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Summary: Set after "A Matter of Consequence and Quailla Juice",
in this much more serious sequel, Qui-Gon questions the wisdom
of his and Obi-Wan's relationship.
Disclaimer: In the beginning, there was nothing. And it was
deemed that nothing was pretty boring and a lot of stuff
happened which eventually led up to George Lucas creating Star
Wars. (OK I'm summarizing a bit) So, to cut this short, over a
period of time he added planets and critters like wookies and
hutts and whatever Yoda is. And he threw in some human's
because it's easier to find actors that way. And the poor boy
still can't rest because he has to write Episode
II…Anyway, he created it, he owns it and I make no
monetary sums from this endeavor.
Author's Note & Warnings: OK, light S/M here, in the form
of, well, spankings. But, IMHO everyone who gets a spanking is
well deserving of it! This is, strangely enough, the sequel to
"A Matter of Consequence and Quailla Juice". I say strangely
because it is -not- as funny as its predecessor and in fact
took an extreme turn to the angst. Don't worry too much, I'm
sure it will all work out in the end. Maybe.
In one corner of the throne room was an ornate birdcage, made
of clear Teelleen glass. Delicate swirls and spirals,
gracefully swooped around the birds in a seeming waterfall of
crystal that looked as if the brush of a finger would destroy
it, never mind the tiny chirruping birds that perched within.
An illusion of fragility, Teelleen glass, once it hardened, was
practically unbreakable.
Qui-Gon Jinn studied that cage, focusing on its beauty, the
shimmer it cast whenever light touched it, reflecting a thready
prism from the sunlight that poured through the dozens of
stained glass windows that lined the walls of the throne room.
Carefully memorized each curve and twist, so that he would not
focus on the words being said around him. With neat precision
he erected a transparent wall between him and the world around
him, his own cage of Teelleen glass that he could see through
but that no one else could penetrate. It was the only way he
could hold onto his rage.
Head bowed in respect, Obi-Wan stood before the Monarch of
Hazpolla. He listened to and acknowledged her heartfelt
gratitude with the solemn calmness that was expected of him.
Yet his mind was wandering elsewhere, more specifically at the
man who stood a few paces behind him. The very lack of emotion
emanating from Qui-Gon spoke of the turmoil that was surely
roiling beneath the surface and Obi-Wan was suddenly overcome
by weariness, it took great concentration not to sway on his
feet.
The queen rose then, clapped her hands and told the servant who
appeared to take the Honored Ones to sleeping quarters. The
Jedi bowed to the Queen, a handsome woman whose face was as of
yet unlined by the turmoil of her planet, and in the moment of
rising Obi-Wan felt Qui- Gon's eyes on him and briefly, he felt
it, barely checked waves of anger. Keeping his face bland, he
turned and followed the servant.
When they first entered their sleeping rooms it seemed his
master would seethe silently all night. He said nothing, simply
slid off his robe and hung it up. Obi-Wan had just shed his
robe and turned away when he was grabbed.
He found himself sprawled face down across Qui-Gon's lap, the
breath knocked from him and before he had a chance to question
or protest he was shocked into silence by the first blow.
It -hurt-, the flat of Qui-Gon's hand smacking down on his ass.
Hard. Again and again. He braced himself against the floor as
best he could, felt Qui-Gon's other arm like a band of steel
across his back, holding him there. But he didn't try to
escape, didn't fight or protest. He simply endured. And
endured. He could feel hot wetness leaking from the corners of
his eyes, knew that there were going to be bruises in the
morning and still he never made a sound, the room was silent
but for the harsh crack of blow after blow. Finally, when it
had become unbearable and he was close to struggling in spite
of himself it ended, as abruptly as it had begun. Qui-Gon
pushed him off his lap and Obi-Wan fell into a graceless heap
on the floor, pulling himself up to his knees to spare his
wounded posterior.
Qui-Gon had launched himself to his feet and was pacing, and
even now, his backside burning, Obi-Wan had to admire the grace
and fluidity of the man before him. It was strange and exotic
in so large a man, and with the burning pain there was another
flame within him and he shifted uncomfortably at the ache that
started.
