Saints and Seekers

by Telanu (thezzalot@yahoo.com)

Archive: Yes to M/A and my page, Till Human Voices Wake Us; others, please ask

Category: Alternate Universe, Angst, Romance

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: for Jedi Apprentice, especially "The Hidden Past" (though this should still make sense even if you haven't read the JA books)

Summary: After being knighted, Obi-Wan seeks out Qui-Gon. Final story in "Substitutions" series.

Feedback: Oh, yes. Yes. YES!!!

It appears I have bowed to convention and utilized REPENTANT!QUI-GON and CARINGSLUT!OBI-WAN to the best of my ability. Hope you're happy, Mre, and remember: Sex Fixes Everything. Apologies to all who wanted a lot more angst than they're getting, but Qui and Obi were quite insistent that things get happier. Besides, I have to start thinking of a fic for TOTO.

Dedicated to my dear friend, the lovely Rain Maiden, who has made my life good in so many ways. That is, if she wants it.

(Disclaimer: Characters property of Lucasfilm.)

The smell of burnt hair lay heavy in the air. Obi-Wan tried not to crinkle his nose as Yoda's tiny lightsaber, set on low power, sliced through his Padawan braid at the root, making him a Jedi Knight in appearance as well as name.

"Proud I am of you, my Padawan," Yoda said gravely. "Much pain and adversity have you faced; yet overcome it all you have to reach this level. Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the Council does." The words were traditional, though none of the actual Council were, in fact, present. Obi-Wan found he could only be very grateful for this.

Obi-Wan bowed low, noting how strange it felt not to see his braid swing forward as he did so. "My gratitude to my Master and to the Masters of the Council." The words did not stick in his throat as he expected them to; after all, in his mind he addressed not Yoda as his Master but the one who had left him almost a year ago. Not that that particular saga was concluded, he thought fiercely. Not by a long shot.

"Tradition allows a new-made Knight to select first mission," Yoda intoned. "Seen the rosters you have; where will you go, Knight Kenobi?"

Again Obi-Wan bowed low. "As you have said, Master, this past year has been a difficult one for me, and not without its trials. I would respectfully request a time for shalan."

Yoda's ears drooped downward briefly. Shalan was a rare request, and one made only in times of great need for personal reflection. It was a kind of quest, taken up to resolve personal business and not abandoned until peace, or the desired resolution, had been found. "Seek Qui-Gon Jinn, you would," he said flatly.

The young Knight swallowed hard. Ever since Qui-Gon had left...no, fled the Order, Yoda had been absolutely intractable on the subject. Jinn was not to be sought or contacted for any reason, but forgotten insofar as was possible. He had disgraced himself, his former Master, and had hurt his Padawan. Obi-Wan knew, though he would never dare say so, that this was due more to Yoda's personal pain over the fall of his beloved student than any strict rule of the Order itself.

"Master," he began.

"Know my views on this subject, you do."

"Yes, Master Yoda," he said as calmly as he could. "And I understand them. But please try to understand mine. During this past year, Master Jinn has not once been out of my thoughts. I have meditated and sought counseling, to no avail, as you know. I must find him. I must speak with him. To find out what truly happened between us. Master Yoda, I...I will never find peace if I do not..." if I do not hold him in my arms again and beg his forgiveness and give him mine.

Yoda's ears lowered again. "Thought yourself very clever, you did," he said, "but know I do that sought him you already have during this year. Hoped to track his movements."

Obi-Wan bowed again, cheeks flushing. "I did, Master," he said humbly. "I have done as best I can, and I know the way he thinks; I have some idea of where he has gone, I think."

"Where?" Yoda asked, as though disinterested.

Obi-Wan hesitated, but of course to lie to Yoda was unthinkable. "I believe he went first to Bandomeer; but then he left for Fal-A'noth Sheth, a...a place that has meaning for us both. He has since left that world but I know he remains in that system. Our...our bond has not totally disintegrated." Because I rather would have sabered off both arms than let it. "With its remnants I believe I can locate--"

"Not in that system, is he."

"...Uh?"

"On Phindar, he is." Yoda poked around in the inner folds of his robes and produced a datapad. "Shalan you are granted, Knight Kenobi. Grant you your privacy, the Council does. Report to us, you will, when your business is completed and paid your debts are." He tapped his gimmer stick emphatically on the ground and stomped off.

Obi-Wan stared after the tiny Master until he'd disappeared from sight, aware that his mouth was open but not caring enough to do anything about it. That damned--he immediately broke off the train of thought before some passerby could hear it. (Only in the Temple, he mused ruefully, did one have to worry about things like that.) Then he shut his mouth and looked at the small datapad--one of Yoda's own and sized for his fingers.

Phindar, indeed. According to Yoda's tracings, which Obi-Wan was sure were totally accurate, Qui-Gon had indeed left the Temple and headed immediately for Bandomeer, then Fal-An'oth Sheth, plus another world Obi-Wan didn't recognize. Where the hell was Dagobah, and what was so special about it? At any rate, it was a long way out of the flight path Qui-Gon would have followed from Fal-An'oth Sheth to Phindar. How strange.

He grinned. He'd just have to ask his former Master about that. When he saw him.

Two weeks later, Obi-Wan was beginning to doubt his own abilities to do just that. It had taken only five days to arrive on Phindar, and when his ship had docked he'd scarcely recognized the place. The markets, once so barren of goods, were bustling today and the citizens chatted peaceably among themselves. He got a few glances as he strolled around the place, some raised eyebrows as people recognized him for a Jedi, but he found no answers when he asked if another Jedi might be found on this world.

He'd been careful, cloaking himself in adamantine mental shields since entering hyperspace. Qui-Gon should not be able to tell he was here, and thus escape him, but by the same token he could not reach out along the weakened link to find his expatriate Master.

He even inquired as to the whereabouts of Paxxi and Guerra, the twins he and Qui-Gon had befriended so many years ago on this planet, but this time was greeted coldly. It seemed the Derida brothers had not managed to reform themselves to any great degree. According to the few who actually answered him, they were in hiding--"And good riddance!" was always the invariable addendum.

He poked, he pried, he conversed and courted and ran his silver tongue for all it was worth, but to no avail. If he didn't hurry, Qui-Gon would soon realize he was here, shields or no. Sitting in his rented room and racking his brains, Obi-Wan realized he was running out of ideas. "If I were a guilt-ridden ex-Jedi," he murmured to himself, "where would I go? Not to Phindar, for a start." Yet Qui-Gon was here. And from what Obi-Wan could tell, he hadn't left yet. One of his first actions had been to hack discreetly into the port terminals into the flight records; Phindar was, for all its new prosperity, still an unfrequented planet and nobody had arrived or taken off since Obi-Wan had flown in. Which might, Obi-Wan mused, account for the lack of cooperation he had received. The Phindians were self-sufficient now and wary of offworlders, especially since the incident with Prince Beju and Gala...

Well. He was running out of time, and he really had no wish to track his errant Master to another world. Force knew, Yoda would be better at it anyway. Which was another question he wanted to have answered, but it could wait. Glancing out the window, the Knight saw that the sun was heading down towards the horizon and he hadn't eaten yet; the markets would close soon and he was hungry. With a heavy sigh, he gathered his cloak around him and trotted out the door.

