Warnings: As I began to write this, I could almost hear
readers walking away from it. Some people just don't like to
see Qui-Gon paired with anyone else. But while this starts as
Qui-Gon and someone else, it ENDS just the way we like it: With
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan together. It works. It really does. Just
READ the story already. Please? I promise the ending is
worth it...
Spoilers: A tiny bit for TPM's characters...nothing much by way
of plot spoilers for the movie
Summary: How much time will be lost before two Jedi learn to
appreciate what they have?
Feedback: Please, please, please!!!! I'm new to all this, and
when I don't hear from anyone, I get a complex...Please save my
beta readers (and the folks in #tpm) from having to listen to
me whine... : ) Flames, should you feel the need to send them,
will be cheerfully forwarded to the ferret, who will hunt down
all flamers and bite their ankles. Thank you!
Disclaimers: We all know who these characters belong to (Thank
you, Mr. Lucas!), so there's no question as to who's getting
all the credit, money, attention, etc. for these wonderful
Jedi. (Hint: It's not me...) Disappointing as that is, I'd just
like to borrow them to tell this story...
Inspiration: This began as saraid's bunny... I was dead stopped
on another story and needed something else, when sa offered me
one of her ideas. Her original summary included, "A touch of
angst, hot sex, and Mace as a good guy." It was also supposed
to be a threesome at one point (M/Q/O), but after I took over
their care and feeding, the plot bunnies just wouldn't veer in
that direction. Ah, well...I think I hit all of the other
stuff... : ) Thanks also to Mama, who's myriad suggestions
inspired the fic's final title. Whew.
Thank yous: To Esmerelda for coming through with an absolutely
awesome beta that saved me from myself-and saved readers as
well...to Keely who betaed the next version...to Holly, Keely,
Mama, and sa for betas and various other life-saving
comments...to Mama for helping me to sort things out on my
crazy writing nights-and for convincing me that sometimes I
really do know what I'm talking about...to Keely for her
expert opinions and minute-to-minute irc consultations as I
struggled through some of the...uh...*harder parts...to the
#tpm group for listening to me rant and for insisting that the
'channel topic' I invented one day be worked into a story ( You
guess which sentence!) ...to CJK who helped me enormously one
day in #tpm, out of the clear blue, and managed to get my story
back on track.
[ ] is Q/M telepathy
/ / is Q/O telepathy
"Qui-Gon? What's the matter?"
Still within the other man, sated and sweat-sheened from their
love-making, Mace Windu looked down into the blue eyes with
concern.
Lashes and lids fluttered closed and then open, usually stoic
features clouded over with sorrow.
"It's nothing," Qui-Gon fabricated smoothly, although the lines
of his face said otherwise.
"It's something," Mace said firmly, not misled. "I know
you-and this isn't you. You haven't been 'with' me all
evening. Your mind is elsewhere. Where?"
"Mace, please. Don't worry about..."
"Qui-Gon!" Mace said in exasperation. "I may be older than I
used to be, but I'm not a foolish old man yet." At the hurt
look on the other's face, Mace allowed his tone to soften. "Why
is it so difficult for you to share your troubles with me?" he
asked quietly.
Acceptance shone in Qui-Gon's eyes as he gave in to his
friend's wishes to help. "I'm worried about him, Mace. I'm well
and truly worried."
"And I am worried about you," Mace told him,
fixing a semi-stern gaze upon Qui-Gon until he had his
attention. He'd known something wasn't right. The passion had
been in their loving this night, but not the fire.
Leaning down, Mace planted a soft kiss on his lover's mouth,
wanting only to comfort him.
The swift answering movement, Qui-Gon's hot tongue begging
entry into his mouth, caressing his teeth and tongue, plunging
deeper in search of more, sent electrical jolts of
pleasure through Mace's chest and belly, straight down to his
loins. He felt himself go immediately hard, but as much as he
would have liked to go another round with the man beneath him,
he knew it would solve nothing.
"Qui-Gon," he said quietly. "This isn't what you need right
now."
Gently, he pulled out of the other man, heart tearing as he
heard the hiss of breath between Qui-Gon's clenched teeth at
the unexpected withdrawal. Rolling onto his side, he took his
lover with him, until they were chest to chest, Qui-Gon's head
resting on his shoulder. Softly, he began to card a hand
through the waterfall of silvering hair.
"Talk to me, Qui-Gon. Tell me what's going on."
There was silence, as Qui-Gon considered the question and
collected his thoughts. He drew in a deep breath, unable to
stop the shiver of doubt that coursed through him.
Mace's grip tightened, unwilling to allow the self-torture to
continue. "Qui-Gon..."
"He lied to me."
The two of them spoke at nearly the same moment, and had the
other man's lips not been directly beside his ear, Mace would
have missed the sudden, strangled confession.
"Obi-Wan has never lied to me before, Mace. Never,"
Qui-Gon continued, his voice heavy with despair. "Mace, what
have I done?"
"You have done nothing, Qui-Gon," Mace assured him. Nothing
that cannot be undone, he added silently. He stroked
Qui-Gon's loose hair and bare back several moments more before
preparing to rise. "Let us take a hot shower, my friend, and
then you can tell me what has happened to upset you so."
Side by side on the freshly-made bed the two Jedi lay. Qui-Gon
stared up at the ceiling, arms tense at his sides. Mace
mirrored his position, but snaked one hand out, finding
Qui-Gon's hand. Twining their fingers together, Mace squeezed
in reassurance.
The elder Master's aura was not what Mace would have deemed
'calm', but neither was it as jumbled and chaotic as it had
been. The water and some time to think things over had helped
enormously.
After several long minutes, Mace released Qui-Gon's hand,
running his thumb slowly over the knuckles and wrist before
letting it fall gently to the bed. Rolling onto his side, he
leaned up on one elbow, steeling himself for what he knew was
likely to be a difficult conversation.
"Now," Mace said softly. "Tell me."
There was a pause. "It is much the same as it has been,"
Qui-Gon admitted reluctantly. "But a discovery I made
yesterday...has changed everything."
Mace was well aware that things had never been easy for this
man and his padawan. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were off-planet much
of the time, not allowing either one of them many opportunities
to see or spend time with friends on Coruscant. Not that
Obi-Wan Kenobi had many friends. Even in the creche, he had
been more motivated to learn and train than to form
friendships. And once he had been taken as padawan by his
Master, his drive to succeed had become even stronger.
But such determination was admirable in a Jedi, and Qui-Gon and
the Council had decided to overlook the youngster's aversion to
outside activity and allow him to have what he most desired:
time with his master to watch and experience, grow and train in
the ways of the Jedi. They had felt that as the demands on
Obi-Wan's time and skills steadily increased, so would his
natural tendencies to seek out the company and support of
others.
