing could
get to him faster than hearing his master's displeasure.
Hearing it now, he pulled back his head to look up at Qui-Gon.
Upon seeing his master's stern expression, a sense of despair
washed over him and he let go of the older Jedi, turning his
face away into his pillow as he mumbled, "I'm sorry, Master.
I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have . . . but I wanted to, for so
long . . ."
Qui-Gon shuddered as he looked down at Obi-Wan. Was he hearing
right? Or was it just the alcohol speaking? Did he dare to
believe, to hope, that his beloved Padawan felt the same for
him that he felt for Obi-Wan? Looking down at his now miserable
student, he chided himself. Whether he does or not, right
now he needs to know that you have not forsaken him entirely,
Qui-Gon, he told himself. At least do part of your duty
right and comfort your Padawan.
Leaning down, he pulled Obi-Wan back over so that the young man
was lying on his back. Lightly stroking the younger man's
forehead, he leaned down close so that Obi-Wan could look into
his eyes. "Just rest now, my Padawan. You need to rest.
Everything is fine, you'll see in the morning."
And then all of his synapses fired in a short-term neuron
failure as Obi-Wan leaned up and breathlessly, hungrily,
pressed his open mouth to Qui-Gon's. The older Jedi gave one
convulsive shudder before his arms wrapped tightly around his
apprentice and he slanted his mouth, kissing the younger man
back.
For long moments the two Jedi feasted on each other's tongue
and teeth and lips, panting and gasping for air as they
strained to mesh their mouths together, dying for the taste of
the other's essences. It wasn't until Qui-Gon drove his tongue
into Obi-Wan's mouth to taste, stroke, and drive him wild,
hearing the young man moan like a dying creature, that he was
brought halfway back to his senses.
"Obi-Wan," he gasped, pulling his mouth free of his
apprentice's voracious kiss. "We . . . we shouldn't do this.
You won't thank me . . . for taking advantage of you . . . I
can't take advantage of you, not like this. I care too much . .
."
"Master . . . Qui-Gon . . . please," Obi-Wan moaned,
opening his eyes as he reached up, gripping his teacher's
shoulders tightly. "Please, just . . . just take me. And let
tomorrow take care of itself." That said, he arched up,
grinding what he could of his body against his master's,
letting Qui-Gon feel the throbbing hardness between his legs.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and bit off a muffle curse. Then he
threw all sense of caution to the four winds and took his
Padawan's mouth in a hungry, needy kiss, letting his shields
down, letting Obi-Wan sense all that he had held back for so
long . . . rejoicing when he felt Obi-Wan let down his own
shields, allowing Qui-Gon into his mind to know that his
feelings were returned whole-heartedly . . .
There was no slow tenderness then, but an aching, desperate
drive to join together. No slow, postponed lovemaking as
Qui-Gon would have liked for their first time, but an urgent
need that had to be slaked, and quickly, before he lost all
control and ravaged his helpless Padawan with no mercy.
Clothing was discarded with kisses and caresses, Obi-Wan's
hands stroking over his master's shoulders and back, pushing
his tunic down, then stroking across the muscular chest.
Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan remove his tunic, caressing him and
leaning down to briefly suckle on the pebbled nipples before he
quickly pulled off the apprentice's boots and then tugged off
his trousers. The impressive erection that sprang forth made
his mouth water and he leaned down, taking it in his hand as he
pressed singeing kisses to Obi-Wan's thighs first. When Obi-Wan
rolled his hips, rolling himself into Qui-Gon's firm grip, the
older Jedi opened his mouth and licked the clear fluid weeping
from the tip of his beloved's erection, then took his tongue on
a volatile dance over the head and shaft before finally
acknowledging Obi-Wan's wordless pleas. He took Obi-Wan's
erection deep into his mouth, suckling on him fiercely before
he moved back, then down again, taking him deep into his throat
and tightening his muscles.
Obi-Wan shuddered as Qui-Gon did this again and again, and he
could not control his hips from grinding up and down, moving in
and out of his master's mouth. The shuddering became an
uncontrollable trembling as he felt his orgasm begin, gliding
up through his balls, traveling to his erection as though it
were liquid flame. And then he came, hard, working his hardened
manhood in and out of that hot, wet, willing mouth, hearing
himself screaming in utter ecstasy and not caring a damn.
He lost consciousness for only a few moments and then he became
aware of his master moving as Qui-Gon shucked out of his pants
and boots. Opening his eyes to slits, Obi-Wan gasped his
master's name.
Qui-Gon glanced down at the young man beside him as he sat on
the bed, removing his clothing. "What, my beloved?" he
murmured, his cock throbbing as if fit to burst the skin
surrounding it. Qui-Gon wasn't at all certain that if it wasn't
relieved soon, it might just do that or not.
And then the lust hazed his mind when Obi-Wan whimpered,
"Inside me . . . I want to feel you deep inside me . . . give
me all you can, I'll take what I can from you, even if it's
just lust . . .!"