It was the law of irony. Obi-Wan had been a-hunting night and day, probing everywhere he could gain access, even in the lesser government buildings, and had found no trace of Qui-Gon. So naturally he stumbled on the trail quite by accident while he was getting dinner. He was purchasing the least-suspicious-looking fruits he could find at a produce stand when he saw a sudden movement to his left. Glancing around instinctively, he saw a familiar shape, hunched over with long arms swinging, dash down an alley. Guerra, his mind cried, even though part of him protested that it was crazy, all bloody Phindians looked alike, but his legs had taken him running and he couldn't even hear the outraged cries of the fruit vendor over the blood roaring in his ears.

His mental shields were falling like water. The Force roared into him and guided him on until it seemed his feet weren't even touching the ground as he bore down on his quarry. Senses beyond taste, sight, touch and sound filled and expanded inside him and he welcomed them like an old friend, spinning out with all the energy he had until he could once again feel the faint bond with Qui-Gon. Through it he could sense sudden shock and alarm, but he could pay no mind to that, he had no time for it. He had to find Qui-Gon now, before he could escape.

He slammed into the hapless Phindian like a brick wall and they both went tumbling to the ground. His victim lost all the breath in his lungs, but Obi-Wan scarcely noticed the impact. Rather he bounced right back up, singing with unbelievably energy, his eyes blazing. He reached down and turned the Phindian to face him--and looked into very familiar eyes.

"Oh...bawan," Guerra managed.

Obi-Wan waited in a fever of impatience for Guerra to recover his breath, and then demanded that he be taken to Qui-Gon.

"I don't know what you are talking of, Obawan my friend," Guerra protested weakly. "I have not seen your friend, noble Jedi-Gon, since you were last here..."

"Not so, you lie," Obi-Wan said grimly. "The Force around you tastes of deceit."

Guerra looked at him slyly. "Oh, but did not my brave friend Obawan lie to me before about how his Force could protect him? So, you did!"

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't change the subject, Guerra. If anyone on this planet knows where Qui-Gon is, it's you. He wouldn't have anywhere else to go on Phindar--you were the only people he knew. You and Paxxi." He glanced around. "Take me to him. Now. And while we're walking," he overrode Guerra's feeble objections, "you can tell me why you and your brother are in hiding."

Guerra seemed ready to protest again, but one look at Obi-Wan's burning gaze and he relented. "Wise Jedi-Gon came to us a few weeks ago, so. I am sorry to have lied to you, Obawan. But when we mentioned you he refused to speak of you, and seemed so very sad we knew he did not want to see you. He has been hiding with us. "

"Which brings me back to my original question," Obi-Wan said dryly as he followed the Phindian through a maze of rapidly darkening alleys, mindful of keeping his senses awake. "Where are you and Paxxi now? And why hiding out? You must have known I was on-planet, at least. I wasn't very secretive about it."

"My friend is as wise as ever!" Guerra enthused. "Yes, so, we knew. Criminals we still are, Paxxi and I, but we have friends who tell us many things! Yet tell Jedi-Gon we did not," he added hurriedly. "We did not want to upset him."

"You couldn't have hidden that from Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said. "He'd know if you were hiding something."

Suddenly Guerra's face looked sad and quiet. "He might know, Obawan," he said dolefully, "but if he did, he did not seem to care. He never asks us questions. He hardly even speaks to us, but gives us money for our hospitality. Not that we asked him to, of course," Guerra added, looking a trifle guilty.

Obi-Wan's heart sank a little at that, but he buoyed himself up as well as he could. When he saw Qui-Gon they'd talk and everything would, somehow, be all right again. He had to believe that. The night was falling, he noticed distantly, and shivered a little. "I'll talk about that when I see him. Now tell me about you and Paxxi. When I left you were talking about running for governor."

Guerra snorted disdainfully. "That only happens in the children's stories, Obawan. I thought you were smarter than that. Paxxi and I are thieves and we always will be."

Trust Guerra to take pride in that. Obi-Wan decided he'd heard enough and began casting his eyes about their surroundings. They'd arrived in the poorest quarter of the city and it seemed things had not changed much here, at least. "I thought your economy was improving. Can nothing be done about this sector?"

Guerra led him down another winding, dark street. The few people out and about eyed them warily. "Nothing can be done for the poor, Obawan," he said sadly. "Those in power now...some are left over from the old Syndicat, and their number grows every year. They are more quiet about their crime than the Syndicat was, more subtle, but they steal from my people nevertheless. So very much harder to stop. Rule officially, you see."

Obi-Wan was disturbed at this, but as Guerra stopped in front of a door his sense of Qui-Gon abruptly intensified and he forgot all about it. Qui-Gon. His beloved Master was somewhere inside this...

....shack. Obi-Wan eyed the dilapidated building in disbelief. Surely no being of sense would even enter this place, let alone live in it? Guerra saw him looking and said quietly, "For some, times remain hard, friend Obawan."

He opened the door and Obi-Wan hesitantly followed him inside. When the roof didn't immediately collapse on his head, he relaxed somewhat and looked around, glad to notice two filled kettles hanging over a fire. At least his friends weren't starving to death. Guerra was so skinny it was hard to tell. Then he reached out with his Force-sense and it focused immediately on the hunched shape in the corner, almost invisible in the shadows of the dim room. No, not invisible--but deliberately obscured. On a closer look, the figure was not nearly as small as it appeared; it was obviously a large person, broad of shoulder, and male, despite the fact that the face was hidden by the hood of a brown cloak.

Who else?

Then Obi-Wan did something so strange that even he marveled at it. He turned to Guerra and said, "That stuff in the kettle smells marvelous. Mind if I stay for supper? I have rations of my own to even it out," and he produced the ill-gotten fruits from his tunic.

Guerra's jaw dropped, but he stammered, "Certainly, Obawan. But...but your friend--" he gestured weakly towards Qui-Gon in the corner, who had not yet moved, or even given any sign that he'd noticed Obi-Wan at all.

Obi-Wan glanced at him again and quelled the roiling in his stomach. This was such an unorthodox situation that he might as well use an unorthodox approach. "I don't think he's going anywhere. In fact, he's probably hungry too. And my wise Jedi Master, who shall remain nameless, once told me never to sacrifice the practical to the theoretical. Practically I'm hungry and theoretically he'll wait. So let's eat."

Guerra was still open-mouthed, but moved slowly to fill two bowls of some stew that smelled quite savory. "It is thanks to your friend that we have such good food," he offered somewhat timidly.

"Really? Pity he didn't get you into a decent house," Obi-Wan remarked and glanced into the corner again. Qui-Gon didn't move.

Guerra opened his mouth to protest and Obi-Wan quickly interrupted. "Where is Paxxi?"

"Out moving goods," Guerra muttered, and returned to ladling stew. "Will Jedi-Gon be so good as to move to table, please?"

Qui-Gon moved at last, rising slowly to his feet and going to the table with the air of one heading for his execution. Which he might well believe to be the case, Obi-Wan reflected. He still did not remove his hood from his face, and Obi-Wan could only see the smallest piece of bearded chin. Was he imagining it, or was the beard more silver than it had been before? This was getting quite ridiculous, he reflected irritably. If only life were simpler; then he could simply drag Qui-Gon into a closed room, prove in a most satisfying manner how much he'd missed him, and haul him the hell off this planet and back to Coruscant. If only.

Wish in one hand, shit in the other, and see which one fills up first, he reflected, and had to suppress a faint grin.

"Why do you call him 'Jedi-Gon?'" he asked aloud. Might as well keep probing for nerves and see if he could hit one. "He's not a Jedi, not anymore, you know. He left us."