They had been wrong.
More and more concerned for the young man's lack of close
relationships as he reached the age of maturity and passed into
his twenties, Qui-Gon had tried to encourage Obi-Wan's
socialization. He had often cut the padawan's training sessions
short, given him mid-days free and more evenings off in hope
that he would spend the time with padawans and knights his own
age.
At first, Obi-Wan had resisted almost fiercely, insisting that
he was of age and able to make his own choices regarding the
ways in which he spent his free time. But as it became obvious
that his master would not back down, he had acquiesced.
Over the last six months, Qui-Gon and his padawan had been on
Coruscant more than usual. It had given Qui-Gon some
much-wanted time with Mace, something both of them enjoyed, and
had provided Obi-Wan with the time to socialize.
A long, low sigh brought Mace back to the present.
"Qui-Gon?"
His question was greeted with soft breathing and silence.
"Qui-Gon? Talk to me...please."
"He...said he was spending time with friends, Mace..." Qui-Gon
began abruptly, rubbing a hand over his eyes as if he were
trying to erase the memories...or perhaps to clarify them.
"Parties, gatherings, clubs. He spoke of specific things he did
at these places...celebrating an agemate's birthday, swimming
in the Y'Bri lagoon, even a time when he claimed to have
ingested a bit too much alcohol, calling to say he would not be
returning to our quarters until morning."
"Yes," Mace agreed, nodding. "You've told me of these things.
As well as the fact that he's recently met someone to whom he's
attracted. Someone he's been devoting a lot of time to. And you
know I share in your joy at knowing Obi-Wan is finally finding
a way to share of himself with others." Mace paused, brow
furrowing in concern. "Are you saying that some of what Obi-Wan
has told you is not true?" The direction of the conversation
was beginning to disturb him.
Before Mace could take his next breath, Qui-Gon had turned in
his arms and was face to face with him. His expression was a
mixture of anguish and barely-checked anger.
"NONE of it is true!" he cried, eyes wide with the hurt of it.
Mace was momentarily stunned. If he'd been expecting Qui-Gon to
say anything, it hadn't been this. How could this possibly be
so?
"If Obi-Wan has not been doing all that he claimed," Mace said
quietly, "is it possible that he's been in just one
place--with just one person? Perhaps with the
acquaintance he's mentioned?"
Mace was grasping at straws, he knew, but the possibility was
not an unreasonable one. Slowly, he began to move his hands in
calming circles over Qui-Gon's back, feeling tight muscle
beneath his fingers that did nothing to reassure him.
"Perhaps he felt pressured to be spending time with many people
in many places, and not just with one significant other," Mace
suggested. "Maybe he felt obligated in some way to make the
accounts of his whereabouts appropriate. "He wouldn't be the
first padawan to have covered up a special relationship by
saying, 'I was out with friends.' I believe even you and I used
that excuse with our masters, when we felt the need to
have time alone and away from everyone else." The corners of
his mouth twitched at the memory.
"There is no 'significant other'!" Qui-Gon's explosive
answer wiped the half-smile from Mace's face. "There never was!
There is only my padawan...and a collection of untruths. And as
his master, I am to blame."
Qui-Gon's pulse beat fast and furious, and Mace feared his
churning emotions would wake the entire Council.
"Let us set blame aside for the moment," he told Qui-Gon, using
his voice as a salve upon the older man's soul. "I need you to
help me understand exactly what has taken place, so that I may
help you deal with it." He ran long fingers across Qui-Gon's
forehead and down one cheek. "Will you do that?"
There was a slight nod.
"Now, tell me...if Obi-Wan has not been spending time with the
other knights and padawans, what has he been doing? And
how did you come to find out?"
Qui-Gon looked at him sadly. "I spoke with Yoda yesterday
morning...was called into his chambers to speak with him. And I
have since subtlely questioned a number of the young men and
women Obi-Wan has claimed to have spent time with over the last
six months. None of them could corroborate his stories."
Blue eyes searched Mace's dark face for answers that could not
be found there. The glittering tear that slid free as they fell
closed in utter despair tore at Mace's heart.
"What did Yoda say?" he asked Qui-Gon. What had Obi-Wan done
that was questionable enough to pull the attention of the
ancient Jedi Master?
"He asked me..." Qui-Gon faltered, as if the words were too
difficult to say. "He asked me why my padawan had been cast
out...asked why I had not come to the Council if our
master/apprentice relationship was in jeopardy." The color
drained from his face as the memories returned.
"I was so surprised I couldn't even answer him, Mace! There was
nothing I could say! Yoda stood there, calmly listing
times and places when he'd observed Obi-Wan out and alone, and
all I could do was stare at him in disbelief. It was so
entirely contradictory to everything Obi-Wan had shared with
me, that I suddenly didn't know what to believe."
Mace felt his lover begin to tremble, Qui-Gon's mind awash in
grief and anger. Carefully he reached out to stroke Qui-Gon's
face.
"Easy," he said, gently stroking warmth into the cool skin.
"Take it easy. Everything is going to be fine." He sent calming
waves of the Force over and around the man in his arms,
projecting a gentle web of reassurance.
"Now, what else did Yoda tell you about Obi-Wan?"
The Qui-Gon took a breath. "Master Yoda gave unending accounts
of Obi-Wan's time away from our quarters...time I'd been led to
believe he'd been spending with others. Yoda spoke of late
nights when he'd come upon Obi-Wan on his knees in the
meditation gardens...or wearing himself ragged in the practice
gyms, running through katas and other strenuous exercises.
"He spoke of times when others had reported seeing Obi-Wan
walking the Temple grounds all night long...or asleep on the
cold, hard floors of some of the temple's most deserted
corridors." He drew in a sharp breath. "Asleep on the floor,
Mace! Like some animal thrown out of its home...abandoned!"
Horror and self-recrimination shaded the Jedi master's voice.
Mace had to admit that he was more than a little troubled by
this knowledge. All of it was so unlike the Obi-Wan Kenobi he
knew. Which meant it was possible, the logical half of his mind
reasoned before he could stop it, that they didn't know Obi-Wan
as well as they'd fancied they did.
The thought, as it came and went, was painful to accept and
more impossible to believe. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a kind-hearted,
hard-working young man who set a shining example for the rest
of the Padawans-for all the young people at the Temple. Under
the continued tutelage and gentle guidance of Qui-Gon Jinn, he
was going to be an exemplary Knight. There had to be
more to all of this than had been reported.
