Warnings/Notes: Will eventually contain an NC-17 graphic m/m
scene. Hopefully more than one if I get in the right mood.
Summary: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are sent to a planet where strange
customs prevail.
The twin suns had not yet cast their bright light over the
hills of Genoa when Qui-Gon Jinn awoke. He slipped off warm,
sleepy, comfort as easily as he would a cloak, his mind
immediately alert. His breathing remained regular and his body
perfectly still, staying true to his promise to let his young
Padawan sleep until dawn.
Said boy was currently snuggled tightly against his side, a
thoroughly annoying whistling sound coming from his slightly
opened mouth. A mouth which was leaving a damp patch of spittle
on Qui-Gon's sleeping tunic. Still, it was not his place to
begrudge the sleeping arrangements that the Genoans had kindly
provided for the pair as they worked to help the government
unravel the mystery of who was poisoning incoming shipments of
the life-giving Hakash root.
Sharing such close quarters with his Padawan merely reminded
Qui-Gon that it was becoming imperative that he have a talk
about the facts of life with the boy. Obi-Wan had been raised
in the Jedi Temple for his first 12 years, and was only now
truly beginning to understand parts of the underbelly of life:
greed, prejudice...lust.
Qui-Gon was increasingly aware that his young apprentice was
becoming a man, if not yet completely in mind, then definitely
in body. His lanky, slightly awkward, boy, composed mostly of
elbows and knees had grown into a tall, well-built young man,
right under his nose.
In years past when the pair had shared a bed, Qui-Gon had
secretly enjoyed waking up with Obi-Wan's lithe, warm, body
pressed close up to his chest, his life Force a comforting
presence so close to him. These days, when he awoke this early,
it was often to find something even warmer pressing most
insistently into his thigh. Yes, Qui-Gon realized that this was
a perfectly normal adolescent reaction, a completely
unconscious physical occurrence. The thing that disturbed him,
that occupied his thoughts on mornings such as these, was the
fact that it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to
keep his body from reacting in tandem.
Beside him, Obi-Wan sighed, the arm draped across Qui-Gon's
chest tightening convulsively, and he burrowed his head further
into his Master's side. The tiny exhalation of breath caused
Qui-Gon to raise the corner of his mouth in a tiny smile. In
moments like these, Obi-Wan seemed so young, so different from
the rebellious, and oftentimes contrary teenager who made
himself known in the waking hours.
As soon as the faintest rose light ray shone through the square
window, barely illuminating the small clay-walled room, Qui-Gon
took a deep breath, his chest puffing out as his lungs filled
with the thick morning air. Obi-Wan tensed, sensing his Master
awaken, then relaxed, hoping to feign sleep for a few more
precious minutes.
Qui-Gon schooled his features into a stern frown, yet was
truthfully amused by this morning routine.
"Padawan, it is dawn," he said quietly, yet firmly.
Silence.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon allowed a note of warning to enter his
voice.
A groan, a squeezing tight of the eyelids, then a sigh.
"Very well, Master. Still, I hold to my belief that sunrise
here comes abnormally early,"
Obi-Wan's voice was scratchy, heavy with vestiges of slumber,
and the vibration of his mouth, still touching Qui-Gon's side
sent a not-quite-unpleasant shiver through the elder Jedi
Knight.
Centring his thoughts, Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan's arm from his
chest, and rose from the lumpy hay mattress, gathering his
clothes. Obi-Wan continued stretching, cat-like on the bed, and
Qui-Gon carefully kept his eyes averted from the tempting sight
of the handsome young man's muscles rippling under his
nightshirt.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan vaulted off of the bed, somersaulting in the
air, and landing lightly beside his Master, a small smile
playing about his mouth.
"I'm up," he said.
"So I see. Now that you are up, feel free to fetch us some
breakfast," Qui-Gon retorted, tying his long hair back with a
leather tie.
"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan, pulling on his clothes, and began
searching under the wooden bed frame for his left sandal.
Without a word, Qui-Gon retrieved it from the far corner and
handed it to the boy.
Obi-Wan smiled rather sheepishly, slipped the shoe on, and
strode out the door.
It was less than a minute before the screaming began.
The sound of screaming, first a man and woman, then a whole
chorus of angry shouts fuelled Qui-Gon to run from his room
into the courtyard at top speed, hand wrapped tightly around
the hilt of his lightsabre. His hopes that the pandemonium
beginning exactly when Obi-Wan had left the room was merely a
coincidence, were dashed when he saw the large, angry, mob
gathering around his Padawan. Obi-Wan's eyes met his over the
heads of the Genoans, whose large, bobbing, antennae barely
pushed them over the five foot mark.
Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes were filled with confusion and
apprehension. He made no move to draw his lightsabre, for while
the Genoans were brandishing spears and a few blasters, they
seemed more outraged than homicidal.
Pushing his way through the mob, Qui-Gon reached his student's
side, and turned to the crowd.
"What is going on?" he demanded.
This was obviously the wrong thing to say, as the crowd
exploded in a cacophony of renewed sound and fury.
"I'm sorry, Master, I thought he was hurting her." Obi-Wan
pleaded softly, a faint blush tinging his fair cheeks.