Guerra looked a little desperate. "Yes, so we thought, but he will not speak of it, and it is such a hard habit to break...you cannot stop being a Jedi," he added as if that were merely another habit that was difficult to discard. "He will always be Jedi-Gon to us."

"What about to himself? That's what matters. Tell me, Qui-Gon," addressing his Master for the first time, "how do you see yourself?"

There was a moment of silence. Then the voice, which seemed much raspier than he remembered, rumbled, "I try not to," from underneath the hood.

Two plates of stew were laid before them. "I have, ah, remembered business," Guerra said. "Cannot stay, so sorry. Not so! I will be glad to be out of here," and fled the building without another word.

The two men fell to eating. Obi-Wan discovered, to his astonishment, that he actually was hungry and made an effort to banish the queasiness in his stomach. It helped that the stew tasted as good as it smelled. "I had no idea Guerra was such a chef," he remarked. "This is delicious."

"Why are you here?" Qui-Gon whispered, setting down his spoon after only one bite. "You sound so angry. I suppose you want to punish me? I can understand that."

"I refuse to address a man who hides behind a hood," Obi-Wan replied, astonished at the coldness of his own voice. "Look at me. I know you want to. Unless you've decided I'm not as beautiful as you once said I was."

Before he'd finished speaking the hood had come off, and the last words died in his throat as he stared into the blue eyes he'd dreamed of so often. For a moment he was so struck by their beauty that he didn't notice the fact that his Master's hair and beard were, in fact, much more silver, and his face was leaner and had more lines, and his skin was so pale that it looked almost gray.

When he did notice he was, naturally, appalled.

No longer feeling hungry, he said quietly, "I had to find you. Gods, Qui-Gon, I couldn't--" he broke off, unable to continue. "Will they care if we put this back in the kettle?"

"No," Qui-Gon replied tonelessly.

"Good," Obi-Wan said, and took the bowls, scraping their contents back into the kettle. "Is there a place around here we can walk and talk safely?"

"Did you bring your lightsaber?"

"Of course." And yours too, he didn't add.

"Then keep it in sight and we should be safe."

He followed his former Master out the door.

They went for a few blocks without saying anything, Obi-Wan glancing over periodically at Qui-Gon to make sure he wasn't dreaming. After a year of suffering, he was walking beside the man he'd missed so much and it wasn't anything like he'd expected, or hoped, it would be. Qui-Gon was far too quiet, too subdued, too beaten. He looked like he expected Obi-Wan to give the final blow at any moment.

Eventually Obi-Wan saw a staircase leading up the side of another building that looked both empty and stable. He tugged on Qui-Gon's sleeve. "Up here?" he asked softly. The older man glanced up and nodded, and they ascended the stairs until they stood on the roof of the building, looking across the city.

Obi-Wan sat down, dangling his feet over the edge. After a moment's hesitation, Qui-Gon did too. "This puts you in a vulnerable position," he said gently.

"I couldn't be any more vulnerable than I am now," Obi-Wan replied.

"Nor I." Qui-Gon looked at him again, and the young Knight trembled at the loneliness and hunger he saw in those lovely eyes. "You're Knighted, then. Recent?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied reflexively, and then winced as Qui-Gon did. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"It's a habit you should break. I'm a lot of things, but your Master is not one of them. Not now."

It hurt as much as if Qui-Gon had stabbed him. "I didn't come all this way so you could reject me again. Not when I know how you feel."

Qui-Gon laughed bitterly. "How I feel has never been in doubt. It's what I did with those feelings that matters. I'm sure Yoda demanded my head on a platter."

"He was angry, yes," Obi-Wan said. "Don't change the subject."

"Fine," Qui-Gon snapped. "Why are you here? You know I was trying to get away from you."

"That's why I'm here. I have no intention of letting you. This is sort of my first mission; I asked for shalan. I had to find you." He glared directly at the other man. "Do you have any conception of how the last year has been for me? All the people in the Temple, from the Council to the fucking janitorial staff looking at me in pity. The poor little Padawan who was abused and discarded by his evil Master. And nobody would even listen to me when I tried to tell the truth."

"That was the truth!" Qui-Gon cried in anguish, emotion showing through at last. "My actions were unpardonable--"

"I love you."

There was a pause; then, when it appeared Qui-Gon would not be able to speak anytime soon, Obi-Wan continued doggedly. "As I was saying, nobody, not even you, gave a damn what I thought about all of this. And I think that should have mattered, don't you? Even the soulhealer I had to see for a few months wouldn't believe anything but that you forced me. 'Don't make excuses for him, Obi-Wan, you don't have to anymore. It's time for you to heal now.'" He snorted. "That's what she always told me. And maybe it would be true for somebody younger who didn't know his own mind. But I'm almost twenty, Master. One of the youngest human Knights in history, and I think that speaks well for my maturity, don't you?"

Qui-Gon's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "I forced you--" he began weakly.

"And I was angry. At first. You know that. I certainly took it out on you," he said, blushing as he remembered the frantic way he'd taken Qui-Gon on the riverbank of his dreamscape. "And I'm to blame for that. I could have approached it in any number of different ways. I could have found one that wouldn't have driven us apart."

"Could you? I doubt it."

"You said if you'd sensed any reluctance in me, during my dream, you would have stopped."

"Well, yes, of course I..."

"So it wasn't rape. I consented. Even if I wasn't aware of it."

"You could not have truly consented if you were not aware of the situation," Qui-Gon pointed out.

Obi-Wan nodded, conceding the point. "But you would never have done it if you'd thought it would hurt me. That's what I'm saying. The only thing you did that really hurt me was to run away." He reached out and laid a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I won't let you run away again."

Qui-Gon looked amused at that. "And how will you stop me, Padawan? I have more money than you think. And I am a Master of the Force, Jedi or not. I can get away from you if I want."

"I'll follow you then. Even if it takes years. I swear it, Qui-Gon. I'll find you and keep you if it means I have to give up my Knighthood." He raised a hand over Qui-Gon's angry objection. "I brought you something," and produced the lightsaber from the folds of his tunic. "Had a hell of a time getting it by Yoda," he said. "He thinks it's been destroyed, but I kept it hidden all year. Waiting to give it back to you."

Qui-Gon stared at the weapon, and when he looked back at Obi-Wan his eyes were sad again. "I cannot accept it, Obi-Wan. I appreciate the thought, but I have left the Jedi. I mean that. I will never go back."

"The Order needs you."

"Really? You surprise me. I had not thought they wanted tainted Masters. And I find that I, certainly, do not need the Order."

"Really?" Obi-Wan asked, in his turn. He cocked his head. "Why did you go to Dagobah?"

Unaccountably, Qui-Gon blushed and turned away.

"I knew that had to be some sort of key," Obi-Wan continued. "It's the only planet you hit that we hadn't been to together. And I think you contacted Yoda there. How else would he know where you'd been when even I didn't?"

"It's his home planet," Qui-Gon muttered. "Strong in the Force. He usually goes on retreat there, but he must have skipped it this year...I had hoped to find him, speak to him at least...instead I called him. I had to find out how you were and what you were doing."

"What did he say?" Obi-Wan asked, more curious than anything else.