"Yoda knew more about the activities and whereabouts of my
Padawan than I knew myself, Mace!" Qui-Gon spoke again, voice
hoarse with emotion. "How could he have been more aware of
Obi-Wan than I was? Obi-Wan is my padawan. We share a bond--we
share a life." He paused, breathing harshly for several
moments, chest heaving. "How could I not have known?"
Again, a string of questions with no clear answers.
Mace regarded the wounded man for several long moments. "You're
feeling guilty and betrayed because Yoda knew things you
didn't," he put back to Qui-Gon. "And you're upset about
Obi-Wan concealing his actions and fabricating stories." Mace
turned the question into a statement, but he took Qui-Gon's
silence as affirmation of his words .
"Was Yoda really accusing you of something, Qui-Gon?" he asked
quietly. "Or was he merely attempting to bring a situation to
your attention so that you could remedy it before it turned
into something far more serious?"
The other man continued on as if he hadn't heard a word Mace
had said.
"Great loneliness I sense in him. Great longing," Qui-Gon
repeated the aged Jedi Master's words, sorrow flowing from his
every pore.
"Loneliness. Longing." He turned the words over on his tongue
as if they had the bitterest of tastes. "Was I so blind, Mace?
Was I so caught up in my own thoughts and pursuits of pleasure
that I was completely unaware of the suffering of my Padawan?
Obi-Wan's best interests must always come before anything of
mine." He swallowed convulsively.
"Six months, Mace! For six months he has been misleading
me, for whatever reason. If my neglect of him has damaged him
in any way...if my attempts to give him more freedom and more
time away from me have harmed him more than helped him...I am
no longer fit to be his master. I am no longer fit to be
anyone's master."
Mace had no immediate, simple solutions to offer. The situation
was one which would require careful consideration and delicate
maneuvering.
To the familiar movement of large, soothing hands in his hair,
Qui-Gon drifted into an uneasy sleep-unlike his partner, who
remained awake and staring up at the ceiling through the rest
of the night...and through the nights that followed.
Can you really be this blind, Qui-Gon? Mace asked over
and over into the silence. Is it possible that you honestly
don't see what has been happening-what IS happening-between
yourself and Obi-Wan?
"Oh, my friend," he whispered. "Why am I the only one who knows
what each of you truly needs?"
Mace had seen Qui-Gon through many things in their lives
together as Padawans, Knights, friends and lovers, but none had
affected him so deeply as this. For himself, it seemed, Qui-Gon
could bear the unbearable and accept the unacceptable, all with
Jedi-like grace and serenity. But Qui-Gon's guilt over his
padawan's deception slowly ate away at him and Mace was greatly
troubled that a man as strong and formidable as Jedi Master
Qui-Gon Jinn could be consumed by his own despair so easily.
At Mace's suggestion, Qui-Gon allowed the deception to remain
between himself and Obi-Wan. He neither loosened nor tightened
the reins of their master/apprentice relationship, nor did he
confront Obi-Wan with the information given to him by Yoda. As
much as he hated to admit it, Qui-Gon knew his friend was
right. He needed time to meditate and to consider the best way
to handle the situation his padawan had unknowingly set before
him. It would do no good to make accusations against the
younger man without also having a plausible consequence and
solution at hand.
"One week," Qui-Gon negotiated with Mace. "I will wait and I
will meditate, but I will not allow this to go on for longer
than a week. I cannot bear it." He stopped, his face suddenly a
mask of pain. "And neither can Obi-Wan."
Although he was loathe to do it, Qui-Gon allowed the charade to
continue. But while Mace had said to leave Obi-Wan to his own
devices, he had said nothing about leaving him unobserved. Thus
began Qui-Gon's evening ritual. After night meal and
meditation, he went silently about the Temple in search of his
padawan.
The first evening Qui-Gon trailed Obi-Wan, he found him in the
cafeteria, alone and apparently studying. Bent over the
datapad, his long braid brushing the side of his cheek, the
young man looked many times his true age. Was the burden he
bore so great? Sighing sadly, Qui-Gon left him, knowing it
would likely be hours before his young one made his way back to
their shared quarters.
The second night Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan endlessly walking the
Temple grounds, as if he could not find a use for the excess
energies that coursed through his body. Qui-Gon could feel the
energy, wondered at its cause, but would not risk penetrating
his padawan's shields in the name of curiosity.
Disguising his presence and tracking Obi-Wan was easier than
Qui-Gon had imagined. The Force provided a powerful cloak, but
weighed against the strength of their training bond Obi-Wan
should have at least been aware of something. And yet he
seemed oblivious. The thought bothered Qui-Gon deeply. Obi-Wan,
who could sense his Master's presence even in his sleep, was
getting careless...opening himself to grave danger in the wrong
situation.
And it was not just during the nighttime that Obi-Wan was
distracted and vulnerable. Now that he knew what to look for,
Qui-Gon could see it in his Padawan's daily training exercises.
A minute mental error here, a quick cover-up for a small
mis-step there.
As thorough as Obi-Wan usually was about his performance,
Qui-Gon wondered how he had missed all of the small
imperfections he was now witnessing. Had they been there all
along, or was it just now that his apprentice was wearing down,
his exhaustion at continuing the ruse chipping away at his
reserves?
Obi-Wan was clearly distracted. Mere months ago, his
meditations and training katas had been nothing short of
perfection. Now they were uneasy...flawed. Despite Obi-Wan's
valiant efforts, his quiet demeanor and the dark circles under
his eyes told Qui-Gon exactly what he needed to know.
Not for the first time, Qui-Gon violently cursed his extreme
short-sightedness-no, blindness-in the matter.
Mace couldn't stop the melancholy feeling that swept through
him each time he lay with Qui-Gon. It should not have been him
in bed with the Jedi master. It should have been someone
younger, more vibrant than he. It should have been Obi-Wan.
It was as if Qui-Gon could feel the need that gnawed at him,
Mace thought, but didn't know where the feelings originated or
what to do with them. When they did speak of Obi-Wan, things
always came back to the padawan's 'betrayal', and Mace knew
Qui-Gon was hurting fiercely. Something had to be done-and
soon.
On the third evening it was Mace, not Qui-Gon, who found
Obi-Wan first.
"Padawan Kenobi? Are you well?"
Mace knew he'd startled the young man, knew Obi-Wan had not
heard or sensed his approach.
Obi-Wan's body tensed, his head coming up with a jerk. From
where he sat on the practice room floor, apparently nursing a
number of wounds, he looked at Mace with wide eyes.
"Master Windu! I..." Obi-Wan seemed at a loss; whether he was
considering if he should tell the truth or just wholly
embarrassed at being 'caught', Mace could not tell.