"Feel better?" There was no acidity to his tone, though there
could have been. Obi-wan spoke mildly, as if he wasn't kneeling
on the floor, half-crouched forward from pain.
Qui-Gon faltered in mid-step, halting and staring at the young
man as if he'd never seen him before. In a way, he hadn't, not
like this. Cheeks flushed and slick with tears, eyes reddened.
But the gaze was clear and unwavering and Qui-Gon felt himself
flush, more because there was no accusation in that tone, only
soft concern.
"No. I don't." With a shuddering sigh Qui-Gon pressed a
trembling hand to his forehead, felt the heat emanating from
it, from the blows on his Padawan's backside. "I don't feel
better at all." He turned back to his Padawan and the memory of
what the young man had just done fluttered before his eyes,
again sparking anger within him. Without a word he turned and
left the room, ignoring Obi-Wan's startled questions. It was
either leave or drag the young man across his knees again and
he'd be damned as a Sith before he used Obi-Wan as an outlet
for his rage again, never mind that he was the cause of it.
His angry strides led him to the Palace gardens and he wandered
through them aimlessly, his mind swirling with turmoil.
In a darkened corner he all but threw himself to his knees,
then took a deep breath, forcing calm. He was acting like a
spoiled child and now he needed a clear mind. He closed his
eyes and tried to go through the Meditation of Clarity routine,
but again and again, a pair of eyes came into his mind. As he'd
seen them minutes ago, reddened and wet, as he'd seen them
earlier, looking up at him calmly in an excruciatingly short
moment that had lasted like an eternity in the darkest planes
of all the Hells.
Unwillingly, he let his mind return to the events earlier that
day. It had been unexpected to be sure, the assassination
attempt, and foolish on the part of the assassin, to attack the
Queen when there were two visiting Jedi diplomats in the
Palace. Qui-Gon had gone to the queen...
"Your Majesty!" His shout was drowned out by the panicked
commotion in the throne room. Pandemonium broke out, screams
and shrieks of confused terror for themselves and their
Monarch. The Queen had collapsed, was lying on the floor when
Qui-Gon reached her. She was dazed but unhurt. There was a
scorch mark on the wall, testimony to a very near miss indeed.
If she hadn't turned just when she did...
Qui-Gon lifted his head just in time to se his apprentice
running from the room and up a flight of stairs in the corner,
in pursuit of the Queen's attacker. With a mental curse at the
boy's impulsiveness he assured that the Queen was unharmed
before chasing after them.
He didn't see it, when he came out onto the roof it was too
late. He did not see the fight that had surely occurred, hadn't
seen the would- be assassin and his apprentice circling each
other, Obi-Wan reluctant for a killing blow, not because he was
unable but because if he killed the man there was no way of
knowing who had sent him. And just before Qui-Gon's echoing
steps carried him into the fight, the man knew he had run out
of time, he couldn't face two Jedi. In a last desperate move he
threw himself at Obi-Wan. The young Jedi had stumbled backwards
at the impact, the backs of his knees catching on the low wall,
tumbling both of them off.
That was what Qui-Gon had seen, his apprentice and the killer
falling backwards and time had stopped, it had seemed that he
moved as if the air had turned to ice water, the very blood
within him congealed and he knew he would never reach them in
time, that they would both fall to their deaths nearly a
hundred meters straight down.
And then time had restarted and in a desperate lunge he caught
Obi- Wan's hand and was nearly pulled off himself at the
combined weight of Obi-Wan and the assassin, who was clinging
to the young Jedi's leg. Qui-Gon had been reaching for the
Force, intending to levitate both men back onto the walkway. He
saw the blaster in the assassin's hand with a sense of
unreality, saw it leveling at his head. The other man was
apparently uncaring if he died as long as he took someone with
him and in that second Qui-Gon looked into Obi-Wan's eyes and
saw the calm determination there.