Recognizing this, Qui-Gon gave his first genuine smile of the evening, though it was poorer than his usual efforts. "He thought you were still suffering the effects of my 'abuse,' as he termed it, but your training was speeding along. He told me you would soon be Knighted, but I had no idea it would be quite this soon." He took a breath and continued in a slightly broken voice: "Obi-Wan, I missed you so. I would have crawled to him on my hands and knees just to hear someone else say your name."

Obi-Wan felt tears sting his eyes. Oh, now that was unfair, to say something like that and break his heart so badly he could not reply. It was some minutes before he was even able to clear his throat. "I'm here now," he whispered.

Qui-Gon looked at him for a long moment. "Yes. You are."

Obi-Wan, still bereft of words, leaned forward and kissed him. Qui-Gon did not respond, but sat perfectly still under the light touch of his lips, looking stunned when his former apprentice withdrew.

"If you are truly not Jedi," Obi-Wan breathed, "then why did you call me Padawan? Why did you go to Dagobah? Why did you let me find you?" He scootched closer and began to nuzzle the older man's throat.

Again, Qui-Gon did not move, except for a small tremble and the faint moan that vibrated its way into Obi-Wan's body. "I mean it, Obi-Wan. I...I love you with all that I am, but I will not return to the Order." He shuddered when Obi-Wan's arms enfolded him in a warm embrace and the younger man crawled into his lap. "Name of the Force, Obi-Wan, we're sitting on the edge of the roof--"

"Then you'd better hold me tightly," Obi-Wan murmured, dotting small, warm kisses all over his mentor's face. "You'd better not let me fall, hmm? Mmmm." He nuzzled luxuriously against Qui-Gon's wiry beard. "It's your choice whether or not to return to the Jedi, my love. But unless you can take back everything you said and tell me you don't love me," he nipped at an earlobe and felt Qui-Gon gasp, "I'll be with you."

"No...no. Please--" another gasp, "don't do this to me. Don't pin your life on me. I can't stand it!"

Obi-Wan pushed aside the shirt that was obstructing his mouth, bent and bit pretty hard at the collarbone, leaving a mark and relishing the resulting cry. He then proceeded to soothe the wound with gentle laps of just the tip of his tongue. "Can you stand this?" he murmured absently.

"Obi--" Qui-Gon, still clutching the younger man, was beginning to use his leverage to scootch them both back from the edge of the roof.

"Gods, you taste so good," Obi-Wan moaned suddenly, beginning to yank Qui-Gon's shirt off with real fervor. "In dreams...it's nothing like, not really...ohhhh," he moaned again, rubbing his cheek against the broad chest and inhaling deeply. "I've wanted this for so long...never stopped wanting this or you or anything..."

"Neither...did...I...b-but..."

Obi-Wan was having none of it. "Later, I swear we can talk later, please, I need you now. Missed you so much. Feel how much," and he shoved his cloth-covered erection against Qui-Gon's thigh. The older man moaned again, tilting his head back to stare at the night sky. "Now I want to hear someone else say my name. I want to hear you scream it at the top of your lungs while you're fucking me right here on the rooftop."

"No," Qui-Gon growled, and promptly flipped them so that Obi-Wan was lying flat on his back on the rooftop while Qui-Gon covered him with his body. Then, to Obi-Wan's dazed delight, he began to grind their still-clothed hips together. "Like this."

"But I want--"

"Later, idiot, no lube," Qui-Gon gasped by way of explanation, and bent and really kissed him. Really Kissed Him, and Obi-Wan's outraged protests died like mayflies in late afternoon. He shifted his hips up against his partner's, felt their cocks grinding together and moaned into that incredible mouth, which immediately responded by stroking a hot, slick tongue deep inside.

On instinct, Obi-Wan retested their bond and found that it was returning to its full strength with every passing second. Qui-Gon? he whispered.

...?...was the startled answer.

Qui-Gon! Obi-Wan replied in pure joy. Qui-Gon, I love this! I love you!

Qui-Gon didn't answer, but Obi-Wan felt him embrace the connection with his whole heart as he redoubled his attack on the young Knight's body. In no time at all, it seemed, Obi-Wan was bucking and gasping his release into the other man's mouth as warmth seeped through his trousers, and with a few more grunts and thrusts Qui-Gon echoed him. He didn't exactly howl Obi-Wan's name to the stars, but bent to the younger man's ear and moaned it so softly that Obi-Wan would later swear he came again from hearing it.

Then they lay together, clinging to each other and panting on the rooftop. Glazed eyes fixated on the spinning stars above, Obi-Wan carded his fingers slowly through the tumbled mane of Qui-Gon's hair as it tickled his neck and chin. "Hublungh," he finally managed.

"Yumph," Qui-Gon agreed and heaved himself off Obi-Wan with visible effort.

"Don't go," Obi-Wan said immediately, aware that if his former Master wished to he lacked the bones to stop him. "Please."

"Won't," Qui-Gon murmured. "Can't. Stars, I never stopped loving you." He dragged himself up to rest on his elbows, and looked into Obi-Wan's face. "I miss your braid."

"So do I," Obi-Wan said, grinning foolishly in relief and delight. "I guess I'll get used to it." Pause. "Don't ever cut your hair."

"Never intended to. This wasn't the brightest thing we could have done, you know."

"I think it was the only thing we could have done."

"Um, no, there are generally alternatives to wild sex on rooftops. Don't romanticize unnecessarily, my Padawan."

"Look who's talking," scoffed Obi-Wan. "Besides, this wasn't sex per se, this was public humping. I'm saving the sex for when I can get you naked into a comfortable bed. My ship has a nice big bunk," he quickly put a finger over Qui-Gon's mouth, "which will not take us back to Coruscant if you don't want to go." His eyes glowed adoringly. "I can't wait to feel you inside me for real."

At that Qui-Gon's eyes heated up again. "There is too much to talk about, my Obi-Wan," he protested weakly. "We do have to figure out what you're going to do next."

"Me? What about you?"

"I'm going to follow you around like the family pet, Jedi or not. Although I really would prefer to avoid Coruscant if at all possible. Still, if you want, I suppose I could find a way to fade into the background there and stay out of the notice of the Temple."

"Not likely," Obi-Wan mused, sitting up and straightening his tunics. "Don't worry, I think we can rule Coruscant off the list, Master mine. I won't chance putting you in a place where you will be in danger of repercussions you don't deserve. But somewhere a bit more civilized than this would be nice. If you can tear yourself away from the Deridas," he added with a grin.

"They were good to me," Qui-Gon murmured thoughtfully. "I wish I could do more for them, but they've dug themselves fairly deep."

It was Obi-Wan's turn to go thoughtful. "They mentioned some former members of the Syndicat are in power now," he said. "Maybe we should stay on a while. I could inform Master Yoda of the situation and ask to make this my assignment for a few years so we can monitor what's going on."

"You know he won't let you do that unless you've been asked to by the government," Qui-Gon reproved, and, tunics in order, stood up. Obi-Wan followed suit and they made their way down the staircase. "Which you certainly will not be."

"That bad, eh?"

"I haven't been overly interested, I admit, but I couldn't help overhearing some things. The Syndicat's in charge again, but fairly legally, and the people are prosperous."

"Not all of them," Obi-Wan pointed out. "Have you noticed where you've been living lately?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "The Fourth Quarter is dismal, I admit," he said. "But there is little we can do about it. As I said, we have not been invited. You could leave a recommendation for the government," he added suddenly. "As a Jedi, it is your right. Even if they don't do anything about it, they'll know the Jedi are aware of the situation. That alone might help a little."