Mace stepped closer to the figure on the floor.
"Those are 'saber burns, Padawan," he said, stating the
obvious. "Quite severe-and quite painful, I daresay. Have you
been sparring with someone?" Mace looked around, as if
searching for a possible partner, then turned back to the
padawan.
"Um...no, Master. I'm sorry. I was only...I was...practicing
one of my katas..." Obi-Wan's words tumbled out as he visibly
wilted under the older man's scrutiny. "Alone."
Mace's voice was stern as his eyes swept over burnt hands,
singed hair, charred and ripped tunic and leggings. "You were
attempting something this dangerous alone, Padawan?"
The deepness and the sheer number of burns upon the
apprentice's arms and legs left Mace with little need to act
surprised. He truly was concerned for the boy's state of mind.
"It was an advanced kata, Master," Obi-Wan offered wanly, his
face pale. "I wanted to learn it...to perfect it...as a
g...gift to my master." He stopped, as if saying more would
only compound his troubles.
Mace could have wept, so great was the pain and intensity in
that voice. Wept for an apprentice who only wanted to please
his master. Wept for an apprentice who would give of himself
this way, physically and mentally, to have something precious
to share with his master.
Something niggled at his brain then, some stray thought, an
idea he couldn't quite grasp. It was as if... as if... ...as
if Obi-Wan could feel the need that gnawed at him, but didn't
know where the feelings originated or what to do with
them... His thoughts for Qui-Gon from the night before came
back to him in a rush that nearly took his breath away. Their
love for each other was so painfully obvious...to everyone but
themselves. Obi-Wan was his master's Padawan, that much
was certain.
[Mace?]
Qui-Gon's voice was suddenly in Mace's mind, and he had to
school his features to be sure Obi-Wan would not know. The link
between them wasn't much anymore, and only worked at short
distances or when they were in close physical...contact.
[Mace?] The voice came again. [Is there a problem? I've been
looking for Obi-Wan and I thought I felt...]
Mace knew that Qui-Gon was mere meters from the practice room
door. It would do Obi-Wan no good to be found this way by two
masters-especially if one were his own.
He could feel Qui-Gon quiet his thoughts, focusing on his
apprentice. To save him the trouble, Mace allowed him to see
Obi-Wan as he was seeing him.
[Mace! For Force sake, what are you playing at? Obi-Wan has
been hurt?!] Qui-Gon's mind voice was a mix of outrage and
concern. [I will not be...]
[Qui-Gon, stop!] Mace thought back to him before the man could
take another step. [This is neither the time nor the place for
a confrontation. Remain outside, if you wish, but please let me
handle this. Please.]
Mace felt a prickle of uncertainty from Qui-Gon. Allowing
himself to smile through the link, Mace diffused the situation
with humor.
[I'm about to do my best 'You've Disappointed a Jedi Master and
Council Member' speech, old friend...and it's written as a
monologue. You and I will talk later, you have my word.
Mace could feel Qui-Gon relax, although he was still concerned
for his padawan.
[I'm his master, Mace.] Qui-Gon insisted. [And I've let him
down too often these past months. I must talk to him...]
He took two steps closer to the door.
[Qui-Gon,] Mace said, [I love you. You know that. And you know
that I would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. Please
trust me enough to allow me to confront your padawan. I have a
somewhat different...perspective...and I think that's what
Obi-Wan needs right now. He needs to be caught, but not by
someone who will offer him comfort and sympathy.]
He could feel that Qui-Gon was torn between taking control or
turning it over.
[The comfort will come later,] Mace told him. [And you
will be the one who is there for him then.]
Qui-Gon remained where he was.
[Thank you,] Mace thought back. [You have my assurance that
Obi-Wan has not been seriously injured. He's just managed to
get in a bit over his head...not unlike his master was prone to
do at this age...]
Mace smiled inwardly at Qui-Gon's indignant hmmph.
Bracing himself, Mace pulled his shields up tightly, feeling
Qui-Gon unconsciously do the same, before turning his full
attention once again to Obi-Wan.
"Padawan," Mace began, knowing Qui-Gon was close enough to hear
them without the use of either bond. "I do not believe your
master would be pleased to see what has taken place here
tonight."
Obi-Wan physically flinched.
"And while it may be several years before your knighting,
this," Mace called Obi-Wan's tossed-aside 'saber and crumpled
cloak to his hand and stepped forward to present them neatly to
their owner, "is not likely the way you will want yourself to
be seen, by anyone, before-or after-that day."
If it were possible, Obi-Wan went a shade paler.
Mace's voice grew quiet, almost gentle. "But there are times
when we all lose sight of our own capabilities and
limits...from padawans all the way up to Jedi masters..."
Obi-Wan kept his face carefully neutral, but Mace could feel
his surprise at not being reported or taken to task for his
behavior.
"Clean yourself up, Padawan, and seek out a healer for any
injuries you are not able to heal on your own. Then see to it
that you head directly back to your quarters to rest." He
paused. "I will not make mention of this to your master, but I
believe some hard meditation is in order. And I trust that the
likes of this will not happen again."
It was not really a lie, Mace told himself. He would not
need to mention it to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon already knew. Sensing
that the conversation was nearing an end, Mace felt Qui-Gon
take his leave, mind uneasy, spirit troubled.
Obi-Wan scrambled up, wincing in pain, creating the semblance
of a bow in Mace's direction.
"Yes, Master. And...thank you, Master," he said gratefully. And
with that he beat a hasty retreat.
An hour later, when Obi-Wan returned to quarters, healed as
well as he was able under his own waning Force power, he found
that his master was, gratefully, already in bed. Obi-Wan barely
made it to his own before collapsing.
The day after Obi-Wan's encounter with Mace, Qui-Gon chose to
keep his padawan with him. With thoughts of the night before
still swirling in his mind, he found that he was not yet ready
to face another of Obi-Wan's evening escapades. Devising a
story of extra time needed for meditation and practice on the
Rhythms of Water kata for an upcoming competition, Qui-Gon
easily kept his padawan busy until it was time for bed.
Qui-Gon could feel that Obi-Wan was cautious, more than likely
expecting his master to have heard about the evening before.
But underlying that, Qui-Gon also felt that Obi-Wan was more
content...relieved...to be spending this extended time with his
master, no matter what the reason for it. The thought of his
padawan that desperate for his attentions made Qui-Gon's
stomach clench.