//No, no, Obi-Wan no, don't you -dare- no, no// "No!" He
shouted as his Padawan released his hand and he and the
intended killer both went into free fall. The terror of the
assassin and Obi-Wan's serenity both washed over him in a
crashing wave of emotion and he nearly collapsed as it combined
with his own despair. He couldn't look away, just watched in a
kind of horrified fascination as his Padawan, his friend, his
lover, fell to his death.
To see the young man twist in midair, to use the Force to
propel himself over and grab onto one of the ornate statues
that decorated the Palace walls was almost surreal,
anticlimactic as he was so sure, so intent on the young man's
death. Obi-Wan had barely fallen ten meters.
Deep gasping breaths came then and Qui-Gon realized that he had
forgotten to breathe. After he'd calmed himself sufficiently he
and his Padawan had used the Force to lift the younger man back
onto the roof.
And then the scene in the throne room, the queen thanking the
heroes that had saved her. Qui-Gon had barely been able to
listen; they hardly deserved the praise. The assassin had died
before they could question him, Obi-Wan had nearly been killed
and the entire situation had been a shamble.
Qui-Gon pulled back to himself, still kneeling in the queen's
gardens. What had Obi-Wan been thinking? Taking off after the
assassin alone had been foolishness enough and then nearly
killing himself and for what? No, the young man was far, far
too reckless. And if anyone was to blame for that it was
Qui-Gon.
Ever since they had become lovers on that most unusual mission
it had been interfering with their teaching relationship. He
was far too lenient, not demanding enough from his apprentice.
Obi-Wan apparently expected his Master to act differently now
that they were lovers and that was something that neither of
them could afford, lest the Council decide for them.
He shifted slightly, relieving the ache in his knees from
kneeling for so long. His mind drifted back to that mission, to
the warmth of holding his laughing Padawan in his arms, the way
Obi-Wan smelled, fresh and clean and faintly of soap...No. With
an effort he pushed those memories aside.
He should have trusted his first instincts when he had awoken
that day, to brush aside the situation and return to being
simply master and apprentice. That was his fault as well, he
was the master, he was responsible for this.
Then that was it, that was the root of the problem. Obviously
their becoming lovers had been a mistake and remaining so would
be a far worse one. And now it was up to him to rectify that
error in judgement.
With that he rose, stretching stiff muscles before leaving the
garden on swift feet.
He went back to their rooms with every intention of talking to
the young man, telling him that this relationship had been
wrong and trying to salvage whatever of their teaching bond
that he could. And if it were beyond repair he would find a new
master to train Obi-Wan. He ignored the heavy coldness within
his breast at the thought of losing his Padawan; Obi-Wan's
training was far more important than his own personal feelings.
That was what he intended to do. But walking to the door of
Obi-Wan's bedroom, unused since their arrival here, and seeing
the young man curled up on the bed, naked, the sheets hanging
loosely around his slim hips, made his resolve waver. His eyes
trailed down the smooth skin of Obi-Wan's back, to the curve of
his backside that was hidden beneath the sheets before drifting
back upward. His intentions vaporized completely when Obi-Wan's
eyes blinked open and caught his own.
Qui-Gon was taken aback at what he saw in those pale hazel
orbs, a painful tightness twisted in his stomach as he looked
into the eyes of his lover and saw...resignation. Acceptance.
With a jolt he realized that Obi-Wan knew what he was going to
say, and had been expecting it, perhaps since the beginning,
when they had first become lovers.
And yet he didn't plead, didn't beg, even silently. Obi-Wan
never defended his actions today and Qui-Gon suddenly knew he
never would. He had simply done what he had thought was right,
no matter the consequences. And now, he would accept whatever
decisions Qui-Gon, his master, made and try to go on, despite
the pain it might cause.
He had been acting the true Jedi all along. And Qui-Gon felt as
small as a Tal-heen desert mouse.
Had he really offered so little, that Obi-Wan had been just
been waiting for this rejection? And how could he have so
blind, to not see Obi-Wan's actions for what they were? Total
clarity struck him then, as he stood, still looking into
Obi-Wan's clear gaze. It wasn't Obi-Wan who was having
difficulties in adjusting to their new status as lovers. He
was.