"I'll drop it off tomorrow morning. Right before we leave for...um..." Obi-Wan cast his mind about. "Maybe I'd better contact Yoda and see where he wants me to go."

Qui-Gon looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't, and simply nodded. They made their way lazily through the darkened streets, something in their stance keeping criminals away. Every now and again their hands would brush and Obi-Wan felt his pulse quicken until he gave in and clasped the other man's hand tightly in his, glancing up for permission. The sweet smile on Qui-Gon's face told him what he needed to know, and so closely echoed the Qui-Gon of all those lost dreams that his throat caught in a suppressed sob.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, the smile erased by quick concern.

Obi-Wan dashed his free hand across his eyes, catching any stray tears that had leaked. "Nothing," he mumbled. "Well, no. I was just thinking about the dreams. I missed them when you were gone." Feeling Qui-Gon tense abruptly, he squeezed the hand. "I won't bring it up again if you can't talk about it."

There was a pause. Then, "No," said Qui-Gon, sadly. "I know how you feel, Obi-Wan, but I cannot help feeling that I was wrong to do that to you. What if you had never come into the feelings on your own?"

Obi-Wan repressed a shudder and shrugged. "You would have been unhappy then, too," he said, "and I'd certainly be no happier than I am now. Whatever you did, Qui-Gon, it brought us together like this. True, I might never have fallen in love with you. Life is like that. It's okay. I'm certainly in love with you now."

Qui-Gon nodded. "We should live in the moment," he murmured, and a smile quirked at his lips, "as you so dutifully told me in the last dream we shared."

"Ooh, yeah," Obi-Wan said dreamily, and a shiver snaked up his spine, this time welcomed. "That was a nice dream. I definitely think we should re-enact it sometime. Maybe tonight?" he added hopefully.

"I thought you wanted to be bottom tonight."

"I want both."

"You have far too high an opinion of my abilities."

"I don't think so. I think I could wriggle you down this alley right now, get inside your pants and make you come, and still be able to do it when we get back to the, um, house. The Force has to be good for something besides beating people up, you know. In fact--" and suiting actions to words, he dragged the stunned Qui-Gon down said deserted alley, carefully keeping an eye out for predators, animal and otherwise.

"Obi-Wan are you out of your eeack," Qui-Gon said succinctly as Obi-Wan unbuttoned his pants and swallowed him to the root.

Approximately seven minutes later, they emerged from the shadows, Obi-Wan smirking and wiping his chin, and Qui-Gon walking somewhat unsteadily. "Turnabout is fair play, you know," he muttered hoarsely.

"Oh, I hope so," Obi-Wan said serenely. "But we're only a block away from Paxxi and Guerra's, so I hope you can wait."

"I sleep on the floor of their room, you know."

"You do? Oh." Obi-Wan had to stop at that. "Then why the hell are we here? Let's go to my room. I have one rented in a better part of town and the bed belongs to nobody but me. And you now." He grinned at his lover. "Imagine. Not a rooftop or an alley but a real bed where I can take your clothes off and touch and explore my beautiful Master all night..."

Qui-Gon, as an experienced (if former) Jedi Master, did not whimper. But he made a sound that was suspiciously close. "Trying to make up for lost time?" he asked weakly.

"I don't know. Is it possible to make up for a year in one night? I think I'll need at least a week to run you ragged. I'll stop and get some food in the morning...oh, and pay for that fruit...and then we'll hole up in the room and never come out. Sound good?"

"Depends. Is there a toilet in that room?"

Obi-Wan glared. "New lovers are not supposed to be practical."

"Sorry. Lifetime of habit. Or habit of a lifetime...?"

"Fine. There's a toilet down the hall and you will be permitted to go at prearranged intervals--I'm kidding," he gasped, as Qui-Gon aimed a swat at his backside that he made no effort whatsoever to dodge.

"We should tell Paxxi and Guerra we're leaving," Qui-Gon murmured, "except that I know for a fact they won't be home till morning. Night is the best time for burglary, after all."

"What all do they steal?" Obi-Wan asked, aghast. "It can't be anything that worthwhile or they'd be living better than they are."

"Who knows?" Qui-Gon shrugged. "I never asked. And no man who steals lives well, my Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan accepted the truth of that with uncharacteristic silence, and they changed directions, heading into a better part of town.

It took them the better part of a half-hour to reach the building Obi-Wan inhabited, for it was a beautiful night and they walked slowly as Obi-Wan pointed out interesting parts of the city to Qui-Gon. For all that the older man had been living there for considerably longer, he had taken no interest in his surroundings, and knew nothing of the areas outside the Fourth Quarter.

Obi-Wan let them into the room after receiving a scathing glance from the proprietress, who was obviously not thrilled by the late hours he'd kept. Closing the door behind him, he shot a glance at Qui-Gon, who was taking in the tiny space, composed of floor, a bed and a chair, with a little window that overlooked a public square outside. "It's not much," he said sheepishly, "but I wanted to save money, didn't know how long I'd be here, and after sleeping on the floor I guess it looks pretty ni--"

His lover looked at him then, a little wide-eyed. "It's not real," he said in a hushed voice. "That is, it still doesn't seem that way. That I've made love with you, and walked with you and touched your hand, and now I'm here in this place with you..." his voice broke. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. I simply have this feeling that none of this is really happening. I'd say that I'm dreaming, but I haven't had a dream this nice in a long time."

Obi-Wan reached out and took his hand. "Then that should be proof enough this is real," he said gravely, "though I hope your dreams become much nicer now, love." He lifted the large hand in his own and pressed a tender kiss to a knuckle. "Sit down wherever there's room. My message console is blinking," he added, squashing down purposefully the quiver of foreboding in his stomach.

Soon, Yoda's gravelly voice was scratching its way through the room. "Heard from you in almost three weeks I have not, Padawan. Wondering, how goes your search? If Qui-Gon you find, contact me immediately you should. Have more to say to him I do."

Obi-Wan winced as the recording ended. "Want to listen to him, though, you do not," he said dryly.

Qui-Gon gave a small smile from where he'd seated himself on the bed. "He was civil when we spoke last," he replied, "though it was obvious he was furious at me. I think...perhaps...he has come to understand that I had intended no abuse. Not that that excuses anything, and not that I wanted to bring it up again," he added hastily as Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak. "Could we leave it for later?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Later after what, my Master?" he inquired, his voice this close to purring. Then he dropped his robe to the ground. Then he pulled off his boots, one by one. Then he started unbuckling his belt.

Then he said, "I should get naked in a hurry if I were you. It's not as if I don't already know what I'm going to do."

Qui-Gon's voice trembled like a reed in the wind as his hands began to pull his tunics open. "Do you?"

"Um-hum. It starts with your nipples, so get the shirt off first, if you please. And the boots, so the pants aren't obstructed later."

Qui-Gon's mouth opened and closed, but he yanked off his outer and inner tunics with astonishing rapidity. Obi-Wan paused in his own disrobing to stare at Qui-Gon's bare chest, the breastbone more obvious than it had been before, and the skin less tanned, but still a magnificent specimen. He couldn't take his eyes off the bronze nipples, the tips of which seemed to be pointing out at him in inquiry. So, they were saying. Feel like snacking on us anytime soon? Obi-Wan certainly did and forgot all about his own clothes as he pounced on poor Qui-Gon, who was in the middle of taking off his left boot. "Obioomph," was all his former Master had to say before Obi-Wan dove for the chest.

