Summary: 'What if - Qui-Gon was not Obi-Wan's Master and they
meet when Obi-Wan is 20 & someone else's Padawan.
Feedback: Yes, please (please, please).
Many thanks to my partner for beta reading and feeding me while
writing!
Qui-Gon Jinn was glad to be back on Coruscant again. It had
been months, one mission after another, Chancellor Valorum
using him as almost a personal operative. Qui-Gon knew his work
was good -- he had prevented several wars, negotiated six
treaties, and now he was just tired and hungry. It was dinner
hour, and chose to leave his rooms and join rest of the Temple
in community dining.
The room was huge, as it had to be to hold so many. Chocolate
brown robes, lighter brown, tunics, all manner of species, with
a hundred different languages, this was the organized chaos of
his memories. He drank in the sight for a moment then moved to
join the upper line, where Masters were served the same food
without the longer wait. In front of him was an old friend,
Treven Delain, who was delighted to see him and kept up a flow
of conversation as they chose food and went to a table filled
with other Masters. Qui-Gon was greeted enthusiastically. No
one asked where he had been. They all knew his work was
currently governmental and delicate. But they wanted to know
how he was, if he had taken a new Padawan, if he was going to
the reception the next afternoon.
He answered briefly, but with smiles. He was Sith tired, thank
you very much (evidenced by what he knew to be dark circles
under his eyes, and a face that was too lean), no, he was not
taking a new Padawan, and if they were all going to this
reception, he might think about it. They laughed at him, teased
him a little. It was so good to be back.
"Speaking of Padawans," someone down the table said, "Sampris
Daa is due back in."
Beside him Treven laughed. "That boy is off limits, Rojud. Very
nice, but far too young."
"Not so, Trev," one of the other Masters shot back. "It's been
awhile since they were here, but I saw them on Malastair last
week. Obi-Wan Kenobi is grown up, and Sam's let him off the
leash. What, he must be at least 19 -20 years old by now."
Rojud leaned forward, "Please don't tell me he's gotten boils
or something."
"No," the Master grinned at them all. "No, he's just gotten a
little taller, more muscles, that sort of thing. Sam's very
proud of him, and I can see why. He and my Padawan did a little
exercising together and he beat Hornic hands down. He'll be an
excellent Jedi, I suspect. he had no victory in the win and
they went off together like old chums."
Qui-Gon listened and was mildly impressed. Hornic was a
ferocious fighter, one of the best amongst the Padawans, but he
tended to be stand-offish by nature. This Obi-Wan must not only
be good, but be diplomatic as well. "I haven't seen Sam in a
long time," he said mildly. "Years. Who is this new Padawan?"
"Not new," Treven offered him table salt. "Obi-Wan became his
Padawan learner about, what, eight years ago? Something like
that. Skinny little drab of a boy, if I remember. But you know
Sam. He can pick good potential."
Rojud added, "And the boy's done well by him. But forgetting
all that, just watch him walk away from you...Sith, he's a
moving wet dream."
"Hide it in your robes, RJ," someone advised rudely, and they
all laughed, including Rojud.
"Well, well," Treven said in Qui-Gon's ear. "Here's Sam now.
And Obi-Wan."
Master Sampris Daa had entered with his wife, Master JIlia, who
carried their 2 year old son. Two steps behind and to the left,
in perfect position, was the Padawan in question. He was
covered from shoulder to foot by his robe, and his head was
turned away. He had brown hair, impossible to tell the shade
under these artificial lights, his Padawan's braid hung to his
waist, and he walked with assurance -- not as if he owned the
Galaxy, but more as though he was sure of his place in it.
The Padawan turned as someone called his name and he flashed a
grin and a lifted hand to a table of Padawans. He spoke to his
Master, who nodded, then he bowed formally to Master Jllia. The
toddler, who had his mother's blonde curls, threw himself out
of Jllia's arms toward the Padawan, who caught him, laughing,
and tucked him under one arm with the ease of long experience
He asked and got permission for something else, then took the
child with him to the Padawan food line.
Qui-Gon watched all this and was agreeably impressed. The Force
was very strong in Sam's Padawan. The young man had eyes that
were light with humor, but soft as well, as he looked down at
the child in his arms. Qui-Gon finished his dinner and sat
back, leaning in his seat, years of testing telling him just
how far he could tip the chair back. He stretched long legs
out, crossing one boot over the other, and let the Masters'
table conversation wash over him. He had missed this comraderie
of late. Working alone as he did, sometimes it was a healing of
its own just to feel such a wave of Force in the air. These
were good friends, good people, and so many times he had to
work on the jagged edges of darkness. Light that had nothing to
do with lighting wove around this place.