He hadn't been angry at Obi-Wan for his perceived recklessness,
he had been angry with him for risking his life. Even now that
thought of how close his love had come to death today made
nausea well up within him, left a metallic trace of fear in his
mouth. He had been fooling himself, shifting the blame to
Obi-Wan and trying to distance himself from the cause of his
pain instead of dealing with it. And now, standing here in a
suspended moment of awareness, he could see he had been holding
Obi-Wan at arms length since this began, sharing his body but
jealously guarding his inner thoughts and emotions.
What kind of Jedi Master was he?
Obi-Wan was still looking at him, still waiting silently for
Qui-Gon to shatter his soul and then leave him sitting there
amongst the broken shards. In two strides Qui-Gon reached the
bed, pulling the startled young man into his arms and embraced
him tightly. Surprised, Obi-Wan half-struggled for a second
before he realized Qui-Gon was simply holding him, pressing
urgent kisses to his hair and neck. Uncertainly, he returned
the embrace, winding his arms around his master.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was so afraid for you today. I
thought I'd lost you, Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan," the words came
spilling out of him uncontrollably, tripping over each other as
he struggled with things that he needed to say. He settled on,
"I love you," over and over, half-sobbing the words against
Obi-Wan's neck, whispering them into his mouth as his touches
became desperate and he was overwhelmed with the need to touch,
to prove that this was real and Obi-Wan was truly with him.
Obi-Wan returned those kissed hesitantly, doubtfully. This
wasn't what he had been expecting, his entire being had been
prepared, hunkered down and braced for the rejection that he
knew was coming. He could deal with this, he had told himself.
He had to deal with it, had to make it work because if he
didn't he was going to lose the tiny part of Qui-Gon that would
be left to him.
But this, this he wasn't sure he could handle, this was a flood
to nerves that had been resolutely preparing for a drought,
this was...he gasped as Qui-Gon finally managed to tug the
sheet away and pressed against Obi-Wan full length, his tongue
invading Obi-Wan's mouth urgently.
Gradually, the kiss changed to something less passionate and
more frantic, an affirmation and Obi-Wan finally pulled away,
gasping for air.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, forcing Qui-Gon to stop, and then
pulling him into a comforting embrace. "It's all right, it's
ok, I'm here, I'm right here," he soothed, gently stroking his
fingers through Qui-Gon's hair, loosening the tie and tossing
it aside so that he could massage Qui-Gon's scalp, moving
downward to stroke tense shoulders. The older man took a deep
shuddering breath, ignored the protesting of his pride and
dignity and allowed Obi-Wan to comfort him for once. Those
hands slid lower, loosening his belt and sash and dropping them
off the edge of the bed so that warm fingers could slide
underneath Qui-Gon's tunic, soothing touches that settled
Qui-Gon's body as well as his mind.
They had happened so quickly, moved from being friends to
lovers in almost the same breath. This would take some time to
adjust to, Qui-Gon knew, now. Raising his head, he looked down
at his Padawan, no, his lover, knowing that he owed the young
man more than an glib apology.
"Obi-Wan, I have done you a grave injustice," he said softly,
laying a finger across Obi-Wan's lips when he would have
protested, "No, my love, it's true. I've wronged you with both
my body and my mind and I would make that up to you, if I but
knew how."
A gleam came into Obi-Wan's eyes then, a hint of the somewhat
mischievous young man that Qui-Gon knew hid beneath Obi-Wan's
façade of somberness. A gleam that Qui-Gon did not trust
one bit.
"We-ell, there is something you could do."
Qui-Gon liked that sly tone of voice even less than the gleam.
He sighed mentally, well he had all but asked for this. "What
must I do?" he asked heavily.
The smile that was teasing the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth
turned into a sharp-edged grin and the Jedi master wondered
with some dismay just where Obi-Wan had learned to look so
damned -wicked-. He shifted into a sitting position,
uncomfortably aware that his erection, which had wilted
somewhat during the conversation, was abruptly back at
attention and pressing eagerly against the front of his pants.