The fifth evening was the most difficult. After searching more
than an hour, both on foot and with the Force, the Master found
his apprentice holed up in a back corridor of a long-unused
section of the Temple. The draft blowing through was enough to
chill Qui-Gon, even through his thick night cloak, and he was
certain his padawan must have been numb with the cold. But the
young man sleeping propped against the cold cement wall,
normally so sensitive to temperature changes, showed no signs
of noticing.
It was on that night that Qui-Gon nearly gave in to his aching
heart's wishes, wanting nothing more than to gather the young
man into his arms and carry him back to their rooms. And had
Obi-Wan still been four or five years of age, Qui-Gon knew he
would have done just that, regardless of how badly Obi-Wan had
behaved or what he had done. But Obi-Wan was no longer a child
and Qui-Gon, who found himself reminded more and more of his
own increasing years, felt as if he had aged a decade in the
past several days.
"Mace...Mace...now..."
Face crimson with passion, his throbbing erection stimulated by
his own hand, Qui-Gon's desperate pleas were anything but those
of an old man. As a strangled moan escaped his throat, the Jedi
master's back arched involuntarily, muscular legs spreading
impossibly wider in open invitation.
"Please, Mace! NOW, please! More! Harder! I need you
now..."
Qui-Gon's breathless shouts for release filled the room,
echoing off the bare walls, but were all but ignored as the
younger master thrust inside him, again and again, seemingly
tireless in his quest for pleasure.
"Damn you!" Qui-Gon cursed, with the little breath he had left.
"Have pity on an elder! End my suffering!"
"Elder! Elder?" It was difficult to tell whether Mace
was reprimanding him or mocking him, but neither got Qui-Gon
what he wished.
As suddenly as he'd begun, Mace stopped his thrusts, his
breath coming to him in harsh gasps. In one smooth movement, he
lowered Qui-Gon's legs from his shoulders and allowed himself
to sink fully into the taut body beneath him.
The sudden change in position elicited a deep groan from
Qui-Gon, both at the pleasure of being so completely filled and
at the pain of incompletion. "What do you want from me?" he
growled at the man above him, unable to keep his voice from
betraying his need.
Mace didn't answer. Instead, he began a quest, searching out
Qui-Gon's most sensitive spots. If Qui-Gon would not take
charge, he would make him take charge. Obi-Wan's future
depended on it...whether Qui-Gon could see that right now or
not.
Resting his head against Qui-Gon's damp chest, Mace took one
rosy nipple into his hot mouth, laving it tenderly. He did the
same with the other nipple, worrying it with sharp teeth until
the fine line of pleasure began to blur into pain. Swiftly, he
moved up to capture Qui-Gon's mouth with his own. Any protests
the older Jedi made were literally swallowed up as he bit and
sucked lightly at the other's lips and tongue.
When he released the mouth, needing to breathe, he was treated
to several choice words that somehow seemed out of place,
coming from such beautiful lips. Mace took in Qui-Gon's strong
heaving shoulders, face damp with sweat, soft, flowing hair,
fanned out around his face, shining against blue silk sheets
that matched his eyes. Force! The man looked like a living
angel.
"Tell. me. what. you. want." The words, ground out like sand on
glass, broke Mace from his reverie.
"I want you to ride me," Mace told him simply. The look of
surprised lust on the Qui-Gon's face was exactly the reaction
he'd been hoping for.
"I want you to look deep into my eyes, Qui-Gon Jinn," Mace told
him, eyelids lowered in what could have been either seduction
or shyness. "And I want you to take me deep inside your body.
Can you do that?"
The words attacked Qui-Gon's fevered brain more powerfully than
any drug. With only a moment's pause, Mace Windu was taken into
strong arms and flipped onto his back as if he were nothing
more than a child's plaything.
Qui-Gon began to move then, sliding slickly up and down the
dark, weeping cock. Spurred by the succulent feast before him,
Qui-Gon flawlessly resumed his partner's earlier cadence,
gasping as large hands reached up to capture his already
far-too-stimulated hardness, pumping it in wild counter-rhythm.
Their climax, when it finally came, was mind-shattering. Both
men shouted their release simultaneously, convulsing helplessly
with the aftershocks, Qui-Gon collapsing into Mace's arms.
"What is with you tonight?" Qui-Gon demanded, as soon as
coherent thought returned to him. Confusion clouded his
features. "Not that this...change wasn't...interesting, mind
you."
A shiver went through Qui-Gon despite the fact that his skin
was still overly warm.
"Riding you like that was very hot, Mace. But..." he
paused, considering his words. "I'm not sure I understand what
just happened here. This isn't like you-like us-at all. You've
been going about this like a man who..."
Realization, when it hit, hit hard, sending Qui-Gon into
startled silence.
"Qui-Gon, I..." Mace began.
The air seemed to crackle with Force energy, as Qui-Gon reached
out with his mind, struggling to interpret what he was feeling
from the man beside him.
"You're leaving me...?" It was, at first, a frantic
question. Then, more certain of what he had sensed, Qui-Gon
stated, "You're leaving me." The words were a mixture of shock
and disbelief and the next question was out of his mouth before
he could prevent it. "For whom?"
Mace groaned inwardly. They hadn't been seriously in love for
many years now. It had been only casual sex-love between two
good friends-for more years than he could remember. Why, then,
did the man have to choose this moment to show that he still
relied on the relationship between them?
"No, Qui-Gon," Mace began again. "I..."
"You are," Qui-Gon said with certainty. "I felt it from you
near the end...felt you were approaching this like someone who
knows it's going to be his last time." His deep voice deepened
even further, inflections of another betrayal lacing the edges.
"You know we're not going to do this again..."
Mace had only meant to bring a few things to the dense Jedi's
attention...not to hurt him this way.
"I'm not leaving you, Qui-Gon," he said carefully, taking the
elder Jedi's face between his hands and not allowing the other
man to pull away. "*You are leaving me."
Qui-Gon's head did snap up then, jerking free of the gentle
grasp. "I'm what?"
Dark brown eyes bore into electric blue ones.
"Think about it, Qui-Gon. You and I had something special once.
A strong bond. A lover's bond. But there is someone else in
your life, now...someone to whom that bond belongs. And I would
be derelict in my friendship with you if I stood by and allowed
that other bond to crumble...merely because you do not
recognize it for what it is."
"I..."
"The tie is so strong, even I can sense it," Mace told
Qui-Gon. "You must be able to feel it. Have you closed
yourself off to the possibility for so long that you are no
longer aware of it?"
"Obi-Wan..." The name was like a prayer on the Jedi's lips.
"Yes, Qui-Gon." Who else? he thought in exasperation.
