Summary: Fifth in the series that began with 'An Invasion of
Privacy.'
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. Nope, not one bit. But I'm
abusing them anyway! Bwaa ha ha! No one can stop me now! It's
too late! I..uh, ahem. I mean, they belong to Lucas, I'm only
borrowing.
Author's notes: This is a direct (And long awaited, I know)
sequel to 'Moments of Clarity and will make little sense if you
haven't read it. The series, in order, is:
An Invasion of Privacy
A Wicked Intention
Lessons Learned
Moments of Clarity
Shifting Perceptions
And there is a wonderful additional chapter by Ruth Gifford
called 'A Wicked Padawan'. All are available on the M_A site
and on my own website.
Many thanks go to RavenD for an excellent beta. She helped
root out all my evil commas as well as helping me fill in any
plot holes. Also thanks to Jane St. Clair for the wonderful
encouragement. And thank you to everyone else for being so
patient, I know it took me forever to finish this one. :)
The door chime pealing loudly through his quarters was what
woke him, dragging him from the warm depths of contented sleep
and into chilly reality. He ignored it for a moment, pulling
his pillow over his head in an effort to drown out the noise.
It rang out again insistently, making its way through fabric
and layers of synthetic cushioning. With a groan he levered
himself out of bed, trudging through the living area to his
door where his decidedly unwelcome guest was no doubt waiting.
He poked his head out the door, disregarding his tousled hair
and lack of clothing. Annoyed words died on Thian's lips when
he saw who was there, leaning against the wall outside with his
eyes closed and resting his forehead on one uplifted
hand.
Silently, Thian held the door open and Obi-Wan walked inside.
Thian followed him, shutting the outer door and, after a
moment's hesitation, he locked it. It wouldn't hold out a
well-trained initiate, much less a Master Jedi but at least it
would show in the computer records that the door had been
locked.
Obi-Wan had flopped onto the sofa, sprawled out with an arm
over his eyes and Thian fought back a sigh. He liked Obi-Wan,
he really did but he was regretting getting involved in this
whole mess more and more with every second that ticked by.
It was partly your idea, Thi old boy, he reminded himself
furiously, tamping down the urge to just wash his hands of
this. Obi-Wan was a good friend and he had helped to get him
into this and now he was stuck trying to help them all get back
out with the minimum of damage. He hoped it wasn't already too
late; neither Qui-Gon nor Obi had looked particularly cheerful
today and Obi wasn't exactly radiating good humor now.
Tea, Thian decided abruptly, tea would help and he fled to the
kitchen to make it, sorting through his wayward emotions. When
he finally reappeared Thian had managed to gain a semblance of
calm. He handed Obi-Wan a steaming mug, which was accepted
silently and settled into the only other chair in the room with
his own, looking at his friend, waiting.
By the time his tea was cool, his patience had thinned
considerably. "Obi-Wan, are you going to tell me what is going
on or are you going to lay on my sofa and mope all night?" he
finally snapped out, setting his mug on the wobbly end table
with a loud thud. "Because let me tell you, if it is the latter
then I am going back to bed." He winced mentally at his own
irritable words. Diplomacy was definitely not his strong point.
Nothing. Only a faint sound, a soft, hitched breath that
sounded far too close to a sob and Thian abruptly felt like a
complete ass. Here his friend was, nearly suicidal for all he
knew and he was showing all the compassion of a wookie with a
sore paw.
"Obi, I'm sorry, I..." One hand lifted and gestured at him
vaguely and Thian was alarmed to hear more of those soft
sounds. He rubbed his temples wearily. Why, oh why do these
things always happen in the wee hours of the morning, he
wondered. The sounds grew louder and Thian leaned forward,
reaching out a wary hand to comfort his friend and suddenly
Obi-Wan rolled over, clutching at his stomach as he giggled,
his eyes meeting Thian's before rolling madly away as Obi-Wan
struggled to stop laughing.