Thank the Force Jedi tunics are long, he thought wryly.
"You could let me...return the favor," Obi-Wan fairly purred
and Qui-Gon was so absorbed in the seductive murmur that it
took his mind a moment to process just what the young man had
said.
He looked, Obi-Wan decided, with indulgent affection, if he
were simple, all intelligence lost somehow. The older man's
eyes widened as the implications caught him and his mouth
opened and closed several times before he finally managed to
stammered out, "You want me to...you can't possibly...are you
serious?"
Obi-Wan pursed his lips, rolling his eyes upward as if
contemplating the idea and then settled his gaze back on his
stunned lover. "Uh huh."
It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse. He couldn't possibly
do that! What kind of Jedi master would he be if he allowed his
own -Padawan- to give him a spanking? But that was the crux of
the problem, he realized, he couldn't have it both ways. He
simply could not be the stern master when he was in his lover's
arms, he had to give -some- leeway. Surely there was room for
compromise? Although looking at the wicked expression on
Obi-Wan's face, he wasn't sure if he wanted to make those
compromises at this particular moment in time.
"It's all right, Master," Obi-Wan said, with a soft sound of
disappointment, "I'll understand if you can't handle a bit of
tit for tat."
That got him, just as Obi-Wan knew it would, that light
taunting tone that insinuated that he couldn't handle it.
Sending up a silent prayer for patience he all but growled,
"Oh, all right!"
Obi-Wan beamed at him, sat up and settled himself in a sitting
position at the edge of the bed. He wagged a finger comically
at Qui-Gon, "Come here."
With great reluctance, he did, settling himself awkwardly over
Obi-Wan knees. This was so humiliating, a hand smoothed over
his backside lightly and he seethed at the indignity of it.
Jedi were supposed to be humble, but this was a bit too humble
for his tastes. He was so caught up in his embarrassment that
the first blow took him by surprise. He nearly yelped at the
stinging pain, Obi-Wan was obviously pulling no punches.
The feel of a soothing hand on his ass startled him. "Relax,
Qui-Gon," came from above, "I'm only giving you what you gave
to me."
Not a comforting thought. He could block out the pain, put
himself into a trance but that would really be cheating.
Instead, he did as he was told and relaxed. "Just get on with
it," he gritted out.
Another blow and the sound cracked through the air like a whip.
Another. And another. Braced against the floor, Qui-Gon
wondered how Obi-Wan had handled this. It wasn't the pain, but
that mingled with the sense of shame and embarrassment was
nearly unbearable.
Again, the flat of a strong hand smacked him and then
something...changed. That hand drifted downward, between his
legs to lightly rub his inner thigh. Startled, Qui-Gon arched
against that touch before he thought about it only to be
rewarded with another blow by Obi-Wan's other hand.
The hand between his legs teased, moving upward to lightly
stroke his scrotum through the thin fabric of his pants and
Qui-Gon thoughtlessly spread his legs further to allow better
access. Another hard smack but somehow this didn't hurt as
much, his ass burned with pain but it felt strangely good as
well, and he wondered at it. He had never liked pain, that was
never something he had wanted during sex...
Another blow, just as Obi-Wan squeezed his cock through his
trousers, -hard- and he cried out, just a soft whimper but he
could dimly feel the satisfaction radiating off of Obi-Wan,
realized that in his embarrassment he had forgotten Obi-Wan's
state of undress and that he could feel Obi-Wan's cock pressing
against his stomach.
"There." The word barely registered before Qui-Gon found
himself abruptly dumped to the floor. Shifting, he looked at
his lover through a red haze.
"I think we're even now," Obi-Wan said airily. It was Qui-Gon's
turn to smile then, an almost feral grin that had Obi-Wan
blinking in surprise. Perhaps he'd gone too far...
That was confirmed immediately when he found himself flat on
his back, Qui-Gon over him, holding him down on the bed.
"Oh, no Obi-Wan, we are -not- even. Not by a long shot." With
that he dove downward, capturing Obi-Wan's lips in a fierce
kiss. He responded with a fierceness of his own, all tenderness
burned away by a blaze of sheer need. Barely an hour before he
had thought that he would never be this way with Qui-Gon again
and he almost didn't believe that this was happening now.