"Can't you see? He's communicating his love for you the only
way he knows how: by not reaching out to others, he's
reaching out to you. And you want so badly to love
him...but your body uses me in his stead. Night after night you
give your love to me...when it's Obi-Wan who's so badly in need
of it. You waited through his childhood and through his early
adulthood. Tell him-show him!-how you feel, now, before
any more time slips away."
The desperation on Qui-Gon's face made Mace's chest tighten.
His eyes burned with unshed tears at the other man's
vulnerability.
"You need to share your feelings with him, Qui-Gon, before it's
too late. I cannot help you go to him, but I will help you in
any other way I can.
Sitting alone on a cold, stone bench at the edge of the
meditation gardens, Obi-Wan shivered in the cool evening air.
He'd told Qui-Gon he was going to be having a late dinner with
Padawan Ta-Geln and Knight Reyla-Nil, and it was far too early
for him to return to their quarters. Of course, with as much
time as his master had been spending with Master Windu lately,
Obi-Wan didn't think there was much chance of Qui-Gon actually
being in their quarters at this time of night. Still...
Suppressing a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of deceiving
his master yet again, Obi-Wan took a reinforcing breath.
Shedding his robe, he spread it carefully over the dampening
grass. Now the breeze went, unimpeded, through his light shirt,
chilling his skin, but he knelt down in meditative pose, and
dutifully attempted to block the outside world from his
thoughts.
Force! He was in this act of his so deeply, that it was
hard to tell where the 'illusion' Obi-Wan ended and the 'real'
Obi-Wan began. He hadn't intended for it to go this far. He'd
really thought that after a week or two Qui-Gon would give up
the idea of 'socializing' his padawan and simply allow them to
resume their previous...relationship.
Obi-Wan had been perfectly content to train with his
master...to just be with his master. He'd never felt
comfortable around those his own age, feeling awkward, out of
place; he'd been too far ahead of them in his physical and
mental skills and felt too far behind them in his communication
and social skills.
With Qui-Gon he could do what he most wanted to do and be what
he most wanted to be: a Padawan training to become a Jedi
Knight, under the careful instruction and watchful eye of the
Temple's most revered Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. It had never
seemed like too much to ask: to be allowed to be with the man
who had been chosen for him on his path to becoming a Jedi. But
things had gotten so complicated...
A sudden wave of distress hit Obi-Wan, and he opened his eyes,
confused. Focussing on the emotion, he felt soul-searing pain.
Someone was hurting his master! Not a physical hurt, but a
mental one-which, to a Jedi, was far worse. Standing up in a
daze, Obi-Wan blindly plucked up his cloak from the ground and
fled inside the Temple.
Once he was well-ensconced within the Temple corridors, Obi-Wan
made himself stop. Head back, eyes closed, he
listened...listened with his mind and his heart, listened
through the training bond he had with his master.
Guilt. Shame. Sadness. Longing. He 'heard' all of the emotions
clearly in his master's mind. And as a loyal Padawan, drawn to
the suffering of his Master, he once again took off running,
following the ebbs and tides of his master's
life-force...straight to Master Windu's cabin door.
The signatures he sensed inside the room before him were
different than those he'd sensed from a distance. Qui-Gon's
aura had the distinct impression of something very akin to an
uneasy peace and Master Windu was projecting nothing but
comfort. Whatever Obi-Wan had felt from his master earlier was
gone...perhaps soothed from him by the man whose bed he shared.
Having been earlier determined to rush in and save his master
from whatever-or whomever-threatened, Obi-Wan now gave up with
a resigned sigh and a shrug of his shoulders. Moving slowly
back down the quiet hallway he found himself alone with his own
thoughts once again.
Obi-Wan's presence outside Master Windu's door did not escape
the notice of either Mace or Qui-Gon. The waves of bitter
despair which saturated his Force signature, hung in the air
long after his departure.
"Something must be done," Mace said, eyes still on the door,
thoughts on the young man who was no longer behind it.
"Tonight," Qui-Gon agreed, already up and heading for the
shower. "It must be tonight. The time has come for truth
between us."
"Obi-Wan."
The weather was not out of season but not even the hood of
Qui-Gon's cloak could keep the cool breeze from swirling
through his loose, shower-damp hair. Shivering, he tucked his
hands deeper inside the folds of his cloak.
Obi-Wan had not gone far after leaving the Temple, but Qui-Gon
had nearly missed spotting him, curled as he was beneath the
low-hanging branches of the weeping loria tree. He called
Obi-Wan's name again.
/I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry./
Obi-Wan's arms and legs moved restlessly, rumpling the cloak
beneath him. Fingers clenched and unclenched, eyelids
flickered. Qui-Gon sighed. His padawan was dreaming.
Qui-Gon knelt in the grass beside his apprentice and put a hand
on one slim shoulder.
Disturbed by the dream's continuation, Qui-Gon spoke more
forcefully.
"Obi-Wan, wake up."
/No, please don't. I.../ Obi-Wan slipped from his dream.
"Please, Mast..." And into wakefulness. "M-Master?"
Obi-Wan was fully awake now. Awake, sitting up, and looking at
his Master-no longer a dream, but reality-with wide,
terror-filled eyes.
"All is well, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him gently. "You were
having a dream."
Obi-Wan looked almost sick at the thought of his master
witnessing that particular dream.
"I was meditating, Master," he said in explanation. "But I was
so tired...and the gardens are always so peaceful this time of
night..." He stopped suddenly, as if he had given away too
much.
Qui-Gon let the feelings and tones flow around and through him,
but did not respond. He had only one goal. Brushing his fingers
across his padawan's forehead in a Force touch meant to steady
him and calm his fears, Qui-Gon allowed his hand to drop slowly
and got to his feet. Concentrating on Obi-Wan until the amber
eyes met his own, Qui-Gon offered his apprentice a hand up.
"We have much to discuss, Padawan," he told the younger man.
After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan grasped Qui-Gon's hand,
allowing himself to be pulled from the grass in the strong,
firm grip, and to be led silently back to their shared
quarters.
They sat in the main room, Qui-Gon studying Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan
studying the carpet.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon finally managed to begin. "I believe I have
handled things badly..."
Obi-Wan's head came up as he met his master's eyes in
shame-faced surprise.
"No, master," he said with earnest conviction. "It is I who
have behaved badly..." The color which had been climbing slowly
up Obi-Wan's neck rose to color his cheeks and ears.
"I am the only one who is to blame here," Qui-Gon told his
apprentice firmly. "I am your master, and if there are barriers
that lie between us then I am responsible. I should have known
what was going on...long before it got this far out of hand."
"Will you..." There was fear in the padawan's voice. "Will you
ask for another apprentice?"