"Ohh," he finally moaned, wiping his eyes, still shaking with
the occasional chuckle. "Thian, don't ever change. If ever I
need someone to give me a hard kick in the butt to get me in
gear, I'll be sure to come to you." A loud snort was Thian's
only response and Obi-Wan hid his amusement by taking a sip of
his now-cold tea, wrinkling his nose but drinking it anyway.
"Well, now that that's out of the way, do you think you could
possibly tell me what is going on?"
The lingering amusement in Obi-Wan's eyes faded at the
reminder. He sat a moment longer, finishing the cold tea almost
absently before he finally began to speak. In hesitant, broken
sentences he told Thian everything. What had happened that
morning after and what had happened only hours before, pushing
aside a small twinge of guilt at revealing such intimate
details about Qui-Gon's life.
Thian found himself listening with guilty fascination. His
emotions swung wildly from horrified shock at what Qui-Gon had
done to his friend to almost pained sympathy for the man. By
the time Obi-Wan finished and was waiting quietly, Thian was
uncomfortably aware that for one of the first times in his
life, he didn't know what to say.
"Obi..." he started, and then fell silent. He fidgeted with
his empty cup for a moment before making himself set it aside.
"You two have some major problems to deal with," he said
finally, knowing he was stating the obvious, but unsure of what
else to say. He sighed heavily. "I don't know, Obi-Wan, I'm not
much of a therapist. Maybe if you two talked to someone
else?"
"No. Not an option, Thian," Obi-Wan said firmly, shaking his
head. "If a healer were to hear about this, they'd have to
bring it to the Council's attention. I'm not going to let
Qui-Gon get into trouble over this."
"Not to mention the trouble we'd get in," Thian added dryly.
"I imagine that seducing a Jedi Master would put a hell of a
black mark on our records."
Obi-Wan found himself giggling helplessly at that, a little of
the tension he'd been carrying for the past few days draining
away. When his laughter finally tapered off, he shifted to
stretch out on the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes.
"Where is Qui-Gon anyway?" The words echoed into the small
room and Obi-Wan peeked out to see that Thian had gone back to
make more tea.
"Asleep. He was a little...drained...after our talk," he said
almost absently, his thoughts drifting back to their talk.
"What am I going to do," Obi-Wan said aloud, softly. He wasn't
actually expecting an answer and was startled when he received
one.
"Maybe you should do what you originally intended to do,"
Thian said calmly, as he moved to kneel next to the sofa.
Obi-Wan lifted his arm enough to look into Thian's face. "What
do you mean?"
"This all started because you wanted a more intimate
relationship with your master," Thian pointed out. "So go back
to that."
Obi-Wan's arm dropped away and he stared at Thian openly. "Are
you serious? Didn't you hear a word I just said?"
"Of course I did," Thian said, exasperated. "And I also heard
you tell me that you were trying to work things out." Thian
captured Obi-Wan's chin and forced him to look up. "Obi-Wan, if
you really want to stay with him, you are going to have to move
forward," Thian said gently. "It's too late to go back to what
you were. You can either clean a wound or cut out the bad flesh
but you can't make it as if it never was."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. It was true. They had spent the past
few days trying to pretend that it hadn't happened and Obi-Wan
knew how far that had carried them. "I'm not sure that I can,
Thian," he said with quiet honestly.
"If you can't, then you have to leave." Simple, honest, but
Obi-Wan flinched visibly at the words. Thian frowned,
considering.
"Is it just the idea of sex that's bothering you?" In a blur
of motion, Thian rolled neatly on top of Obi-Wan, pinning his
startled friend beneath him, and kissed him, deeply but
carefully, ready to pull away at the slightest hint of unease.
But Obi-Wan responded, a bit hesitantly in his surprise, and
then returned the pressure warmly. The kiss was very sweet and
drawn out and both of them were vaguely disappointed when it
was over. Obi-Wan sighed and wrapped his arms around his
friend, pressing his face into Thian's chest.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Thian chuckled, somewhat
breathlessly. He pulled back a bit and propped his chin up on
his hand. "Then it's the idea of sex with Qui-Gon that's
bothering you?" No response and Thian shrugged. "Only one way
you're going to get over that, my friend. Throw the rider back
on the tauntaun and all that philosophical shit."