Then his large hands were holding Obi-Wan's still-clothed ass in a death grip as Obi-Wan began flicking his tongue lightly over the left nipple. "Gods," he moaned.

"I like these," Obi-Wan whispered as he lightly blew warm air over the moistened peak, and felt Qui-Gon quiver. "I can tell they're very sensitive." He nipped the tip very quickly and felt his partner's hips buck. "Um. That's wonderful. Do you think I could make you come just from doing this?"

Qui-Gon only panted. Obi-Wan bit down a little harder and listened to the startled yelp. "Do you?" he demanded, quickly soothing the abraded flesh again with his tongue.

"Yes," the other man moaned, so faintly Obi-Wan had to strain to hear it. "I think...I think you could make me come just by looking at me if you wanted..."

Obi-Wan found the statement almost unbearably erotic, but immediately clamped control down over himself. He wanted this, their first real coupling, to last a long time. So he bent and rubbed the other nipple, already hardened, with his nose. Which was cold from walking outside. He snickered at Qui-Gon's sharp intake of breath, and then at the shaky moan that followed as Obi-Wan began to twist the first nipple with his fingers. "Can I have these?" he murmured.

"They're yours," Qui-Gon gasped.

"You promise? You wouldn't give them to anybody else, now."

"No. Only you. I would...ooohhhh....only entrust them to somebody who could take proper care of them--" Qui-Gon threw his head back as Obi-Wan began biting in earnest. "Just...like...thaaat...gods, do that more, more, please!"

Obi-Wan did for a few more minutes, and then decided that his love was getting a little too excited too quickly for what he intended to be a long, slow session. He removed his lips and fingers from the enticing nipples, ignored the faint cry of protest, and simply lay atop Qui-Gon and surgically attached their lips together. He lost count of how many long, deep kisses they shared, but it felt like it would never be enough. He noted vaguely that at some point Qui-Gon rolled over and they were lying side-by-side, but they were so wrapped up together, arms and legs completely entwined, that it didn't seem to matter who was on top or not.

Qui-Gon had begun to rub his hips against Obi-Wan's, and the younger man realized he was responding in a decidedly non-slow way. He forced himself to slow down, and then stop, but it was difficult; his former Master's erection felt so good and warm through the cloth of their pants. If they were naked this would already be over. He tilted his head back and allowed Qui-Gon's tongue to dip inside again and stroke the roof of his mouth, feeling the large, blunt fingertips stroking with featherlight softness along his sides. "So good," he breathed when the warm tongue retreated.

"Mmmm," Qui-Gon replied, bending to nuzzle at the small hollow where Obi-Wan's neck joined his shoulder. It seemed that he had adjusted to the slow pace, and as he inhaled the scent of Obi-Wan's skin his former student had to fight hard to keep from shivering uncontrollably. "Do you know how much I wanted this?"

"You did mention it, I believe..."

"No, not just the sex. This. You here with me, of your own will, both of us wanting--" he broke off into a groan as Obi-Wan skimmed his fingertips under the waistband of his pants.

"Wanting what?" Obi-Wan whispered mischievously.

"Wanting--you know what! Obi, Obi-Wan," he murmured, and bent to steal another impossibly sweet kiss.

Under the leggings, Obi-Wan's fingertips were smoothing their way over firm buttocks, barely touching the warm skin, and soon Qui-Gon was squirming uncontrollably. "So good," he gasped.

"I said that already," Obi-Wan murmured against his mouth with a grin.

"Gods, do you always tease like this during sex?"

"I have no idea. I've never had sex before, well, real sex anyway. Why, does talking bother you?"

"No--" Qui-Gon had to pause as one finger brushed mockingly over the crack of his ass, "no," he continued, "it's just that you seem so damned calm about something that's about to drive me crazy--"

"What will really drive you crazy is when I start licking you there," Obi-Wan breathed, brushing his finger over the crack again, the teasing gone from his voice and replaced with promise. "I'm really going to make you scream this time, Qui-Gon. And you're really going to fuck me, eventually. I have the oil in my bag. Brought it specially."

Qui-Gon's eyes rolled slightly back in his head before they returned to gaze down at his lover. "Wh-when?" he managed.

Obi-Wan successfully hid his grin this time. "Soon, love," he promised soothingly. "But not just yet. We have lots of things to do to each other first."

"Yes," Qui-Gon breathed, and moved so quickly that Obi-Wan was on his back and pinned before he knew it. His eyes roamed hungrily over his Padawan's body. "And what do you want me to do to you first?"

This brought back memories of the dreams so strongly that Obi-Wan had to stifle a gasp. He cast his mind back to those same dreams and said, "Suck me. Please. So slowly...you know how..." remembering that both of them had loved this, as he'd slept.

The cobalt blue eyes seemed to catch fire as the older man whispered, "Yes," and before he knew it, Obi-Wan was minus one pair of leggings. Qui-Gon shucked off his own pants and bent to his task, the tip of a reddened tongue just darting out to graze against the foreskin of Obi-Wan's cock; then fingers delicately pulled the skin back and the very tip of the tongue began dabbing lightly at the welling fluid that appeared. Obi-Wan hissed in something like fury and bucked his hips urgently, not really caring if he poked Qui-Gon's eye out or what, and his tormenter chuckled softly. "You are not the only one who can tease, my Obi-Wan," he whispered against the hot flesh of Obi-Wan's thigh. "Now lie still. You did say slow was what you wanted."

"Slow, not," Obi-Wan gulped as the tongue-tip trailed down his length, barely touching it, "not fucking torture, for Force's sake! Ooooh..." his hips rolled as Qui-Gon lapped lazily at the base of his cock, then moving to suck lightly on his balls. "Yes. Yesssss."

"Is this good," Qui-Gon murmured, almost absently, though Obi-Wan knew his mentor was paying the closest attention to all of his responses.

"Good...is not...an adequate...word," he replied, clenching the sheets with his hands to keep from grabbing at the infuriating man's head. "Force. Force."

"Umm-mmm," Qui-Gon murmured around the tender flesh, a sound of the utmost savoring, as though this were the most delicious delicacy he'd ever tasted, and it might be, considering that they'd skipped dinner, but oh shit it turned Obi-Wan on too much for words. Two strong hands cupped his buttocks and lifted his hips, so that the tongue could move lower to lick his perineum. And then farther back...and then...oh gods...

"Thank you," was all he could say. "Oh. Thank you. Thank you." Which seemed an odd thing to say when someone was delicately rimming you, but he suddenly had to thank his lover. For everything. "I love you," he added huskily. "Oooh, do that again." And Qui-Gon did, until Obi-Wan couldn't say anything at all.

Then he felt himself being gently turned over onto his stomach and began to tremble with uncontrollable excitement. He felt Qui-Gon shaking too, and knew the older man couldn't wait anymore. So much for a slow suck, he thought giddily, and raised his hips eagerly in the air. "I'd rather watch your face," he gasped.

"Soon," Qui-Gon grunted, stroking lightly over his anus with still-dry fingers, dusting kisses over his shoulders and spine. "This is your first time, love. Well, in real life," he added with some chagrin, "and this will be much easier for you. But soon, I promise, I also want--ohh--where the hell did you say that oil was?"