Thinking that he must surely be losing his mind, Qui-Gon began
to ask what in the world his student could have possibly
managed to do in such a short time to warrant such a reaction,
when two figures made their way from the centre of the crowd
and stepped forward. Qui-Gon recognized them immediately as Lua
and Giam, the landlord and lady who owned the terrace where
Obi-Wan and himself had been staying. Both were obviously
naked, wrapped in what looked to be bed sheets, and both were
flustered and flushed. Noticing the rapidly darkening bruise on
Lua's cheek, Qui-Gon suppressed a groan, realizing what his
young apprentice must have done.
While weighing the options of fleeing the mob and making their
way to the consulate, Qui-Gon was relieved to notice the High
Chancellor parting the crowd, waddling up to the pair with a
frown marring his smooth blue features.
"Ah, High Chancellor, it its good to see you. It seems that my
apprentice here inadvertently caused a bit of a scene. If we
may have a word with you, I'm sure that we can sort this out,"
said Qui-Gon in his most diplomatic voice.
"Of course, Jedi, we must rectify this situation immediately,
for inadvertent or not, a grave offense to the gods has taken
place."
Qui-Gon chanced a quick look towards Obi-Wan, who merely
shrugged, before the two followed the short figure down the
dusty street, while the mob continued its chattering, filling
in newcomers of whatever had transpired.
The High Consulate was a towering building of shimmering
marble, spiraled with silver. The doorways however, were better
suited to Genoan stature, and Qui-Gon had to duck to enter the
main chamber, with Obi-Wan following closely behind him. The
trio sat on velvet lined cushions as the Chancellors bodyguards
immediately flanked their sovereign.
Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan gently touched their foreheads, eyes,
mouths, and ears with their fingertips as a sign of respect
before addressing the Chancellor.
"Now, your Highness, I must admit that I was not present when
this situation arose, and I am not completely sure as to what
happened," began Qui-Gon.
"Perhaps you should ask your student that," said the High
Chancellor, an accusatory, almost sarcastic tone lacing his
voice.
Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow and waited for his student to begin,
pleased that he could feel the boy's quick rise of anger
dissipate in a heart beat.
Obi-Wan took a breath, and in cultured, neutral tones, said, "I
left our room as I was instructed, and planned on seeking out
our hosts to inquire about breakfast. I found them in the
courtyard, on top of the stone altar in the middle of the
square. Lua was...on top of his wife, holding her down...she
was screaming, I thought she was hurt."
Though seeing his student battling his rising embarrassment,
Qui-Gon motioned for him to continue.
"There were many people, standing close to the houses, not
making any move to stop him. I honestly thought that Giam was
in danger. I grabbed Lua's arm and hit him. Giam was yelling
for me to stop, and that was when everyone rushed up to me. I
tried to apologize to Lua, but he and his wife disappeared into
the mob, presumably to find some more...modest attire for
themselves. I am truly sorry for the trouble I caused. If there
is anything that I can do to apologize for my actions, I gladly
shall." With that, he ducked his head in deference, and waited
for a response.
There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, the
Chancellor's blazing red eyes glaring through Obi-Wan, before
he spoke.
"I see that you truly know not what you did. As a result of
your violent, and thoughtless actions however, the entire city
shall go without fresh food for the day."
Obi-Wan's head jerked up quickly, his puzzled, uncomprehending
expression identical to Qui-Gon's.
"Excuse me Chancellor, but I'm afraid that we do not
understand. My student has apologized for his mistake, and I
give you my word that he will be reprimanded. If it is an issue
of virtue's protection, I feel I must point out that the couple
in question were conducting their relations in a most public
place. I do not see why an unfortunate mistake, obviously on
both parties' sides should punish the entire population of your
city," said Qui-Gon, with a rising feeling of apprehension as
to what his student had gotten them involved in.
The Chancellor glanced sidelong at his bodyguards, then at the
Jedi pair, seemingly now confused himself.
"I see that you know very little about the ways of our people,
Jedi. What your student interrupted was the sacred Je'tha. Our
daily ritual where seed is spilt on the altar for the Goddess
Ilyasha, so that we may be worthy to eat the food she bestows
upon us. We have already displeased her, as she has shown in
the poisoning of the Hakash root, and now, things will only
become worse. We called you here to help us, and now you have
only brought more suffering to our land."
"Is there no way that I may make amends, your Highness?" asked
Obi-Wan.
"The only way is to make an new offering to the Goddess.
Something strong enough to...Boy, how old are you?" asked the
Chancellor, with the look of a man with an idea.
Obi-Wan told him.
A smile spread across the Chancellor's round face, "And you
have not yet committed Pah're?"
"Excuse me?" asked Obi-Wan politely.
"You have not yet made love to another?" clarified the
Chancellor.
"With all due respect, your Highness, I don't see why that is
any business of yours," interrupted Qui-Gon, speaking softly,
yet with an underlying warning.
"It's all right, Master. No I have not," replied Obi-Wan
calmly, if a little cautiously.
"As I had hoped, though a little unexpected considering the
ways of the Jedi as I have heard them. If you truly wish to
help our people, the only way is to offer your Pah're to our
Goddess," explained the Chancellor.
Qui-Gon rose swiftly to his feet, grabbing his student by the
arm and dragging him up along with him. "I don't think I like
where you are heading, you Highness. I believe that my
apprentice and I shall take your leave now. We will arrange for
another team to be sent out to help with your situation, and we
will warn them against disturbing your...religious ceremonies."