Sam and Jllia had finished selecting food and Treven waved them
over. Sam sat across from Qui-Gon, and Jllia beside him.
"Qui-Gon Jinn!" Sam's smile was warm. "I swear I was sure you
made every effort to just miss me back here. When I'm here,
you're not."
"Yes," Qui-Gon murmured, "Yoda arranges our schedules just for
that reason."
Sam beamed at him. Down the table Rojud asked a question and
Sam turned away. Jllia was eating quietly. She worked in the
Temple, Qui-Gon knew, something to do with communications. He
asked, because he was curious, "Is it good having Sam back with
you for awhile?"
It seemed a stupid question, but she understood. "When he's
here I know he's safe." She took another bite, chewed and
swallowed. "Though it's been so much better since he took
Obi-Wan as his apprentice." Her eyes followed the Padawan as he
took his tray in one hand, still carrying the child in his
other arm, threading through milling bodies to his friends'
table.
Qui-gon followed her gaze and watched as Obi-Wan set down the
tray, then the child. The little one immediately crawled inside
his robe, snuggling against the Padawan, who played a few
seconds of peekaboo, then just enfolded him while he calmly
ate, talking with his companions. "He seems to be highly
thought of here."
"Sam's doing meditations on pride these days," Jllia continued
to eat. "Obi-Wan's turned into a fine young man. I trust Sam's
life to him and he's yet to let me down."
"So many virtues," Qui-Gon said it softly.
"Too many vices," Jllia countered. "He has a wicked sense of
humor, that one, and he bores easily, though he's much better
at that than he was a few years ago. He needs work in the
Living Force, Sam says, and he'll never be much good at quantum
physics. He knows the answers, can't tell you how he got
there."
"Do you know," Qui-Gon remarked, "that in all the years I've
been a Jedi, I've never once had to use quantum physics?"
"Well, don't tell him that," Jllia warned. "If the great
Qui-Gon Jinn does not need mathematics, how will Sam get him to
do his sums?"
"I will consider not telling him," Qui-Gon's years of diplomacy
made it sound like a promise.
Conversation went on for awhile and Qui-Gon began to grow
sleepy. He excused himself and made his way toward the large
double doors. Halfway there something plowed into his legs, so
small it didn't even rock him. He bent down and scooped up a
laughing toddler with blond curls, even as hands were reaching
for the child. "Hello, my little one."
"I'm sorry, Master," Qui-Gon looked down into the light eyes of
Obi-Wan Kenobi and felt a jolt hit him clear to his toes.
Obi-Wan was taking the toddler from him, and there was a moment
where attention was diverted because there were sticky fingers
clenching Qui-Gon's hair. Qui-Gon took a breath and centered
himself. Where in Sith Hells had THAT come from?
Obi-Wan had the child firmly now and Qui-Gon realized he hadn't
answered the Padawan's apology. He nodded his head, then asked,
"This is Master Sampris's son, Eli, isn't he? So you must be
Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Obi-Wan's bow was short and somewhat less than formal because
Eli was squirming. "Yes, Master." He was clearly waiting for
dismissal, and grinned when Eli stated very loudly, "I have to
GO. NOW."
Qui-Gon smiled back and released the Padawan, catching the
somewhat exasperated remark Obi-Wan made to Eli as they went
toward a side door, "How do they put up with you in Creche, you
little monster?" It was said with great affection and Eli was
giggling.
With his robe swung back as he carried the boy, Qui-Gon felt
that gossip had been correct about one thing. Seeing Obi-Wan
Kenobi walk away had to be one of the most lovely sights in
this star system.
Amused at himself, he went on his way. He did not realize that
most of the Padawans, and almost all of the students watched
him go, thinking exactly the same thing about Master Jinn.
It was a beautiful day for the reception. Not too hot, not too
cold, with a faint breeze. It was being held in the Council
Gardens, where the high stone walls gave the impression of
being in the country. The gardens were huge and lush, the
company was good, the food was better. Qui-Gon liked his food
plain and his companions the same way. Too many years of exotic
dishes and artificial conversation meant to impress the Jedi
Master had taken their toll. This spread was just for Jedi,
welcoming back Qui-Gon, Sampris and Obi-Wan, and two other Jedi
Masters and Padawans. All back at home from long missions away
- but it was really just an excuse for friends to get together.