"Oh, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with sadness at the other's sudden
insecurity. "Never. You are my apprentice, the light of
my life." He studied the young man before him for a long time.
"Would you ask for another master?"
"No!" The answer was quick and vehement. "Never! All I want
is... All I've ever wanted is..." Obi-Wan's voice wavered and
dropped off.
"What, Obi-Wan? What have you wanted?" Qui-Gon went equally
mute, awaiting his padawan's answer.
"You."
There was so much love and want and need in that one word that
it left Qui-Gon weak in the knees.
"Obi-Wan?" he managed to murmur.
"All I have ever wanted is you," Obi-Wan said again, this time
with a bit more strength . "As a master...as a companion...and
as...more." Obi-Wan's voice quivered, ashamed of the feelings
aroused by the single thought.
"Oh, Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
In one movement Qui-Gon was on his feet and in the next he was
seated beside Obi-Wan on the sofa, his padawan's face between
his hands. As Qui-Gon looked into the ever-changing eyes,
Obi-Wan suddenly dissolved the shields which kept his master
from his mind.
In a flash of pictures and thoughts, Qui-Gon saw everything:
A young Obi-Wan craving the attention of someone, anyone,
who would love him and nurture his heart's wish of becoming a
Jedi. A teenaged Obi-Wan, tirelessly devoted to his training
and to his master, whom he revered as almost a deity and looked
to for praise and guidance. An almost-twenty Obi-Wan, trying to
be like the other padawans and knights, and failing miserably,
in his own mind. An Obi-Wan trying to balance his drive to
succeed with his master's wishes and his realization that he
couldn't be all things, do all things, and please all of those
around him. An early-twenties Obi-Wan, confused about what to
do and what to believe...feeling unable to speak to his master
about it and unable to act upon newly awakened feelings.
Feelings for his master...
Qui-Gon stopped the ideas and emotions mentally rushing at him
by pulling his padawan into his arms and covering the sweet
mouth in a long, expressive kiss. A bit surprised at first,
Obi-Wan was quickly swept into the kiss, opening his mouth
wider, responding to the most intimate touch he had ever shared
with his master.
/What else would you like to share, Obi-Wan?/ his master's
voice flowed like molten lava into his mind.
/Everything,/ Obi-Wan answered back, growing more lightheaded
and breathless by the moment. /Everything I am is yours/ he
told Qui-Gon. /And everything I will become. Please, instruct
me in the Jedi ways of loving as you have always instructed me
in the ways of the Jedi. I want to learn. From you./
Qui-Gon's muscles turned to jelly as he was consumed by the
love he felt from his padawan.
/Jedi love runs deep,/ he told Obi-Wan. /And you have always
had that ability. Even as a child you loved unconditionally.
And Jedi love is eternal. The bonds a Jedi creates last
forever. Although the nature of the bonds may shift and change
over time, they will remain as part of the Jedi's soul for all
of eternity./
There was hesitation from Obi-Wan. /So Master Windu.../
/...and I will always have a link to each other, yes,/ he
answered his padawan's unasked question. /But, then, a Jedi has
many such links, forged in a lifetime, and the links and bonds
only serve to add to an individual's strength and character./
/Will you.../ Obi-Wan hesitated, not wishing to appear too
bold.
/Will I what, Padawan?/ Qui-Gon looked at his padawan in
concern, fearing Obi-Wan had been made uncomfortable by talk of
his master's past.
/Will you...kiss me again?/
It was said with a sweet shyness so sensual it made Qui-Gon's
mind disintegrate. His mouth was possessing his padawan's even
before he became aware that he had moved to do so. Obi-Wan
moaned his contentment.
/Obi-Wan?/
/Yes, Master?/
/If you wish this to stop, you have only to say so.../
He immediately had Obi-Wan's full-indignant-attention.
/And if I wish it to continue...or to go further,
Master...?/
/Then you only have to say so.../
/I wish it...to go further, Master...Much further.../
The room was suddenly far too hot and in a shower of boots,
tunics, leggings, and belts both master and apprentice were
quickly unclothed. And though he never would have believed
yesterday that it could happen, naked in his master's arms felt
like the most natural place in the galaxy to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon had not felt such joy fill his padawan in a very long
time. It infused the young man, made his very aura dance. How
could he have missed something this electrical...this
alive?
/Shall we move to the bedroom, my Obi-Wan?/ Qui-Gon questioned,
feeling his padawan's growing hardness pressing against his
thigh and knowing things would soon be too far gone for
transference to another room.
"No," Obi-Wan said aloud. "I want you...need you...here. Now."
Reaching down, he grasped the sleep-couch's underpanel and with
a click the back collapsed until it lay even with the
rest of the couch, providing an area twice as large as before.
"Very nice, Padawan," Qui-Gon said with a smile. "Now, what
shall we do with all this extra space?"
Obi-Wan sent his master a clear and extremely detailed picture
of exactly what he wanted to do.
/Obi-Wan!/ Qui-Gon's mind exclaimed almost before he could
think about it. /We can't.../
"Why not, Master?" Obi-Wan demanded.
/Because.../
"Because you still believe me to be a child? Because you see me
as some fragile virgin who cannot yet be exposed to this?" The
bitterness was back in Obi-Wan's tone and the hurt of Qui-Gon's
apparent rejection hung like a black cloud over the room. "I
may be a virgin in...this...but I am not entirely
inexperienced..."
"Obi-Wan...no. No." He reached out for a better grip on the
apprentice, but Obi-Wan moved quickly out of his arms and off
of the couch.
"Obi-Wan, it's not like that at all," Qui-Gon insisted, sitting
up to watch his padawan pace the small room. "Believe me, I..."
"Believe you? Believe you? You said we could be
together. You asked me what I wished to do. Yet when I
answer you, in honesty, you deny me!"
"It's not what you think, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon stood up and
crossed the room, laying a hand on Obi-Wan's bare shoulder.
"But what you are asking to do is...not the way I would choose
for our relationship to begin. I have caused you enough pain
already, in mind and spirit. I do not want to add physical pain
to the list."
Obi-Wan turned to meet his master's gaze, eyes wet, cheeks
already glistening with tears.
"I have felt the physical pain, Master. I have suffered
through dreams and nightmares for months now...longing for you.
I have watched you eat and talk and meditate with everyone but
me.
"I have gone...elsewhere...to avoid seeing you-feeling you!-in
someone else's arms. In someone else's bed." Obi-Wan's voice
caught as he struggled to breathe. "In someone else's body. Can
our physical joining be more painful than that?"
Panting, Obi-Wan fell to his knees, overcome by memories.