Obi-Wan was surprised to feel the tiny seed of anger begin to
blossom in his Master's life Force. Qui-Gon was the most
controlled Knight he had ever encountered, and was ashamed at
his own feeling of pride that rose in him at the thought of
Qui-Gon defending his honour.
The bodyguards stepped forward, hands reaching for the blasters
holstered to their sides, as the Chancellor stood.
"I am afraid that your offering is the only way to get into the
Great Goddess' good favours again. If you do not cooperate, our
people will not be fed, and you will be responsible for their
deaths. I thought that the word of a Jedi was to be trusted,"
the Chancellor spoke harshly, deliberately trying to provoke
the young man.
Qui-Gon silently reached out with the Force to his young
Padawan along the bond they shared, lending him a calming
presence to help the boy reign in his temper. But the boy
surprised him by shrugging it off, squaring his shoulders, and
calmly staring the Chancellor directly in the eyes.
"All right, your Highness," replied Obi-Wan evenly, "I will do
it."
Qui-Gon relaxed his tensed muscles and calmed himself. Obi-Wan
chose the strangest times to act as a true Jedi, and by the
resolute set of his jaw, his Master could tell that it would
take much convincing to talk him out of this ridiculous idea.
Still, it would not do to show weakness in front of the High
Chancellor.
Putting on his most harmless face, he addressed the short
sovereign. "If you would excuse us a moment, I must have a
moment with my stud-"
But he was interrupted by Obi-Wan, who raised a hand and said,
"Just a minute, Master, first I would like to hear exactly what
this ceremony entails."
Obi-Wan knew full well that Qui-Gon would not reprimand him
before the Chancellor, and used that to buy himself some time
before his Master bombarded him with the thousands of reasons
why this was a bad idea. Truthfully, he was frightened of what
lie ahead, all the whispered rumours and dark innuendo he'd
heard in his life were running through his mind, but he
remained resolved that no Genoan should starve as a result of
his ignorant folly.
"Very well, young Jedi, you have made a most honourable
decision. May the Gods smile on you. Guards! Call for the
Diosys!" called the Chancellor, his voice echoing in the large,
stone room.
The room then fell silent, yet a most heated argument was
noiselessly communicated between the two Jedi. Qui-Gon sending
quite clear warnings his eyes flashing, while Obi-Wan stood his
ground, obstinate, his chin stuck out defiantly.
A soft rustling sound broke their gaze as the pair watched the
colourful procession of robed, young Genoans enter the room.
The only sound they made was from the hems of their long red
cloaks brushing against the marble floor as they floated inches
above the ground. The children were lined up two by two, led by
a large man, nearly six feet tall, immense for his species.
They stopped in front of the seated Chancellor, made their
ritualistic signs of respect, then waited, silent.
"There are two acceptable sacrifices which you may make to
appease the Goddess," began the Chancellor, leaving a pause for
the Diosys and his followers to softly whisper what was assumed
to be prayers. "Since you do not have a betrothed, you may
either allow your body to be taken by our most honourable
Diosys, or you may yourself be allowed to use the body of one
of his trainees to release your seed."
With that, he motioned to the child followers, each staring
into space, unhearing. They were all beautiful children, with
large eyes, and smooth blue skin. The oldest one looked barely
10 years old.
Qui-Gon watched his student's eyes roam over the Diosys, a
large, heavy-set man, who was openly leering back at the
handsome young man. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, carefully
schooled his features, and made the decision that Qui-Gon knew
was inevitable, yet dreaded just the same.
"I will allow the honourable Diosys use of my body to appease
your Goddess, if that is what it takes to feed your people,"
said Obi-Wan, wearing his dignity wrapped tightly around
himself.
"Very well, young Jedi. You are to meet the Diosys by the Altar
of Insah, before dawn tomorrow. You are to bathe first in the
essence of the Iala flower, which will be provided for you. On
behalf of the people of Genoa, we thank you," the Chancellor
announced, and dismissed the pair with a wave of his small,
seven-fingered hand.
As Qui-Gon left the chamber with his apprentice, he could
barely suppress a shudder at the way the Diosys' penetrating
gaze followed the younger Jedi.
Once the two had left the premises, Qui-Gon gripped his
Padawan's arm in a cast-iron grasp and pulled him into the
nearest alley. Obi-Wan was pushed against the wall, and Qui-Gon
used all of his energy to keep anger from rising up in his
heart and mind.
Keeping his voice level, the Jedi Knight spoke almost
pleasantly. "What exactly do you think you are doing, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan met his stare and calmly replied, "We have already
established that should I refuse, the people will be deprived
of food. Even if we were to appeal to the Council, it could
take weeks before any determinative action could be taken. If
you are referring to my choice of partners, however, you saw
how young those children were. I apologize, Master, if I am
being insolent, but I feel as if the Force is willing this. I
believe that I am doing the right thing."
Obi-Wan's words were brave, but Qui-Gon could sense the tiny
inkling of fear, a chink in his protective armour of the Force.
Though what he didn't know, was that his student now felt more
fear of disappointing his Master than of the act to which he
had committed himself.