Qui-Gon made the rounds, enjoying it this time, ate and drank,
then wandered off by himself to check the far end of the
garden, where, when he had been a new Padawan, Yoda had helped
him plant a Joxtrepia bush. "Every time come back to the Temple
you do," Yoda had said, "Check on this planting you will.
Always bloom for you it will."
It was true. Joxtrepia bushes were personality specific. When
he was away the bush slumbered with dark green leaves. From the
moment he set foot in the Temple the bush sprang into life,
huge yellow blossoms hanging from every limb. They looked like
multi-suns against the darker background. Qui-gon fingered a
branch, smelling the scent that was essentially himself, copied
by the plant.
"My old friend," he said softly to the bush. "I am your
unworthy servant and I am awed by your gift of flowers."
A voice behind him said, "Is this a Joxtrepia?"
Qui-Gon turned. "Hello Obi-Wan. Yes, it is. I planted this a
long time ago."
Obi-Wan gazed at him, said softly. "Not all that long ago."
Something hung in the air, then Forces swirled and settled
while their eyes locked. Qui-Gon felt that jolt again and the
startled look on Obi-Wan's face told him the Padawan was
feeling something as well. The noise from the party fell away,
the ever constant buzz of air traffic gone. He was totally
focused on Obi-Wan, taking in those incredible light eyes, a
different color than the night before, probably hazel in
reality. The look in those eyes riveted him -- surprise, giving
way immediately to speculation, then sliding into a liquid,
smokey look. Qui-Gon felt himself being drawn forward, and
stopped, frowning.
Obi-Wan asked, "Are you doing this?"
"No."
"Oh, good," he sighed. The feeling was easing now, but still
thrummed between them. Qui-gon had a mental image of grabbing
the Padawan by his robes and throwing him up against the wall
and...
He stopped, because he was not sending and yet he was being
read. Obi-Wan's mouth quirked up on one side. "Too public I
think," he murmured. "And my place has a sleeping two-year old
in it."
"Slow down." Qui-Gon held up a hand. "I don't even know you."
"I know you," Obi-Wan told him. "Just now I know you."
The Padawan opened up to him, not everything, just what he was
seeing, feeling at this moment in time. How he wanted to taste
Qui-Gon -- his mouth, his sweat, his cum -- and smell, and soak
himself in strong arms wrapped around him. It was frank,
unabashed need for him. Just for him. Qui-Gon caught a glimpse
of Obi-Wan's own astonishment and wry humor, as if he had been
caught way off guard and overwhelmed, but that he was finding
this very erotic. And something else. Obi-Wan was not a shy
virgin. He was experienced, and when he had desires about
tasting Qui-Gon, he knew exactly what that entailed. Qui-Gon's
eyes went to the younger man's lips as he licked first the top,
then the bottom. It was done without thinking because he was
breathing too fast, but the sight surged blood into Qui-Gon's
groin.
He asked Obi-Wan, "Do you feel any darkness here?"
A moment, then the Padawan shook his head.
"Then come with me," Qui-Gon said, and swept past Obi-Wan, not
touching, not thinking really. He was followed, as he knew he
would be, through the garden, out a side door behind a trellis,
down the marble hall, stairs, a different part of the Temple,
to his rooms in the Masters' quarters. He palmed the door open,
took several steps and heard the door close behind him. Not
turning around he asked, "Why?"
Obi-Wan answered and he could hear the honesty in the young
man's voice. "Because I need to. I thought last night. . .but
just now, it's like I looked at you and my life fell into place
somehow. I don't even know your name. But I know I need you,
right here and right now. And please need me, too."
Arms came up under his, crossing his chest, and a slim, hard
body rested against his back, briefly. Then Obi-Wan pulled
away. "Am I alone here?"
"No." Qui-Gon turned. "You put it very well." He held out a
hand this time, and Obi-Wan took it and followed him into the
bedroom.
They stood by the bed, looking at each other, both breathing
faster, and the Master reached out. Obi-Wan's robe fell in a
puddle at their feet. He lifted his arms and did the same for
Qui-Gon, then his hands held the bearded faced and pulled him
down to be kissed.