Although the hard, muscled heat of Qui-Gon's body pressing
against his own was certainly convincing.
He refused to let go when Qui-Gon tried to pull back, clinging
to him like a burr but Qui-Gon persisted, separating himself
enough to quickly shed his remaining garments and to turn the
younger man over onto his stomach. Obi-Wan went completely
still as he realized the implications, tried to control a tiny
shiver that ran through him.
Warm, familiar hands were touching his back, soothing him.
Qui-Gon leaned forward to murmur in the soft cup of Obi-Wan's
ear. "If you don't want this, love..." he let the sentence
hang, left the decision up to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan felt even more lost as the choice was placed in his
hands, it would have been so much easier to not have a choice,
to simply be taken, although he knew that Qui-Gon would never
do that. He did want this, yet at the same time he didn't, felt
a touch of fear at the unknown. Qui-Gon was waiting for some
sort of answer, running his tongue along the curve of Obi-Wan's
exposed ear. Well, fear was the path to the dark side...
"I...I want this." If the wavering of his voice hadn't been a
dead giveaway then the trembling of his body certainly was.
Qui-Gon made no move to acknowledge that he had heard Obi-Wan's
hesitant agreement. Instead, he shifted his hands to Obi-Wan's
back, massaging firmly. His fingers fluttered effortlessly to
pressure points, easing tension until Obi-Wan was slumped
against the mattress, boneless as a drowsy kitten. Only then
did his hands shift to Obi-Wan's backside. A bit of tension
returned but all he did was massage the firm globes, and
Obi-Wan let out a groan of pleasure.
One finger gently traced the dark crevice that divided the soft
cheeks, dipping between Obi-Wan's legs to lightly rub his
perineum. A choked moan was the only response and Obi-Wan
spread his legs to allow those fingers access. Large hands
cupped his buttocks and Obi-Wan felt the thumbs gently spread
him and he tensed for an invasion.
He was not disappointed, but it was also not the invasion he
was expecting. The hot wetness of Qui-Gon's tongue lightly
traced the dark puckered entrance to his body and he arched
backwards in surprised pleasure. Again, the limber wetness of a
tongue stroked against him and he nearly screamed at the
sensation, his nerves registering every tiny bit of stimulus;
the prickling brush of Qui-Gon's beard against sensitive flesh,
the delicately probing tongue that lapped a damp path downward,
then returning to again circle his anus.
Gods, he'd never even dreamed of such a forbidden pleasure,
every molecule in his body cried out as that nimble tongue
pressed hard, past the tight muscled circle, just barely inside
him and he arched against the sheets and came, strangling on a
hoarse scream of sheer bliss as he spilling his seed in ragged
spurts against the bed linens as flickering spots of light
danced briefly before his vision and he collapsed.
Obi-Wan had never felt so utterly relaxed in his life, even his
bones felt limp. Through the haze of contentment surrounding
him, he vaguely felt Qui-Gon still touching his ass with
lightly stroking fingers, but he practically ignored the
faintly ticklish sensation until he felt something press
against his anus, and, before he could react, inside his body.
It burned faintly and Obi-Wan realized it was a finger.
Carefully, Qui- Gon moved his oiled finger in and out of
Obi-Wan's body, loosening the tight passage and easing the way
for a much larger invasion later. He gently stroked the small
of Obi-Wan's back, encouraging him to relax. It didn't take
much encouragement, Obi-Wan was still as limp as a cooked
noodle. Withdrawing the single finger, he replaced it with two
and that earned him a gasp. Moving inside Obi-Wan, those
fingers sought a certain place and when that gasp turned into a
startled moan Qui-Gon grinned privately.
Three fingers then, and Obi-Wan tensed a bit at that. "Relax,
love, just relax," Qui-Gon crooned to his uncertain lover, even
as he struggled to control his own body's response. Obi-Wan's
was so hot so tight and he thrust a bit harder with his
fingers, wanting to be inside that sweet heat with an urgency
that was getting harder to control.