"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon growled as he moved to join his Padawan,
"it's not just lust. Believe me, what I feel for you is not so
trifling as that." Then he bent and once again took Obi-Wan's
cock into his mouth. Again he teased him to hardness, that
second hardness that always lasts so much longer than the
first, and then he moved lower, sliding his tongue over and
around Obi-Wan's balls and then lower still, to the tightly
puckered entrance to the younger man's body. He teased and
stroked until the ring of muscle had relaxed and was
well-lubricated, then he pushed a finger into his writhing
apprentice to prepare him still further.
"Master . . ." Obi-Wan moaned, his hips jerking and
writhing as he clawed at Qui-Gon's head, trying to pull him up
and over him.
Qui-Gon was in no mood to deny his Padawan, only to take and
take until there was nothing left to take, or to give. Moving
up, he positioned his throbbing cock as he bent to capture
Obi-Wan's mouth with his own. Then he entered him, thrusting
hard and deep.
Obi-Wan arched up with a small cry of pleasure and pain,
gripping Qui-Gon's biceps tightly. Qui-Gon bit off a muffled
curse and slowly withdrew a little, then more slowly worked
himself back in to the hilt, his second thrust wringing a cry
of intense pleasure from the young man beneath him.
"Stars," he said, his voice stifled, his body held still and
tight, as if one more thrust would shatter his control and he
wouldn't stop until he had climaxed. Then he felt Obi-Wan's
legs snaking around his hips, felt the younger man's inner
muscles tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper, and he
let out a guttural, shuddering moan as he surged deeper, then
held himself motionless once more as he bent down to kiss
Obi-Wan hungrily.
And his control shattered when the younger man growled in sheer
carnality and kissed him just as hungrily, then leaned further
up and sank his teeth into Qui-Gon's shoulder, his hard fingers
digging into the tense muscles of Qui-Gon's back.
He took Obi-Wan then with powerful thrusts that made the
younger man's body shudder under the impact. He drove hard and
deep inside the young, thrashing body beneath him, the one that
arched up into him, lifted for him. With each inward thrust the
heat and the friction intensified for both of them until
Obi-Wan, his hips rocking back and forth, sobbed and cried out
as he climaxed hard and fast, his seed spilling warm and wet
between their lunging, grinding, loving bodies. Without mercy,
Qui-Gon rode him through it until finally, with a choked,
gasping cry, his mind hazed, his thoughts scattered, and he
emptied himself into Obi-Wan, bucking and lunging against the
younger man as he spurted inside him.
In the silence that followed, the two men could hear each
other's gasping breath, rough and jerky. Obi-Wan wanted to tell
his master that he loved him, that he loved what his master had
just done to him, that he had never before felt so perfect, but
before he could do more than sigh his master's name, he was
asleep, nestled into the strong, protective embrace of the man
he loved.
Qui-Gon held his young lover close, pressing a cherishing kiss
to the younger man's temple, and then used the last of his
strength to pull the cover up over them before sleep stole him
away from conscious thought.
Suffering was to be expected.
Overindulgence had to be paid for, and Obi-Wan, as a good Jedi,
was always willing to pay his way. But it seemed a little
extreme to have to take a short, vicious trip to hell because
of one foolish evening.
His head was cracked in two. It didn't show, a fact that
relieved him considerably when he managed to crawl into the
bathroom the following morning. He looked haggard, but whole.
Obviously the jagged break in his skull was on the inside.
He'd probably be dead by nightfall.
His eyes were small, hard balls of fire. The inside of his
mouth had been swabbed with something too foul to imagine. His
stomach clutched and seized like a nervous fist.
He began to hope he'd be dead by nightfall.
And when he remembered the events of the previous evening in
full detail a few moments later, he began to pray that it would
be much, much sooner.
Since there was no one around, he indulged himself in a few
whimpers as he stepped into the shower. He'd have sworn the
smell of whiskey was seeping out of his pores, and every other
available orifice. One of which throbbed tenderly as a nagging
reminder of his base actions last night.
Moving with the care of the aged or the infirm, he climbed out
of the tub, wrapped a towel around his waist. He did what he
could to wash the hideous taste out of his mouth.
When he stepped into the bedroom, he yelped, slapped a hand
over his eyes in time - he hoped - to keep them from bursting
out of his head. Some sadist had come in and turned on the
lights.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," his master's voice purred softly. "I had
forgotten that you would be suffering the agonies of the damned
this morning."
Obi-Wan cringed at the sound of Qui-Gon's voice, and couldn't
really understand why Qui-Gon was speaking softly, nor why he
sensed the lights had been turned down to accommodate him.
After the way he had behaved last night, surely Qui-Gon would
be upset, wouldn't . . . he . . .?
He plain and simply gaped as he lowered his hand and looked.
Qui-Gon stood in his bedroom as naked as the day he'd been
born, only in much better condition. His body was . . . the
word exquisite flashed into his mind. Lean, muscled, and
gleaming. He found himself averting his eyes, swallowing hard.