"I too am sorry, Obi-Wan. You merely choose the worst times to
exercise your wisdom. I am used to having to deal with your
impetuous sense of justice. I still wish that there were some
other way. I do not like that Diosys. You...deserve someone
better for your first foray into the...pleasures of the flesh,"
admitted Qui-Gon, not daring to mention that he had secretly
hoped that it would someday be him.
Obi-Wan smiled a bitter little smile, and shook his head. "You
heard the Chancellor. My only other option lay in having a
betrothed. It is rather...pathetic that it took religious duty
to convince someone to lay with me. Though it really isn't all
that surprising, considering I could not even recognize
lovemaking, when it was literally right under my nose."
"...A betrothed..." Qui-Gon muttered in remembrance. "Stay
here," he ordered firmly, knowing full well that his apprentice
would be two steps behind.
He marched back to the Consulate, pushing his way past the
guards with some none-too-subtle manipulation of the Force. He
presented himself before the Chancellor, and staked his claim.
Following closely on his heels, the young Padawan stepped into
the chamber just in time to hear his Master announce himself
the betrothed of one Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Obi-Wan froze, certain that he had misheard his Master's words.
The idea that Qui-Gon would volunteer...of course. His Master
was only putting himself up to this indignity to spare him from
what he perceived as a worse experience with the Diosys. Though
what exactly was to transpire, Obi-Wan was still not completely
certain. He prepared to cut in, but as soon as he tried to
speak, he felt the Force emanating from his Master push him
back, keeping him silent and in place. Obi-Wan hated the
feeling, it was stifling, rather than the comforting, soothing
blanket of power that Qui-Gon usually wrapped around him.
Still in a daze, Obi-Wan mutely watched the Chancellor accept
Qui-Gon's claim, and the young Jedi then let himself be led out
of the Consulate by his Master's hand at his back. Only when
they had once again left the building, and stood blinking in
the morning sunlight, did Obi-Wan manage to find his voice.
"You had no need to do that, Master," he said quietly, trying
to keep the challenge out of his words.
"What makes you think I did not want to," replied Qui-Gon,
equally as quiet, as he strode away from his gaping student,
down the road, back towards their temporary dwelling. Obi-Wan
caught up to him, and as the two unconsciously fell into
perfect step with each other, he tried to think of the right
question to ask his Master that could dispel his confusion.
Before he could find the most accurate words, Qui-Gon
interrupted his thoughts, saying, "Forget this for the time
being. Instead, we must focus on the task that we were sent
here for. We will discuss the situation later." His tone was
firm, and Obi-Wan who had learned to choose his battles
carefully, did not try to argue.
The afternoon was spent examining records of all business
transactions relating to the importing of Hakash root from the
last 6 months. They worked in silence in the cool government
library, and did not speak to each other as they interviewed
local businessmen. They soon came to the obvious conclusion
that all dealers who had received the poisoned roots had
recently refused to pay "insurance money" to a notorious
mobster, a Hutt named Glug. The council was notified, and a
team closer to the Hutt's last known whereabouts were
dispatched. Obi-Wan was grateful that while they sat in their
room, speaking to the holographic image on Master Windu,
Qui-Gon made no mention of the morning's...other activities.
Qui-Gon bade the council member farewell, and the two sat
together on the bed, experiencing the first awkward silence
between them in years. The Jedi Knight was the first to speak.
"I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable, my Padawan."
While the words were simple, it served mostly as a signal to
Obi-Wan that the subject was now open for discussion.
Obi-Wan chose his words carefully. "I know that nothing I may
say would change your mind...however, I thought that you would
rather I go through this with someone else."
At his Master's confused look, he continued, "I mean that I
know from my training exercises that you do not like to cause
me pain. I do not understand why you feel that you must...do
this."
Qui-Gon looked contemplative. "How much do you actually know
about the act of sex?" he asked the young man gently.
"Only what little I saw and heard at the Jedi Temple when I was
younger. I know that some of the boys would...touch each
other...Once...once an older boy made a younger one lie with
him. The younger was in the infirmary for days, and eventually
had to be sent to the Agri-corps. The older boy was sent home."
Obi-Wan tried desperately not to shudder at the memory of
peering into the med-room and seeing the stark, red, blood
staining the white sheets.
Qui-Gon winced. No wonder the boy had shown no interest in
losing his virginity, at least in his waking hours. He searched
for the right words to explain the way lovemaking could truly
be, wishing that he had had the sense to have this discussion
with his student years ago.
"Obi-Wan, that is not the way that lovemaking should be. What
happened between the elder and younger boy was called rape. The
taking of another without consent, or concern for their
pleasure. I do not wish to rape you, so I must know if you will
truly be all right with us following through with the
ritual...together."
"Master, you know that I love you, and that I trust you more
than anyone else. I just feel that I am entering this with both
eyes shut...I do not know...anything." Obi-Wan had not felt so
young or naive for many years, but though he was lacking the
facts, his mind was beginning to correlate certain feelings,
urges: the strange times when he developed an erection, or when
he awoke with sticky sheets, the way he knew that somehow, the
way seeing his Master's smile could bring a flush to his face,
the way Qui-Gon's touch would sometimes make him feel strangely
tight between his legs, all might have something to do with
love beyond that of a Padawan for his teacher.
"Then you may ask me anything that you want, and if you do not
feel comfortable, then we shall find a way to get out of this,"
said Qui-Gon in the same reassuring tones that he used with his
student when he was still a child.