"In...the bag...by the...bed." He heard a rapid rustling, a few thumps and a muffled curse. There was a sound like that of sundry articles being tossed across the floor in haste, and then a cork being popped out; and then, finally, slickened fingers were probing between his cheeks. Qui-Gon carefully inserted one fingertip and Obi-Wan moaned, arching up still further. "That feels so good!" he gasped happily, and began to wiggle, encouraging the large, blunt finger to venture further inside. Soon it was buried up to the knuckle and, with an insufferably smug smile on his face, Qui-Gon was stroking Obi-Wan's prostate until the younger man could hardly breathe for moaning.

"I'm going...I'm going...to come," he cried on a strangled gasp of air.

"Are you, now?" Qui-Gon asked softly, not stopping.

"Oh, no...no no, not yet, please, not yet!" To his relief and his body's utter frustration, the finger withdrew--only to return moments later with its oil-coated brethren and Obi-Wan thought he simply might die from trying to hold back. "Gods! Gods! Ohhh! Will you hurry up!!" Thank the Force Qui-Gon hadn't touched his erection. One brush and he'd be exploding all over the bed, will it or no.

Then the fingers all left him, to be replaced by two strong, trembling hands that gently palmed his buttocks and spread him farther--but he didn't feel the intrusion he so desperately wanted. "Qui, please," he panted. "Please. I know we wanted it slow, but this is torture."

To Obi-Wan's dizzy surprise, Qui-Gon's own voice was hoarse as he answered, "I know, love. I'm just...I need a minute..." and to his intense delight Obi-Wan realized he wasn't the only one on the edge of insanity. Finally Qui-Gon seemed to have his body under control again as he took a deep breath, aligned his cock with the tight entrance that awaited it, and began to slowly push forward.

Oh. Oh, oh, it was better than the fingers, better than the mouth, better than humping on the roof, better than anything could possibly be. There was a little discomfort, but not much, and the hot length felt so good inside him he barely noticed it. The only thing that bothered him was how damned slow his partner was going. He gathered all his breath as Qui-Gon finally pushed all the way in and screamed, "HARDER!" as loudly as he could.

Qui-Gon froze for a moment, then his grip on Obi-Wan's hips tightened, he retreated, and then lunged forward with a thrust so powerful that it expelled all the air in Obi-Wan's lungs with a shriek of pleasure. Pounding ensued, and after only a few of those earthshaking thrusts, and without even a touch to his erection, Obi-Wan felt himself convulsing and coming all over the bedclothes. It felt like his penis had burst open in the most impossibly wonderful way. By this time he was too out of breath even to moan, he could only shake and shudder along for the ride, and watch the colors dancing behind his eyelids as he fought not to pass out.

Qui-Gon managed to continue for the space of a few more breaths, seemingly wanting to watch all of his lover's pleasure, even tried to slow down a little, but it was too late. With the remains of his energy, Obi-Wan tightened his anus once more around the pole of muscle inside him and heard Qui-Gon scream, "Obi-Wan!" in one breath before a hot rush filled him and made him feel like the most desirable creature that had ever lived.

Apparently having heard the thought, Qui-Gon gasped, "You are," and collapsed onto his elbows, managing not to crush his young lover. Half-conscious at best, Obi-Wan felt tender kisses being dropped languidly over his shoulders, and then the softened erection was slipping from him. Qui-Gon wrapped him in his huge warm arms and the Knight gave a sigh of contentment which turned into a purr. He was warm and sated and lying safely in the arms of the one he loved best. Determined not to think of Yoda, or the Temple, or leaving Yoda and the Temple, or any other unpleasant possibilities, he mumbled "Love you" again and immediately drifted off to sleep.

He awoke an hour or so later, to find himself still cradled against Qui-Gon's massive chest, his lover's beautiful blue eyes watching him reverently. "'M hungry," he mumbled, and a chuckle rumbled out of Qui-Gon's chest.

"Market doesn't open till dawn, love. You have a few hours to wait."

Obi-Wan grimaced. "Uhh. As Guerra says, 'not so.' I have a few ration bars in my bag..." he glanced over at the bag in obvious reluctance. "That's if I can find them in the mess you made."

Qui-Gon was making a face of his own. "Help yourself then. I think I can wait till morning instead of eating that...that..."

"Dewback shit wrapped in sawdust?" He had to laugh at Qui-Gon's expression. "What, you think I didn't overhear that thought of yours?"

Qui-Gon shook his head with a rueful smile. "This is going to take some getting used to."

Obi-Wan grew solemn again. "I agree. And our bond is far stronger than it was before. Qui..." his voice trailed off.

"I know," was the quiet reply. Obi-Wan gnawed discontentedly on a ration bar for a few moments before tossing it aside in disgust and settled back against his former Master. The two lay close together in the bed without speaking, hearing only the mingle of their thoughts and waiting for the dawn.

Dawn on that side of Phindar meant early afternoon in Coruscant, so after a much-needed breakfast Obi-Wan decided it was time to call in and report to Yoda. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"It must be done," Qui-Gon said gently, "and the consequences accepted, whatever they may be."

Obi-Wan snorted. "And here I said you weren't serene."

"Hmm...?" Qui-Gon frowned briefly, then narrowed his eyes in recognition. "Oh, yes, that."

"Best be making that comm call, then," Obi-Wan said hurriedly, and launched himself out of bed with astonishing alacrity.

"Yes, do. And then there's a little matter we should discuss involving dignity and how it compares to 'constipation.' You little brat of a Padawan."

"Not anybody's Padawan 'nymore," Obi-Wan mumbled around one last mouthful of breakfast fruit (now rightfully paid for), "an' 'mnot little." With an impish grin, he turned and wriggled his naked butt at his former Master. "I am kind of bratty, though."

A half-chewed kaavafruit sailed by his head and he ducked it with a chuckle, having sensed the instant dissipation of Qui-Gon's ire the moment he'd shown himself off in all his glory. He'd have to work hard on keeping in shape so that his lover was always so susceptible to this...

"No fear of that," Qui-Gon murmured, and leaned back in the bed with a smug grin of contentment, watching Obi-Wan move around the room. "You're stalling," he added.

Obi-Wan winced slightly. "So I am. Just let me get some clothes on." Ignoring the brief flash of disappointment from the other man, he threw on a pair of pants and an undertunic. "If you insist on being a nudist this morning, stay out of view," he ordered, "or Master Yoda may well see even more of you than he plans on."

With that, Qui-Gon hastily began pulling on his own pants, mumbling "Just in case" under his breath.

Trying to dispel the last of his reluctance, Obi-Wan keyed in Yoda's commcode. An instant later, the reception signal blipped and the wizened Master's face appeared in hologram form. "Knight Kenobi," he said somewhat irascibly. "Hoped to hear from you earlier, I had."

Obi-Wan bowed. "Forgive me, Master Yoda," he said. "But I hope my news will make up for my delay."

Yoda's ears lifted slightly, a good sign. "Found Jinn, you have." Not a question.

"Yes. And I have achieved shalan." Along with other things, he thought wryly, noting the soreness in his backside. Out of view, he could feel Qui-Gon suppressing a chuckle.

"Good. Return to the Temple, then, you will."

"Master?"

"Put you on teaching assignment for the next threemonth, I will. Badly in need of new training Masters. Your skill with the lightsaber, needed among the older initiates will be."

Obi-Wan straightened. "Master Yoda, I must respectfully request another assignment. I have no wish to return to Coruscant at this time, and indeed find it impossible to do so."