Getting harder was right, Qui-Gon thought with a soft groan.
Gods, he never been so hard in his life, his cock felt as if
were a bar of steel and finally, finally he felt Obi-Wan relax,
his body accepting three fingers.
He withdrew, moving behind Obi-Wan, he positioned himself
against that tight opening, pushing his foreskin back and
resting the tip of his cock for just a moment against that
small puckered opening, savoring this most wondrous of all
touches, this time that would never come again. Finally, he
could wait no longer and with a slight push forward he simply
sank in.
He stopped immediately when Obi-Wan cried out. "Am I hurting
you?" he panted out, every muscle in his body screaming for
Obi-Wan to say no. The tightness around just the head of his
cock was a subtle form of torture and he had to fight back the
urge to come then and there, his eyes rolling back slightly
before he shut them tightly, struggling to hold on to the last
shredding fibers of his control.
"No, don't stop, don't I...oh, gods don't stop," was gasped out
beneath him in one ragged breath. Good enough. He pressed
forward again, sliding into that well-oiled tightness until the
flat plane of his belly was resting against the smooth curve of
Obi-Wan's rump. He stretched himself across Obi-Wan's slighter
frame, blanketing his lover with his own body and resting his
cheek on the silky skin of Obi-Wan's shoulder.
Obi-Wan was caught in a web of sensation. It -did- hurt, burned
as the heated length of Qui-Gon's cock opened him in a way that
he had never been before. But the pleasure of it, the heat that
ignited at the base of his belly overshadowed the burn of pain
in a kind of inferno. He buried his head in his arms and could
only feel that connection and thought nothing could ever feel
better. Until Qui-Gon started to move.
Tendrils of fire wove their way from his ass through his legs
and stomach and settled in his cock as Qui-Gon pulled back
slightly and thrust back inside. Slowly at first, reluctant to
cause pain but as Obi-Wan arched backwards, shamelessly begging
for more those thrusts he pushed harder, faster until he was
pounding into the young man beneath him, control vanishing in
the sweet roil of pleasure. Qui-Gon's fingers dug viciously
into the flesh of Obi-Wan's hips, pulling him backwards into
his own deep lunges.
Obi-Wan was lost to it and, desperate to know he wasn't alone
in this tumult, he flung his mental awareness outward. He felt
Qui-Gon capture the shattered fragments of thought and emotion
and they both screamed at the backlash, at the doubled
perception of taking and being taken and with one final thrust
they both came, Obi-Wan again anointing the sheets with his
seed as Qui-Gon seemed to pour his very soul inside the body of
the man he loved, coming for what seemed an eon of rippling
pleasure.
Gasping, forcing breath into starving lungs, Qui-Gon slumped
downward, sprawling his entire weight on the young man beneath
him, trembling with aftershocks. Obi-Wan didn't protest, merely
squirmed closer, relishing the heavy weight on him.
Using what felt like the last ounce of strength within him,
Qui-Gon just barely managed to turn his head and brush his lips
against Obi- Wan's cheek. And tasted salt. Frowning, he
repeated the gesture, pressing troubled kisses all over Obi-Wan
face and everywhere was the taste of tears.
"Did I hurt you, Obi-Wan?" he asked, alarmed. The young man
shook his head but seemed incapable of speaking as he struggled
with himself. A soft mental touch from Qui-Gon found tight
shields wrapped around Obi- Wan's emotions.
Harsh regret stabbed at him as Qui-Gon pulled out of and away
from the young man, sure that the Obi-Wan was trying, yet
again, to protect him. He gathered Obi-Wan into his arms as he
continued to press remorseful kisses to his face. "I'm sorry,
love, I'm so sorry," he murmured, resting his cheek against
Obi-Wan's hair, which was still damp and matted with sweat.
"You didn't hurt me." Shakily spoken, but determined. Still
gently rocking the young man, he let the question hang silently
in the air. Why, then?