Obi-Wan gave great thought to what questions he wished to ask.
Being offered free information from a Master was not an
opportunity to be wasted, and the wrong query could only serve
to worsen the tension between the two.
Carefully, he began, "I have three questions. Firstly, what
does the...joining...between two men involve? Secondly, why
do...why do men do such a thing if it does not result in
reproduction as it does between man and woman? And thirdly,
what exactly did the Chancellor mean when he expressed surprise
that I have not yet experienced sex 'knowing the way of the
Jedi'?"
Qui-Gon nodded, and lay back on the bed, making himself
comfortable for what he knew would be a long explanation. He
was pleased when Obi-Wan settled beside him, resting his head
on Qui-Gon's shoulder. He was admittedly worried that working
through issues like these would drive a permanent wedge between
the two. Obi-Wan's comforting warmth gave him the strength to
approach this next step in their relationship.
"Very good questions. I will try to answer them to the best of
my ability. Firstly, there are three ways that men can make
love. The first is by stoking each other between the legs, as
you mentioned your fellow students doing. The second is by
taking each other's penis into their mouths." He paused at
Obi-Wan's confused look. Continuing without blushing was
difficult, as he was unused to verbalizing such acts.
"If someone takes a man's penis into their mouth...and kisses
it, or suckles it gently, it may cause...pleasurable feelings
for the man. The third way is for one man to enter the other.
Do you understand what I mean by that?"
Obi-Wan nodded, his cheeks flushed, as he unconsciously
clenched his buttocks.
"Now, if this act is done properly, both of the men experience
pleasure, and very little pain. The reason your classmate was
hurt, was because the boy that penetrated him did not use
proper lubrication. If the channel is lubricated, there is less
friction, and there should be no bleeding."
"Your second question is a little more difficult to answer.
There are different reasons that men lie together. Some do it
merely to experience the physical responses that are very
pleasurable, but that is not true lovemaking. Lovemaking...is
just that, the creation of love. It is loving another enough to
want to give them pleasure, and trusting them enough to do the
same for you. It is...wanting to give over everything that you
are to another. It is very hard to communicate..."
Obi-Wan softly cut in, "That part I believe I understand,
Master." He shifted his head against his teacher's shoulder,
the fine spikes of his sandy hair softly brushing against
Qui-Gon's bearded cheek.
Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice's warm love flow over him
through their soul-link, and for just a second thought he could
feel a spark of desire flash on Obi-Wan's part. At first he
passed it off for wishful thinking, but as he let his mind rove
along their shared stream of consciousness he began to feel a
deep sense of realization, of understanding, of acceptance. A
smile graced Qui-Gon's face as he sensed the Force drawing them
together.
"Yes, I believe you do, Obi-Wan. And so this leads me to my
third answer. The Chancellor was referring to the fact that the
love between Master and Padawan may sometimes grow so strong
that the two begin a more physical relationship."
"I see...and you did not see fit to tell me this because..."
asked Obi-Wan.
"I was waiting for the right moment, the perfect moment I
suppose. I must admit that I oftentimes do not realize that you
are indeed a man."
"If I may ask a fourth question, Master?"
Qui-Gon nodded, and waited as Obi-Wan worked through his
gnawing apprehension.
"If I had not gotten us into this...public display, would you
have someday approached me about this?"
"No," said Qui-Gon, and felt every muscle in his student's body
tense, the link between them suddenly snapping shut. Before
Obi-Wan could get up, the older man touched his cheek softly,
and continued.
"You would have come to me. You were always too bold for your
own good," he said fondly, his heart melting at the sight of
the beautiful smile lighting up his student's handsome face.
"Now, if I may ask you a question," Qui-Gon asked, "have you
ever touched yourself...to bring yourself pleasure?"
Obi-Wan's face turned bright scarlet, a mixture of puritanical
shock, and embarrassment at the physical stirrings in those
words from his Master's lips caused in his trousers.
"...Yes, but not often. I...the feeling was strange. It felt
like the Force rose so strongly in me that I could not control
it...I felt as if I were being swept away by a giant tidal
wave...I do not know how to explain it. I did not know if it
were normal..."
Qui-Gon nodded. "And who did you think of, those times you did
pleasure yourself?"
A delicious shiver passed through Obi-Wan with those words.
Qui-Gon's voice was low, hypnotic, making Obi-Wan feel relaxed,
yet full of lightning at the same time.
"You, Master," he replied, truthfully, wincing as his voice
cracked.
A devilish grin settled on Qui-Gon's face as he leaned down to
whisper in his apprentice's ear, his breath tickling the tiny
curled hairs on Obi-Wan's neck.
"Show me."
Biting his lip, Obi-Wan looked at his Master uncertainly. He
suddenly looked so heartbreakingly young that Qui-Gon almost
felt like a corrupting force, a dirty old man. Then, his
Padawan apparently reached some inner decision, and he grinned
a truly wicked grin, an almost feral light shining in his eyes.
He sat up and unbelted his heavy, brown, cloak, slipping his
arms from the oversized sleeves, and letting it fall back onto
the bed. Then, he kicked off his sandals, sending them flying
to opposite corners of the room while Qui-Gon watched him
intently.