Marveling, again, at his padawan's keen intuition and
resiliency of spirit, Qui-Gon managed to stumble to the
washroom on unsteady legs, emerging with a tube of first-aid
ointment. The lube and massage oil were at Mace's, he recalled
with regret; they just never used this cabin for...that.
Returning to where Obi-Wan knelt forlornly on the floor,
Qui-Gon collected his padawan with a small amount of help from
the Force, and carried him to the sleep couch once again.
Depositing him gently, he spread the young man's legs carefully
and came to rest between them.
Force, he was beautiful! The flat stomach, tight, muscled
thighs and thick, swollen shaft just cried out for attention.
Squeezing a large amount of the ointment onto the palms of his
hands, the Jedi master put his hands together to spread it
evenly and then put his hands upon his padawan, inserting a
finger.
Only then did Obi-Wan open his eyes.
"Master!" he cried, arching his back at the sensation.
"Tell me if it hurts, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him firmly. "I do
not wish to cause you undue pain."
"You...won't..." Obi-Wan gasped. The feeling of being entered
and stretched by something as simple as his master's finger
made his blood run hot and cold. "More..."
More cool gel at his entrance and then something thicker was
inserted into his opening. Obi-Wan moaned.
"This is only two fingers," Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan. "I will not
go through with this until you can relax your body enough to
take in at least three. I meant what I said. I will not
hurt you further than I have already."
Again, just the talk of what was being put into his body was
enough to melt Obi-Wan's insides, and he managed to calm down
and block out the worst of the discomfort, to accept what
Qui-Gon was offering.
In and out of Obi-Wan's slippery back passage two long fingers
slid. Back and forth along the path made slick by the ointment
the fingers traveled, stroking his prostate with the most
delicate and erotic of touches. By the time Qui-Gon added the
third finger, Obi-Wan was nearly delirious with pleasure,
sweating profusely and mentally pleading to his master for
more.
Removing the thrusting digits, Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan's hard,
slick shaft and jerked it in his hand. Once, twice, three
times...and was rewarded by his padawan's scream of release as
he spurted hot pearly cum between them. Obi-Wan came and came,
lifting his hips from the couch in desperation, throwing his
head from side to side.
"Why...?" Obi-Wan panted, winded from his hard release.
"Why did I let you come?" Qui-Gon asked back. "A spring can
only be wound so far before it must release, my padawan, and
you were in desperate need of just such a release." His eyes
crinkled with humor.
"But I wanted..."
"I am aware of what you want, my Obi-Wan, and you shall have
it. But there is nothing like what just happened to relax a
body-and I want you to be as relaxed as you can. Your mind must
be clear of any fear or apprehension."
Qui-Gon ran slick hands across Obi-Wan's stomach, down into the
curls below, and off to the sides to his thighs. Letting his
large hands travel repeatedly from the tops of Obi-Wan's leg up
to his sides and back down, he felt his apprentice fall into
his touches. Mace could still recall the first time he had been
penetrated, and while he, too, had wanted it badly, it had been
much more of a shock to his young body than anyone could have
prepared him for. And while he knew Obi-Wan wanted this...
"DO IT, Master," Obi-Wan said through tension-clenched teeth,
as if he were aware of his master's thoughts. "Please. I. Want.
You. Now."
Taking the time to coat his own throbbing arousal liberally
with the gel, Qui-Gon placed himself carefully at his padawan's
entrance and slid inside. He immediately felt Obi-Wan tense,
felt tissues that were no longer relaxed begin to tear. And he
knew exactly when the euphoric haze of pleasure was breached by
the shock of intrusion.
But there was no other way to do it, and so Qui-Gon continued
to push, breaking back through the discomfort, stroking places
in Obi-Wan's body reachable only in male to male loving.
Crying out in pain and pleasure, Obi-Wan welcomed his master
into his body. Wanting to weep at the sheer ecstasy of the
feelings flowing through him, Obi-Wan found he could do nothing
more than lie back and attempt to continue breathing.
Fully ensconced, Qui-Gon held himself still and studied his
padawan. Face flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, it was
difficult to tell whether Obi-Wan was lost in the feeling or
overcome by it.
"Obi-Wan?"
Glazed eyes opened, slowly focussing on Qui-Gon.
/Yes, I want this./ Obi-Wan finally managed. /Please./ The idea
of what was about to happen made Obi-Wan's cock throb
painfully.
Qui-Gon grew concerned as his padawan moaned, but as he scanned
Obi-Wan he found nothing but serenity and a growing need which
seemed to double with each passing second.
Bracing his arms at Obi-Wan's sides, Qui-Gon slowly withdrew,
the cool air like small pinpricks on his exposed cock.
Preparing to thrust again, he froze as Obi-Wan hissed.
/Obi-Wan!/
Obi-Wan was panting, trying to center himself and to release
the pain of that one, small movement. Force, it burned! He
hadn't thought it would hurt this way. Loving was supposed to
be wonderful...beautiful...
Moving one hand to Obi-Wan's penis, Qui-Gon stroked down,
soothing him.
/Relax, Obi-Wan/
Obi-Wan surged into the touch, arching up toward the hot hand.
/Qui-Gon!/ His senses reeled.
/Shhhh.../ The hand began to move up and down, Qui-Gon gentling
Obi-Wan's body as he gentled his mind.
Slowly, Qui-Gon allowed himself to slip back inside the tight
heat.
"Master!"
The cry held a different tone than before. Qui-Gon pulled out
once more and when there was no sign of discomfort from
Obi-Wan, he thrust in again. And again.
"Oh, Master! More... It feels so...good..."
The earlier pain all but a memory, Obi-Wan's mind swam.
This was what he had longed for.
With Qui-Gon's thrusts coming harder and faster, Obi-Wan lost
himself. His body, no longer under its own power, rocked up to
meet Qui-Gon's movements.
/I love you, my master!/ Obi-Wan thought through their link.
As he plunged deeper inside his apprentice's body, Qui-Gon's
voice was tender.
/And I cannot remember a time when I did not love you, my
Obi-Wan./
It was the ultimate combination of physical and mental
pleasure and Obi-Wan thought he might go out of his mind with
just the thought of it.
With a thunderous cry, Qui-Gon came, flooding Obi-Wan's insides
with his seed. Hips lifting from the couch in the helpless
abandon of a second orgasm, Obi-Wan thrust against Qui-Gon
convulsively until both were weak from their efforts.
Content and finally at peace with themselves and one another,
the master and his apprentice fell into an exhausted,
soul-healing sleep.
Across the Temple, deep in meditation, Mace Windu smiled as he
felt the explosive release and the subsequent joining of the
two hearts.
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