Obi-Wan was silent, striving for words that did not exist, no
mere language could explain and finally, he simply let go of
the wall around his mind, casting himself outward as he had
moments before and let Qui-Gon decide if he wanted to catch
him.
Without even a second's hesitation, he did, pulling the tangle
of thoughts and emotion within himself and he nearly reeled at
the flood that enveloped him. Love, despair, confusion, doubt,
they all pulled at him, each fighting for supremacy. Love for
the man who was holding him so tenderly. Despair because he
knew that this wasn't permanent, that eventually it -would- end
and he would be left alone to pick up the pieces of his
shattered existence. Confusion as to why Qui-Gon had done this,
why had he not taken the out provided to them and ended this
before it became even more painful. Doubt that this was real,
that this wonderful sense of being cherished would last even
until the morning, that...Qui-Gon closed his eyes, this was
really just too painful.
And within it all was the dark swirl of his own aching regret,
that he had done this with his own self-absorption and anger,
allowed this to fester to a depth of pain that astonished him,
even as he marveled at Obi-Wan's ability to hide such emotion
from him.
And still, overlaying each sharp edge of pain was love,
bittersweet and strong and the feel of it was like the warmth
of the first ray of sunshine after a bitter cold. Qui-Gon let
that warmth fill him, basked in the embrace of pure emotion
that was Obi-Wan, it soothed his own pain even as it struggle
to overshadow Obi-Wan's.
Such a gift was not to be given, nor received, lightly. Qui-Gon
struggled with his own doubts, his fears. Could he sit silently
while this precious being offered him his soul and give nothing
in return?
Hesitantly, warily, he let his own shields thin, shields that
he had been building for a lifetime, and he felt Obi-Wan's
surprise, then a tentative touch brushing his mind. Gritting
his teeth, Qui-Gon forced himself to submit to the touch and
immediately felt Obi-Wan chasten him gently, the mind touch
stroked instead of probed, soothed raw areas in his mind that
Qui-Gon hadn't even known existed.
Tenderness and love accomplished what force never could have
and Qui- Gon felt the wall of glass in his mind crack, then
shatter totally, allowing their consciousness to mingle freely,
shifting and finally letting him feel the true glory of
Obi-Wan's love.
//Oh, I didn't know! Obi-Wan, I didn't...oh my love//, loud as
a scream within his head but no sound escaped his parted lips.
He let the spiral carry him away, knowing that no matter how
far he fell, Obi-Wan would be there to catch him.
"I want to bond with you." The head which held the hair that he
had been lightly stroking shifted and amused hazel eyes peering
at him through the darkness.
"Not half a day ago you were planning on leaving me forever,
and -now- you want to bond with me?" Qui-Gon shifted
uncomfortably at the chiding tone. He shrugged, somewhat
sheepishly.
"Well, that was before...you know."
"Yes, I know." Obi-Wan said dryly. When he said nothing else
Qui-Gon gave him a frown.
"Is that a no?"
"I'm not sure, I'm thinking." Again, silence and Qui-Gon had to
quell the urge to fidget. He was beginning to wonder which one
of them was the Padawan here, in truth he hadn't felt this
young and inept in far longer than he cared to think about.
"Well?" he finally asked, his voice colored with impatience.
"I'm still thinking. Ask me again in the morning."
"What!" Indignantly he sat up, looking down at the young man
next to him, who happened to be shaking with silent mirth.
Qui-Gon scowled at him, Obi-Wan was having far too much fun
tonight at his expense, but that glare only made the young man
laugh harder. Qui-Gon waited patiently for Obi-Wan to calm
somewhat and then pounced on him, kissing him until they were
both breathless.
"Well?" he asked again, huskily this time. Obi-Wan graced him
with a beatific smile, looking at him with seductive eyes that
glowed with an inner warmth that made Qui-Gon tingle both in
response and anticipation.
"My love, how could you possibly doubt?" And with a tug he
pulled Qui- Gon back down, answering him with a kiss of his own
and it was a long time indeed before either of them had the
breath or inclination for any more conversation.
-finis-
Questions, comments, naked Jedi wrapped in cellophane, to
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