His Master's scrutiny did not make him feel anxious, but rather
empowered Obi-Wan with a feeling of authority that he had never
experienced before. He was amazed at how quickly the older
man's breath quickened as his hand strayed towards his shirt
hem. He slipped the worn cotton shirt over his head, curious
when his nipples contracted tightly, dry, as if he were cold,
though the room was filled with warm evening air with nary a
breeze.
Obi-Wan looked over at his teacher, noting with wonder the way
his endlessly black pupils had dilated until barely a sliver of
blue iris was visible, like a solar eclipse...he could almost
see the fire burning behind them.
Qui-Gon said not a word, his eyes drawn magnetically to the
sizeable erection tenting Obi-Wan's white cotton trousers. Yes,
his apprentice had grown into a man indeed...
The young Jedi hooked his thumbs under his waistband and slowly
tugged his pants down over his slim hips, lifting his buttocks
off of the bed to work the trousers down his thighs, squirming
to get them to his knees, then wiggling them off from around
his ankles.
Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat, as he watched this
lovely young creature, writhing so seductively beside him. The
play of taut muscles under fair, lightly sun-kissed skin filled
him with a wave of sweet lust with a molten center of love.
Trailing his left hand slowly down his chest, Obi-Wan teased
first one nipple, then the other, incredulous as to how
sensitized his entire body was to every caress, the best being
the gentle touch of his Master's gaze on his naked skin. For
the first time in his entire life, Obi-Wan felt truly
attractive.
Sensing his student's thoughts, Qui-Gon whispered, "You are
beautiful, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan smiled, moving his hand down his stomach, and closed
his eyes, but opened them again when he felt callused
fingertips brush gently against his eyelids. He gazed up to see
his Master lying on his side, leaning slightly over him,
staring at him intensely.
Qui-Gon took hold of Obi-Wan's hand, and brought it up to his
lips. He brushed his lips softly over the knuckles, taking each
finger into his mouth in turn, working them in and out, then
turned the hand palm-up, letting the work-worn hand stroke his
short beard. Breathing hotly against the broad palm, he stuck
out his tongue and laved its surface with broad strokes.
Obi-Wan moaned deep in his throat, the hot, wet, feeling
against his hand causing his already rock-hard penis to twitch
spasmodically. Over again the pink tongue darted out from
between those sensuous lips, and wetted his skin, until his
entire palm was dampened with saliva. Qui-Gon then grasped his
apprentice's wrist, and moved the wet hand down to Obi-Wan's
impressive erection, positioning the fingers so that they were
firmly wrapped around the shaft.
Obi-Wan experimentally stroked his cock, relishing the new
sensation of his hand gliding so smoothly over the sensitive
skin. Qui-Gon's hair brushing against his shoulder, rapid, hot,
breath warming his cheek, just knowing that the man he loved
was here with him, heightened the experience a thousand times
fold.
Building up a slow rhythm of strokes, Obi-Wan noticed for the
first time, the contrasting textures of the skin on his penis
that he never noticed during his previous secret, stolen,
moments conducted quickly and guiltily under the covers. The
ridge of slightly hardened epidermis around the rim of his
foreskin, the rosepetal softness of his cock's underside, all
seemed wholly new and mesmerizing.
Suddenly, every nerve ending in his entire body seemed to focus
in on his right ear, where Qui-Gon's mouth had descended,
tracing the delicately spiraling cartilage, and thrusting his
tongue into the canal. His heavy breathing echoed deep into his
hearing, but did not even begin to penetrate his consciousness
which was shrouded in a pleasure-thick haze. Qui-Gon's sharp
front teeth bit firmly into his earlobe, causing the younger
man to cry out and tighten his fist around his cock.
"Oh, Master," he moaned, and spellbound Qui-Gon, who was using
every calming trick he knew to keep himself from throwing
himself on this innocent, touching himself so wantonly.
Qui-Gon cradled his student's head and turned his face for
their mouths to meet. He licked Obi-Wan's sultry lips until
they parted, their breathing, though erratic, was perfectly in
synch.
Obi-Wan's hand kept its steady rhythm as his Master parted his
lips, slipping his tongue deep into the warm cavern of his
mouth. Their tongues met, touched, parried, dancing in mock
battle, a perfect parody of their training exercises. Both
forgot about breathing, the sensation of touch the only thing
they needed to stay alive.
His hips rising off the bed in frantic thrusts, Obi-Wan's mind
was lost in a swirl of sense, inner and outer, his thoughts
travelling up the soul-deep river that bonded him to his
Master. He felt as if every single spark of energy in his and
Qui-Gon's bodies had disassembled and rejoined as one single
entity. The hot tickling twisting lips on his own, his slick
palm making a tight channel for his cock, were both secondary
to the amazing feeling of his heartbeat becoming one with
Qui-Gon's.
Teeth clashing, pressing against his mouth, bruised Obi-Wan's
lips. His short, animalistic cries were muffled as they echoed
into Qui-Gon's mouth. His hips had a mind of their own, pushing
out, desperately seeking more contact, harder, rougher. He felt
his testicles tighten hotly, a raging volcanic wave beginning
in his groin and spreading over every inch of his flesh.
With his free hand, Obi-Wan grabbed hold of his Master's face,
pressing their mouths closer together, trying to meld their
bodies into one, trying to hold on to this marvelous feeling.
For a second, he felt completely one with Qui-Gon, one with the
Force.