Obi-Wan muffled a snicker against Thian's chest. "You have to
soul of a poet, Thi," he said wryly, lifting his head to look
into Thian's face. "And it doesn't -bother- me. I mean," he
flicked his eyes away from Thian's, focusing on the ceiling
instead. "He didn't really hurt me, not physically."
"Mental wounds are the hardest to heal."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at that, "Thank you, Master Yoda."
Twisting, he dumped his friend onto the floor. Thian landed
with a thump and a startled yelp. He glared at Obi-Wan as he
rubbed his abused backside.
Thian's expression grew serious again. "Obi-Wan, if you don't
think you can deal with this, then you should let it go. I mean
it. Maybe you two would be better off apart for a little
while..." He trailed off, sighing at Obi-Wan's expression. "Or
maybe trying to get a real relationship going with him will
help." Thian shook his head. "I don't envy you, my friend. From
what you told me it isn't going to be easy."
Obi-Wan gave him a shaky smile. "Nothing with Qui-Gon ever
is." He turned to leave but just as quickly turned back.
"Thi?"
Thian gave him a guarded look. "Yeah?"
"Thanks." And he kissed Thian again, hard, stroking his tongue
deeply inside the other padawan's mouth before pulling back and
saying huskily, "You may not be much of a therapist, but you
are a good friend." Thian nodded dumbly and Obi-Wan turned to
leave again.
"Wait!" he called and Obi-Wan gave him a questioning look.
"For what it's worth, Obi, I hope you work things out." Obi-Wan
grinned and nodded before he turned again and left.
Thian stayed on the floor, casting a rueful glance down at his
very aroused body before raising his eyes skyward. "And if
things don't work out, don't come back to me," he muttered
under his breath. "Because next time you're staying and taking
care of the problems you start."
The room was dark, the curtains pulled against the lights of
Coruscant and only soft breathing broke the silence.
Obi-Wan sat on the floor next to the bed, watching Qui-Gon
breathe. The faint rise and fall of his chest was barely
visible in the dim light, his hair a dark smudge around the
paler circle of his face. Earlier, Obi-Wan had put his master
into this bed, tugging the man's boots and belt off before
tucking him fully dressed under the blankets. Qui-Gon had sat
on the edge of the bed mutely, making no sound except for a
relieved sigh when the blankets were finally settled around
him.
It had been so very strange, taking on the unfamiliar role of
protector. Qui-Gon had done this for him a dozen or so times,
when he'd been sick or overly tired. Once when he'd been
extremely drunk and Qui- Gon hadn't scolded him at all, just
tucked him beneath the blankets and soothed him into sleep.
Force, it had been a long time since he had thought of that,
several years at least. He'd only been fifteen and certainly
not old enough to be drinking but Qui-Gon hadn't punished him,
had even held him when he'd found his padawan hovering over the
'fresher, sick and shaking. Obi-Wan smiled a little at the
memory. Qui-Gon had told him later that no punishment was more
effective than letting the alcohol run its course. He had to
admit, that punishment had certainly worked. He hadn't
overindulged since.
Punishment.
He trailed a hand lightly over the soft blanket covering the
bed and remembered what had happened the last time he was in
this bed. He had hardly recognized his master, couldn't believe
what was happening. All he'd been able to think of was maybe if
he did this, maybe if he did what Qui-Gon asked they could at
least go back to what they'd had before. Maybe.
Then to see Qui-Gon as he had last night...he'd learned things
about his master that he had never suspected, never even
dreamed of.
It made him wonder just how well he knew this man.
A lock of hair had fallen across Qui-Gon's face and Obi-Wan
reached out and stroked it back, tucking it behind the older
man's ear. Qui-Gon made a soft sound and shifted slightly and
Obi-Wan froze, hardly breathing until Qui-Gon stilled again.