Yoda's ears dropped again, and he looked decidedly unhappy. "So. Keep Qui-Gon with you, and allow him to keep running, you will, hmm?"

"I'm not--"

"You are!" Obi-Wan could not see, but could hear the gimmer stick being thumped emphatically over the transmission. "Hide from what he has done, he does."

"I am only protecting him from unfair repercussions that would befall him should he return," Obi-Wan replied firmly. "He has offered to return with me if it is necessary. I do not wish that to happen."

Yoda's eyes closed halfway. "Sure, I am, that his offer was wholehearted," he said dryly.

Obi-Wan had to tamp down an immediate surge of anger. Before he could reply, however, Qui-Gon stepped into view of the communicator. "Greetings, Master Yoda," he said calmly.

"Ohh, so show yourself, you do?" This was the most sarcastic version of Yoda Obi-Wan had ever encountered. "Such courage you have."

Qui-Gon merely raised an eyebrow. "I have made contact with you before now, my Master," he said pointedly. "And I do not shirk from it now, in spite of the fact that you are far less than polite."

"Polite, not my concern. Obi-Wan's obedience to the Order, yes, my concern. Your betrayal, though forgiven by Obi-Wan and myself, still yet my concern." Yoda glared. "Needed Obi-Wan is. Think this a lie on my part? Training Masters have we nearly none."

Qui-Gon bowed his head. "I believe it. The number was low even when I left."

"And now Knight Aran, saber-master, has left for field duty. Need another to take its place. Obi-Wan fill the void can, if only for a while." Yoda's countenance turned almost kind. "Stay at the Temple you need not," he said softly. "Seek to separate you, I do not. Bond you have formed?"

The two men glanced at each other. "Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said slowly. "We have bonded."

"Then remain together, you shall. Live not at the Temple. Fear reprisals, Qui-Gon need not. When new training masters have been found..." Yoda shrugged. "New arrangements will be made. Ideal, situation is not, but all I can offer--" his gaze became sharp, "if to remain with Jedi is your wish, Knight Kenobi."

Obi-Wan bowed humbly. "Most assuredly, Master Yoda. But Qui-Gon..." he turned his gaze to his mate. "Perhaps we should discuss--"

"I agree to the conditions," Qui-Gon said calmly. "Arrangements can be made when we arrive on Coruscant."

Yoda nodded, satisfied again. "I see you in a few days then, Obi-Wan. Safe journey home I wish you." The message blinked out.

Obi-Wan turned again to Qui-Gon, who forestalled him with a finger on his lips. "No more running, Obi-Wan," he said quietly. "He's right. It's not ideal, but things rarely are. And we'll make it work somehow."

"It's only temporary," Obi-Wan offered sadly. "He said so. And then I'll ask for permanent assignment on some world or other and we'll go there."

Qui-Gon looked upset. "That's not what you ever wanted, Padawan. You always loved zipping across the galaxy from mission to mission."

"Maybe that's because I've never had a real home, except the Temple when I was little," Obi-Wan replied. "We'll give it a chance, Qui. We'll try everything if we have to. I'm not afraid. I love you."

"I love you too," Qui-Gon said, his voice gentle. "And it's all right to be a little afraid in a situation like this, I think. I certainly am. The thought that I might be keeping you from what's best for you makes me ill."

"No more of that," snapped Obi-Wan, and pulled his lover in for a fierce hug. "You are what's best for me, Qui-Gon Jinn. And you'd better give me the chance to prove it."

Qui-Gon kissed him. "You have ever been what is best for me. After Xanatos--gods, I don't want to think what I would have become if not for you."

"Good at drawing still lifes."

"What?"

"Never mind. Time to pack up."

They made a quick, secretive stop at Paxxi and Guerra's home to pick up Qui-Gon's things, which were not many in number, and Obi-Wan got to say both hello and goodbye to Paxxi.

"We are glad you visited, Jedi-Gon and Obawan," Guerra said with a genuine smile, "and we are so very much more glad that you are friends again. It did not seem right for noble Jedis to be at odds."

"No," Qui-Gon agreed, "it did not. Thank you, my friends. For your troubles." And he handed them a credit chip. "I appreciate your hospitality."

"It was freely given and well-meant," Paxxi said, but Obi-Wan noticed he immediately pocketed the chip. "We wish you a safe journey, our friends!"

It was a brief walk to the rented hangar where Obi-Wan safely kept his ship and they loaded quickly. Soon all the fees had been paid, clearance had been obtained and Phindar was yet another receding planet from the windows of the tiny craft.

"Well," Obi-Wan said, taking a deep breath. "That was that; and here we go."

Qui-Gon only smiled and dropped a kiss on his head. "I have had time to think on what Yoda said, and I believe he may have been right. I was quite ready to keep running. A shameful thing for a man who was Jedi-trained. No, love, we are doing the right thing by going to Coruscant."

"We didn't have much choice," Obi-Wan said dryly, "but I'm glad you think so. And I'm glad you're not going to be bothered."

"Well, I would have gone through with it even so, if it meant I could be with you," Qui-Gon said mildly, "though I doubt I would have looked much forward to it. At any rate, the Jedi are not vengeful, for all of Yoda's ire. I think I have very little to fear on that account."

Obi-Wan nodded solemnly. "He felt very betrayed. And let it show."

Qui-Gon gave him a soft, sad smile, and Obi-Wan wondered if he would ever persuade his beloved to stop feeling guilty. He rather doubted it would happen anytime soon, but perhaps eventually. And in spite of the fact that Qui-Gon was no longer Jedi, Obi-Wan had made sure that two lightsabers were safely stored away in his pack. You never knew. And besides, maybe he could persuade his former mentor to help him keep up with his training...

Then he turned to Qui-Gon. "You know what? I've been sitting here speculating pointlessly."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he finished making a minute course correction. "Oh?"

"Yes. I need distraction."

The other eyebrow joined its companion, and the older man's mouth crinkled in the beginning of a smile as he stood up. "Well, why don't you give me a tour of your craft?"

"What a good idea. This is the cockpit. You know, in case you hadn't noticed. In the corner over there is the cooling unit and the 'fresher's in this tiny cubicle to the left. Sleeping quarters in the back. Um. That's it."

Qui-Gon was grinning openly now. "I'll make a poet out of you yet, my Obi-Wan. All you need to work on is your...elaboration." He paused, as if thinking, and Obi-Wan had to bite his lip to keep from snorting in laughter. "Sleeping quarters. Sounds like a solid theme. And I haven't seen them yet."

"Do tell?" Obi-Wan took his lover's hand, quickly set the ship on autopilot for a dock in Coruscant a few miles from the Temple, and began dragging him back to the bedroom. "I did mention they were comfortable earlier, didn't I? Oh, well, allow me to show you," and the door hissed shut as Obi-Wan pounced on Qui-Gon and bore them both down on the bed.

"Very nice," Qui-Gon managed between chuckles and sighs as Obi-Wan went to work on his throat. Then, seriously, "I love you...Only-One."

There was a pause, and Obi-Wan looked deeply into his eyes, smiling gently. "I never have been one for sentiment," he breathed, "but you can bring that one out for special occasions, most definitely."

"Yes, love," Qui-Gon murmured as his lover bent his head for another kiss.

The ship sped on towards Coruscant, and with that, the future.

END

(Finally. If you want a sequel, boy, it's up to you. I'm worn out. Although I really would like to see someone's interpretation of the alley/blowjob scene ;-)