Qui-Gon, the epitome of self-control compared to his student's
wild thrashing, lightly licked the roof of Obi-Wan's mouth,
then pulled his tongue back before the younger man bit down
hard as he came. Thick bursts of pearly cream splashed onto
Obi-Wan's tautened stomach, his entire body shaking madly in
the throes of orgasm.
And Qui-Gon Jinn smiled.
Still shaking, his mind working in hyperdrive to process and
catalogue all these new sensations, Obi-Wan instinctively
shifted and wrapped his limbs tightly around his Master's
still-clothed body. Qui-Gon held him close, his strong hands
rubbing his student's bare back in soothing circles, while he
manipulated the Force to create a warming blanket of comfort
over the young man, as he had done a hundred times before.
Obi-Wan melted, suddenly boneless at his teacher's touch. It
was reminiscent of the healing he had received on numerous
occasions when sick or hurt as a child, yet now it took on a
most erotic turn. Everything felt different now, his Master's
mind completely open to him, floating a feeling of deep
satisfaction that matched Obi-Wan's own. This changed
everything. A stray childhood memory, whether from his or
Qui-Gon's mind he was not sure, rose to the surface of their
thoughts. Flow with change, a Jedi must.
Qui-Gon's body shook in silent mirth, and asked, "Should I be
insulted that two minutes after orgasm; lying in my arms, you
cannot help but think of Master Yoda. Is there perhaps
something you would like to tell me?" he trailed off teasingly.
Obi-Wan chuckled, feeling much too drained to think of a
suitably witty retort that would not be disrespectful towards
the ancient Jedi Councilman. Suddenly, a thought arose in his
mind. He could not believe that he had been this selfish.
"Master, I apologize. I have taken my pleasure, yet offered you
none. How can I..."
Qui-Gon silenced him with a swift mental command, and gazed at
him rather sternly. "Obi-Wan, listen to me closely...Where you
find pleasure, so do I. You are my Padawan; it is my duty to
care for you, not the other way around. You must never feel as
if you need to service me to win my approval, I..." Qui-Gon's
voice almost cracked, and he quickly closed off a channel of
their link.
Obi-Wan was confused and hurt at his Master's sudden
withdrawal, trying not to wince at the almost-physical pain. As
he caught the dissolving tendrils of Qui-Gon's thought in his
mind, his gut knotted at the twisting, bleeding memories.
Master...please...
It hurts, please stop.
I am sorry Master, I will not cry next time.
No, stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Please.
The child's voice that Obi-Wan heard was a tiny, frightened,
echo of his Master's strong, deep, even tones that were so
often his anchor.
He tightened his arms around the elder Jedi, and cautiously
sent out a small wave of healing energy, healing not of the
body, but of the soul. Smiling as his Master accepted his
offering, Obi-Wan chose his next words most carefully.
"Yes, I am your Padawan, but you are also my Master. We care
for each other. Together, we are more than we are apart.
Perhaps so as the Force has brought us together, it will also
continue to guide us through...this...rather, if you want to
continue this after tomorrow...I did not mean to presume..."
Qui-Gon silently sighed. His pupil often took the Jedi traits
of modesty and humility to an extreme. The last thing he wished
was to instill vanity into the boy, but Obi-Wan needed to have
his eyes opened to the truth.
"Padawan, you speak wise words, but you do not see the most
simple things. I meant it when I said that you are beautiful.
Do you doubt my word?"
Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan shake his head against his chest. He
quickly continued, not giving his student the chance to
interrupt.
"Tomorrow, when we give ourselves over to each other, all the
people of the city will be wondering who that lucky old Jedi
is. The one who is bonded with the beautiful young man willing
to make such a noble sacrifice for them," he finished softly,
gently stroking Obi-Wan's smooth unbearded cheek.
"And if I make a complete ass of myself again, we will have all
the more reason to practice," he deadpanned.
Qui-Gon smiled tenderly down at his student, and said fondly,
"We may practice as long as you wish."
"Then we shall practice forever," declared Obi-Wan firmly, in a
perfect imitation of his Master's no-nonsense voice.
Qui-Gon said nothing. Instead, he kissed the boy's temple,
inhaling his soft desert-scent, and as they drifted off into
slumber, allowed himself to believe his student's words true.
The oval moon made its way across the sky as the pair slept
deeply on. All traces of apprehension or anxiety disappeared as
they lay together, their life Forces twining and mating, even
as their bodies remained chaste.
Qui-Gon awoke a full hour before dawn, and lay listening to his
Padawan's gentle breathing, and wondered whether he had made
the right choice in tarnishing the boy's innocence the night
before. Involving sex in a teacher/student relationship was a
delicate matter. Either the bond would hold true and he could
prove himself the kind of man deserving of Obi-Wan's love, or
the conflict would rise as with Xanatos...or Illyais.
Burying his memories of his failed protege, and of his first
master, Qui-Gon returned his careful consideration back to his
slumbering student. The only moments when Obi-Wan had seemed
unhappy were when he was in doubt of Qui-Gon's intentions. The
look of pure rapture that had shone on his Padawan's
seat-soaked face at the moment of climax could not have been
faked. Surely the Force willed this union. Both Master and
Padawan had stared unblinking into the other's soul and had
merged so completely...
"Master?" Obi-Wan's sleepy voice cut through the silence,
lifting Qui-Gon out of his reverie.