It was supposed to be a slow first kiss, a small tasting, short
exploration of 'what do you like, new lover?'; but it burned,
and Obi-Wan moaned, low in his throat, opening his mouth,
sucking the invading tongue inside. Qui-Gon felt the surge in
his groin again and pulled him closer, getting an answering
feel of hardness. Hands were at his waist, deftly unbuckling
his belt, untying the sash. Fingers slid over his chest and
around him.
"Skin," Obi-Wan breathed. "Please..."
He seemed reluctant to let the Master go, seemed fascinated by
nipples hardening under his lips, so Qui-Gon undid Obi-Wan's
belt and sash, and slipped his tunics off his shoulders,
pausing to grip his arms, bringing them together again, his
arousal causing a faint growl to escape him. Obi-Wan lifted his
face, flushed, breathing through his mouth, lips slightly
parted, and Qui-Gon kissed him again, already gathering the
smaller body close, bringing them to lie on the bed. He
shrugged out of his tunic, and began unfastening Obi-Wan's
pants, not breaking the kiss, sucking at top lip and bottom,
tongues wrapped around each other.
There were hands in his hair, loosening the tie, fingers
dragging through the long strands, shaking a little. Qui-Gon
pushed at his pants and Obi-Wan wiggled a little, then groaned
and pulled away.
"It's not enough!" He said it wildly, pulling at the pants,
undoing his boots with lightning speed. In seconds he was
naked, brushing Qui-Gon's hands aside to perform the same small
miracle on him. Once naked, Qui-Gon pulled him back down, so he
was laying on top the larger man, their arms outstretched,
fingers twined, their stomachs rubbing together, already slick
with sweat, erection to erection.
Qui-Gon took a shuddering breath. He'd never, never felt this
before. Every cell of his body was alive, tingling. He opened
his eyes and met Obi-Wan's hot look, felt a sensation of awe
that this incredible, gorgeous creature desired him, then
thought flew away as his lips were taken again, one at a time.
Oh, this Padawan knew how to use his tongue, and teeth. Every
graze across Qui-Gon's mouth, and neck and chest was fire.
Hands untangled from his and stroked down his flanks. Qui-Gon
spread his legs, arching up with his hips. He was saying
something inarticulate, that somehow Obi-Wan understood,
because the tongue and teeth left off teasing and traveled
straight down to his hard cock. Obi-Wan's hands pulled back
foreskin and then he was sucked down into hot moistness, tongue
swirled over the head, And he heard the deep sound of
satisfaction from this lover, as if he had never tasted
anything so good.
He bucked up again, and was held with strong hands. Obi-Wan was
stroking him, using his entire face, not letting him move.
Qui-Gon felt himself gather, white heat rushing to center, and
he was let go, uncompleted. Obi-Wan lifted, settled beside him,
and said simply, "I want you inside me."
Qui-Gon felt another growl rising. Yes. Gods, yes. His own
hands were shaking, his fingers finally touching, lightly, over
the Padawan's face. Obi-Wan turned into the feel, obviously
delighting in every touch, kissing any part of the hands near
his mouth. He offered his neck, vulnerable, and when Qui-Gon
sucked at his throat, he pulled the big man closer, fingers,
then nails scraping down his back. He was gasping now and his
cock pulsed hard against Qui-Gon's stomach.
Qui-Gon took the cock in his hand, slowly stroking, up and
down, and Obi-Wan thrust into his hand, then pushed his head
down, demanding silently to be sucked. He tasted faintly salty,
bitter, wonderful. Qui-Gon became fascinated, drawing him
deeper into his throat, sucking hard, wanting more. They hit a
wild rhythm, Obi-Wan straining, Qui-Gon holding him back. Not
yet. Not yet. He broke off, breathing hard, and for a moment
rested his head on the smooth belly. Muscles rippled under his
cheek, and fingers combed through his long hair.
Then Qui-Gon rose to his knees and lifted Obi-Wan's legs,
settling between, spreading him, watching. He reached out one
arm, one finger touching swollen lips and Obi-Wan sucked it in,
thoroughly wetting the digit. Qui-Gon withdrew the finger and
rubbed it against the tight anal opening, slipping barely
inside. Obi-wan laughed and sobbed once and came, cum spurting
over his abdomen. Before he stopped Qui-gon had gathered it and
was coating himself, using it as lubricant for one finger, then
two, Obi-Wan's body quickly accommodating him, tight and hot.