"I brought you a breakfast tray," Qui-Gon said easily, hiding a
grin at his Padawan's discomfiture. "I thought you might be
hungry."
Unable to resist, seeing as how it was second nature to him,
Obi-Wan gave a tiny smile as he muttered, "Then it wasn't the
wrath of a vengeful god." His voice was rough, but he feared
the act of clearing it might do more damage. "For a moment I
thought I was being struck down for my sins."
"It's only porridge, toast, and some Corellian coffee."
"Coffee." He said the word like a prayer.
"Would you like me to pour you some, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked
solicitously.
Obi-Wan glanced at him warily, ignoring the dull throbbing in
his temples. Why was Qui-Gon being so careful and considerate
after the way he had thrown himself at his master so
desperately last night? "Master?"
"Yes, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon said as he calmly filled a cup of
coffee for his apprentice and held it out to the young man.
"Why . . . are you doing this?"
"Doing what? Don't you like breakfast?" Qui-Gon fought to keep
his grin in check.
"You know what I mean," Obi-Wan said quietly, after taking a
sip of the life-rejuvenating beverage.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Obi-Wan. You're going
to have spell it out for me, as I find I'm still too rattled
this morning to exercise proper nuance control if I probed your
mind. Besides which, that would most likely hurt you worse than
you are suffering now, and I have no wish to inflict pain on
you of that magnitude."
Obi-Wan sighed. "Fine, then!" he snapped, stiffening his
shoulders for what he feared would come. "I mean, why are you
being so considerate and gentle with me after the way I
practically dragged you into bed with me and forced you to make
love with me? Why haven't you - you . . ."
"Why haven't I punished you? Why am I still tending to you as a
Master does to a Padawan, as a friend does to a friend?"
Qui-Gon said quietly as he moved closer, lifting a hand to
gently stroke Obi-Wan's cheek. "Why am I not angry?"
Obi-Wan nodded stiffly, not daring to hope at what his master's
actions might mean.
"Because, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, looking into his eyes, "I
love you. And I want to thank you for the most incredible night
of my life."
Qui-Gon used the Force and caught the cup as it slipped out of
Obi-Wan's nerveless fingers. He placed the cup - coffee and all
- back on the tray before facing his Padawan again, waiting for
a different reaction, a more favorable one.
"You . . . what?" Obi-Wan whispered. If this was a hangover
inspired dream, it was the best he'd ever had, but he didn't
know if he could handle the despair that would follow if he
woke up to realize it was just a dream.
"I said, I love you. How could I not? You're beautiful,
passionate, and a pleasure to be with every day. I do enjoy
teaching you, learning with you, showing you things. And, as I
hope you recall last night, I do so enjoy getting my hands on
you," Qui-Gon said, smiling now.
"I'm dreaming. I can't be dreaming, I don't want this to be a
dream," Obi-Wan muttered, closing his eyes.
He opened them moments later when he felt Qui-Gon's mouth
against his own. "Did that feel like a dream?" his master asked
with a teasing grin as he pulled back.
Then Obi-Wan was in his arms, his mouth crushed to Qui-Gon's as
he whispered, "Love you . . . for so . . . long. I was dying .
. ."
Qui-Gon held him close as he kissed Obi-Wan back just as
passionately. "I know that now, my beloved. I know that now.
And believe me, I'm very glad of it. I've loved you for a long,
long time as well. Now, maybe, we can start making up for lost
time."
Obi-Wan moaned and tried to press closer, desiring nothing more
than to dissolve himself inside his master's skin and become
one with him.
Qui-Gon pulled back and then held Obi-Wan still and probed at
the younger man's mind with his own through their
Master-Padawan link. When Obi-Wan gasped and swayed, his skin
going pale gray, Qui-Gon said, "I believe it's a little too
soon for us to try anything like last night's marathon session
again, but perhaps after you've rested for a bit . . ."
He lifted the younger man into his arms and placed Obi-Wan in
his bed, covering the Jedi with the blanket. Then he helped
Obi-Wan to sit up, a pillow at his back as the apprentice
stated his hunger for food.
He chuckled as he watched Obi-Wan eat the porridge rapidly. He
got to his feet and stretched languorously, enjoying the way
Obi-Wan's eyes went hot as they riveted on his body. Then he
turned and headed for the shower as he said, "Patience, my
beloved, patience. Last night was wonderful enough, but we do
have enough time to wait until you're at full capacity again."
"Master."
Qui-Gon stopped and turned back to face his apprentice just
before he reached the bathroom.
Obi-Wan grinned as he gave his lover one long, scorching look
as he said, "Next time, I won't be plastered."
Feedback: Don't care for any flames, but if'n you have any
helpful hints and suggestions or, even better, want to tell me
that you liked this, then send any and all C.A.R.E mails to:
SilvarBelle@msn.com
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