Chiding himself for allowing his mind to wander so far as to
miss his student's awakening. This morning, however, Qui-Gon
tried to attain some levity before his pupil apologized for
startling him.
"Can it be? The notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi awakens before
sunrise. I should contact the Council at once," the Knight said
dryly.
"How I laugh," replied Obi-Wan, stretching full-bodied, making
a cat-like sound in his throat as his muscles flexed.
Qui-Gon stood, stretched briefly, and dressed, appreciating the
tempting display of flesh twisting on the bed. Obi-Wan looked
up and met his gaze, smiling reassuringly, then quickly covered
his mouth as he yawned hugely.
Suddenly, the pair both stiffened, sensing a presence outside
their door. With feather-soft footsteps, they retrieved their
respective lightsabres from under the bed, and flanked the
door. Qui-Gon reached out and grasped the doorhandle, flinging
it open--
Nothing.
Qui-Gon's gaze dropped down, out of habit of looking down on
account of the Genoan's small statures, and consequently spied
the small wooden basket sitting on the doorstep. Upon closer
inspection, the basket was found to contain the essential oils
they were to bathe in before the ceremony, along with a small
bottle of a thicker, unscented liquid that he assumed was meant
for lubrication.
Qui-Gon let a warm flush wash over him at the thought of
entering Obi-Wan's body fully. To be completely sheathed in
that shattering heat...
Obi-Wan had begun to unscrew each of the caps from the small
bottles, inhaling some fragrances deeply, and wrinkling his
nose in distaste at others.
Qui-Gon bade Obi-Wan to fill the bathtub in the tiny bathroom,
and when he had done so, proceeded to bathe his apprentice as
he had only done when Obi-Wan was ill or injured.
Even the rough scrap of washcloth seemed sensuous to Obi-Wan,
when wielded by his Master. Slipping and sliding the sweet
smelling oil over every inch of his body quickly aroused the
younger man, but his Master was resolute that he was to wait
for the ceremony.
Achingly hard, Obi-Wan rose from the bath once his Master was
done cleaning him, and was immediately dismissed into the
bedroom while Qui-Gon washed himself.
Lying on the mattress completely naked in the early-morning
humidity, Obi-Wan carefully centered his homeopathy,
controlling his base physical responses. By the time Qui-Gon
emerged from the bathroom dressed only in a scant towel, all of
Obi-Wan's concentration was proved to be in vain.
Qui-Gon tactfully did not draw attention to his student's
eagerness, but picked up their cloaks from where they were
folded on the floor, allowing the towel to slip from his hips
and giving Obi-Wan quite an eyeful.
"Since we were given no instructions as to what attire is
appropriate, I believe we may at least wear these into the
square," Qui-Gon reasoned aloud.
Obi-Wan nodded and slipped on the heavy brown cloak. The
smooth, yet heavy feeling against his bare skin was quite odd,
and strangely exciting. Still, he did not let any emotion
beyond calm acceptance show on his face. While he was
undoubtedly aroused by the idea of making love to his Master,
the thought of messing up yet again in front of all of those
people brought surges of nervous energy to his stomach and
wrists.
He belted his cloak, and standing, headed for the door. A heavy
hand rested on his shoulder, and squeezed firmly. Qui-Gon spoke
quietly into his ear.
"If at any time, you wish for us to stop, just tell me, and we
will. No arguments, all right?"
Obi-Wan nodded, and saw Qui-Gon pocket the little bottle of
lubricant, before he was drawn into a deep kiss. The younger
man was pushed against the heavy wooden doorframe, as the
insides of his lips were carefully traced by his Master's
exploring tongue. He pushed his own tongue into Qui-Gon's hot
mouth, cataloguing the sharp teeth, and lightly tickling the
sensitive roof and cheeks.
Qui-Gon was the first to pull back, breathing heavily, and a
little wild-eyed. Grasping his Padawan's hand in his tightly,
they entered the courtyard, and made their way towards the
large, green, stone altar, carved with the images of a naked
bodies revelling.
The Genoan people kept a respectable distance, staying in their
doorways, but the pair could still feel their gazes boring into
them. Qui-Gon spied the High Consulate, and his religious
entourage, including a scowling Diosys, and received a nod
signaling for them to go ahead. There was no chanting, no song,
just the primal heartbeat, and the celebration of the most
basic of instincts.
Obi-Wan sat on the altar, swinging his legs up, them laying
back. His hands went to his waist where he untied his cloak,
allowing it to fall open. He then arched his neck back, and
closed his eyes; the first rays of light beginning to glint off
of his honey coloured hair. He would have looked every inch the
martyr if it weren't for the teasing smile playing around the
corners of his mouth.
Standing over this apparition in the daylight, Qui-Gon likewise
disrobed, standing for a moment, watching his apprentice drink
in the sight of him like a parched man in the desert. Then, he
lowered himself over his Padawan, the heated feeling of hot
skin on skin causing them both to gasp.
Obi-Wan's glanced nervously at the red eyes watching them from
the shadows. Qui-Gon reached back and pulled his heavy mass of
hair over his shoulders, allowing it to fall like a curtain
around his and his student's faces, odd bits of light forming a
shadowy cocoon.
"You see, my Padawan. It is just you and I," he whispered
gently.
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