He glanced up, saw Obi-Wan languidly rolling the rest of his
cum over his own nipples, felt the hips resting on his thighs
part further, legs going around him, vaguely aware he'd never
seen anything quite so erotic as this Padawan sucking his own
cum from one finger. The head of his cock throbbed and he
entered the body beneath him, desperately trying to hold back.
But Obi-Wan was staring back at him, fiercely, as his legs rose
higher, encouraging a deep thrust.
Inside his head he heard a moaning litany, I'm so hot,
please, do this, please, do it, please. . .
And he was hot, relaxing, allowing entrance to the tight canal,
finger to glove, perfect fit. Obi-Wan's whole body rose in a
spasmodic arch, cock already hard again. Qui-Gon withdrew,
almost out, and drove in again, and again, and they found that
wild rhythm again, this time letting go. He could hear his body
slap against Obi-Wan's, hear gasping breaths that were his own
or his lover's, or theirs combined. The voice in his head was
groaning, coaxing, demanding. He went faster, his hands finding
purchase on Obi-Wan's cock, stroking into their rhythm. This
time the white fire gathered and burst, and he jerked forward,
twice, into the willing body beneath him, then froze, climax
hitting him hard, full-body, clear into his soul.
Obi-Wan's hands were over his, urging him not to stop stroking
his cock, faster, faster. Then Obi-Wan came again, and Qui-Gon
slipped out of him to catch it in his mouth, his hands sliding
under Obi-Wan's buttocks, fingers splaying, squeezing. When
Obi-Wan finally relaxed, laughing a little, Qui-Gon let him go,
leaned up over him and kissed him, letting him taste himself.
He had a half-impression in his mind of total contentment, knew
that Obi-Wan felt his own sensations and that somehow something
had opened between them.
It didn't seem to bother Obi-Wan. He stretched like a cat, then
wound himself around Qui-Gon, apparently boneless. Qui-Gon
settled on his back, bringing Obi-Wan half with him, and slowly
drew lines and patterns with his fingertips over his back. The
Padawan's head rested on his chest, and he could feel his
heartbeat rising to meet the listening ear. Obi-Wan's hair was
spiky with sweat and he kissed it, closed his eyes, and fell
asleep.
He awoke hours later, with Obi-Wan still wrapped around him,
already awake, using the end of his Padawan braid to tickle his
chest. He smiled sleepily, somehow tremendously glad he wasn't
alone and that his company was Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Obi-Wan pursed his lips for a second, then said, "I still don't
know who you are. Do you have a name, or are you some sort of
figment of my imagination? I don't want to be pushy or
anything, but I'm late and my Master has been trying to contact
me for awhile. I'd like to tell him more than 'I'm alright.'"
He leaned closer, pressed his mouth against the Master's,
opening to an instantly questing tongue. They kissed for a long
time, slowly, like they had not been able to do before. Qui-Gon
wrapped his long arms around his lover, and whispered, "My name
is Qui-Gon Jinn."
"That's nice," Obi-Wan's tongue had gone to his ear, and his
hands were beginning to explore as well. "If you don't mind,
I'll just pass that along to Master Sam."
"I don't mind at all, as long as he doesn't mind."
"It won't be the first time," Obi-wan muttered ruefully.
"Though I have a feeling it may be the last."
There was a buzz in the Force, strong but quiet, Obi-Wan using
telepathy. For a moment he was still, then he broke contact and
sat up, looking startled. After a moment, he said, "My Master
wants to know if you plan on taking a Padawan."
Qui-Gon understood. "Tell him I just took one, thank you very
much, and no, I won't be taking a Padawan learner."
Obi-Wan was still sitting beside him, legs folded, completely
at ease with his nudity. He concentrated, then nodded, then
relaxed. "He says to throw me out some time before practice
tomorrow."
Qui-Gon reached for him. "Not enough time."
When they awoke again it was night. They showered, leisurely
soaping each other, gradually falling into stroking, kissing,
slow fire building. They fixed a cold meal and ate it in bed,
Qui-Gon feeding bits of fruit to him, Obi-Wan laughing so hard
most of the juice ended up in the sheets. They talked, finding
out little pieces of life -- Qui-Gon did not like kimber seeds,
Obi-Wan loved them; they both preferred books to vids; Obi-Wan
was mechanically minded, Qui-Gon knew just enough to get by --
beginnings of knowledge. Sometimes they used words, and
sometimes they felt along this new link, strange to both of
them. Then they made love again, slowly building this time, and
Obi-Wan came inside Qui-Gon, making that strange humming noise
that Qui-Gon was starting to become addicted to. They slept
again.
Early morning hours and Qui-Gon was abruptly brought awake by
being thumped hard on the shoulder. He opened his eyes to find
Obi-Wan glaring at him, looking seriously angry. Not yet
coherent, he managed to say, "Whot?"
"I just realized. You," the Padawan ground out, "are Qui-Gon
Jinn."
"I know that."
"Master Jinn."
"For some time now. I've gotten used to the name, but I'll
change it if you like."
Obi-Wan was not pleased. "You are a legend around here."
"Believe me, I'm not legend material."
"They all talk about you. Every student wants to be your
Padawan, every Padawan wants to. . ." here Obi-Wan stopped,
obviously thinking this over.
Interested, Qui-Gon asked, "What do they say?"
Obi-Wan's mouth quirked, a sign Qui-Gon was beginning to
understand meant he'd thought of something privately funny.
"Well, the usual. You are so good at what you do that
Chancellor Valorum entrusts all manner of assignments to you
--"
"Unfortunately true."
"That you've had two Padawans, and after Xanatos, you swore
you'd never take another, but Yoda wants you to."
"Also true."
"You're the best lightsaber warrior in all the Jedi."
"Sith, I hope not!"
"One of the girls has a thing about your hands," Obi-Wan was
relaxing again, and when Qui-Gon held out his hand, he took it,
running his fingers over calluses, scars, deep lines in his
palms, blunt fingers, and to him the hand was full of beauty.
"She wonders what it would be like to be touched by the great
Qui-Gon Jinn."
"Sorry. My interest in touching Padawans begins and ends with
you."
"And certainly, there are speculations about size." Obi-Wan
eyes had gone from stormy to light again.
"Master of Wardrobe despairs of me," Qui-Gon said sadly. "My
boots are custom made, and when I was 16 I had 12 different
robes because I grew so much in one year."
Obi-Wan's hand drifted down over ribs, stomach, abdomen, to his
cock. "Not what they speculate about, Master Jinn."
"I am not your Master, Obi-Wan. You can call me anything you
want, as long as you. . ." he took a deep breath as Obi-Wan's
hand encircled him and began to gently stroke, "don't stop. .
."
"Actually," Obi-Wan said, "I think I'll remain mute on that
one. I'm not sure I'll like being lovers with a legend. There
will be jealousy enough without telling the truth on this
subject."
"So kind." Qui-Gon spread his legs, and Obi-Wan's hand went to
cup the sac there.
"That is. . ." Obi-Wan hesitated, "I'm making an assumption
here, aren't I?"
"Only if you're assuming your free time will be spent anywhere
other than with me." Qui-Gon smiled at him, "If that's where
you want to be. If not, don't."
That easy?
Your decision. Qui-Gon wondered if he could stand it if
Obi-Wan decided to leave. He couldn't help what the Padawans
said about him, he was only himself, with graying hair and too
many responsibilities for too long. Not really a good prospect
for the future.
"Sampris Daa is my Master. I'm happy with him and he's an
excellent Master." He said it with quiet, firm loyalty.
"Sam can put you through every kata in the book and make you
learn quantum physics as well. Obi-Wan, I don't want that kind
of relationship. In fact, I'm not sure you should have any
relationship with me at all. I'm gone almost all the time.
You're gone almost all the time with Sam." He stopped,
breathing faster as Obi-Wan continued his slow strokes.
Obi-Wan leaned in and kissed him, hard, then said against his
lips, "Will you wait for me?"
"I imagine so."
"We still have two weeks. But I know already. I belong to you,
don't I? You belong to me. Suddenly, I can't imagine my life
without you."
"You are driving me crazy, Padawan Kenobi."
All innocence, "Am I?"
Qui-Gon pulled him closer. "Two hours until practice. What do
you think?"
"I think I'll be very bad at it today," Obi-Wan was kissing him
again, nibbling at his lips. "Gods, I love your mouth."
"No sleep, no high bars today."
"I'll tell my Master. He'll lecture you."
"I'll survive."
"The great Qui-Gon Jinn will survive." Obi-Wan gently bit
Qui-Gon's lip. "Maybe being your lover won't be so bad after
all."
Archive 