Sitting closer now, Obi-Wan could make out more of Qui-Gon's
face, the tired lines that Obi-Wan had just now noticed were
easing. Thian had been right, Obi-Wan thought suddenly. His
vision of Qui-Gon had been altered by this, not just the sex
but by this entire situation. Looking at Qui-Gon, now he saw
someone different, not a master or a teacher, not an icon that
he looked up to and secretly desired but a man. Just a man, one
who could love and could be hurt by that love, one who could
feel as confused or unsure as Obi-Wan sometimes did. Who could
and did make mistakes, sometimes terrible ones but who was
strong enough to try to live with the consequences.
Qui-Gon had fallen off the pedestal that his Padawan had built
beneath him, and fallen hard, but Obi-Wan couldn't help but
think that perhaps it was better that way. No one could ever
have lived up to that image, not even Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan smiled
very slightly at that thought and he realized that he didn't
want Qui-Gon to. The man, he decided, was better than the
god.
They couldn't go back to what they had had, even if Obi-Wan
had wanted to. Which, Obi-Wan admitted with a wry twist to his
lips, he didn't really want to anyway. No matter what had
happened between them, he still loved Qui-Gon, loved this -man-
and he would do anything to stay with him.
He sighed again, resting his chin on the mattress as he
watched his master sleep. Now if he only he was sure that
Qui-Gon felt the same.
A faint sense of discomfort and coldness made Obi-Wan open his
eyes what felt like only a moment later, He blinked in the dim
light and found Qui-Gon only inches away from him, lying on his
side and watching him.
Eyes meeting, they were silent for a long moment before
Qui-Gon finally spoke. "Obi-Wan, why are you sleeping on the
floor?" Sleepy, faintly amused tone and Obi-Wan relaxed to hear
it.
"I was watching you sleep," he admitted, stretching and
wincing as his cramped muscles protested. "I guess I fell
asleep too."
"Well, you don't need to sleep on the floor. Come on." Qui-Gon
tugged at Obi-Wan's arm gently, then more persistently, coaxing
him into standing and in moments the younger man was tucked
under the blankets and into Qui-Gon's side, still fully
clothed.
"There," Qui-Gon sighed, shifting up on his elbow to look down
at Obi- Wan and the younger man caught his breath as he
realized how very close they were, Qui-Gon's face only inches
from his own.
*He's going to kiss me * Obi-Wan thought giddily, that last of
his sleepiness draining away into growing apprehension. He
wanted it, knew that he wanted it but still...
His nerves were practically vibrating now as Qui-Gon stared
down at him and Obi-Wan swallowed hard, trying to work up some
saliva in his suddenly dry mouth. Hop back on the tauntaun
Thian had said. Sure, no problem. He closed his eyes, unable to
watch any longer and waited, lips nearly tingling in
anticipation of contact.
Nothing happened.
Instead, Obi-Wan blinked his eyes open again as he felt
Qui-Gon's head settled on his chest, as if listening for the
younger man's heartbeat. Strong arms slid around Obi-Wan and
held him gently as Qui-Gon sighed again, pressing his nose into
his padawan's tunics and inhaling deeply. Another sigh and
Qui-Gon was still, his breathing deepening as he sank back into
sleep.
Obi-Wan lifted is head up to stare down at Qui-Gon's in
disbelief. What the hells? Qui-Gon hadn't kissed him. He hadn't
even tried. Obi-Wan hadn't even been certain that he wanted
Qui-Gon to kiss him but now he was perversely annoyed that
Qui-Gon hadn't. With a faint snort he let his head drop back
with a loud thump, automatically soothing Qui-Gon when he
murmured in his sleep. Oh well, at least they were lying
together now.
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan let go of his annoyance and instead
relished the feel of holding Qui-Gon so closely. He was still
smiling faintly as he drifted off to sleep.
The sensation of being uncomfortably warm was what woke him
the next day. Shoving the blankets off, Obi-Wan sighed in
relief at the cooler air as he rolled back over. Sleep eluded
him though and finally he surrendered, sitting up and
stretching. He grimaced and wiped a sleeve across his damp
face, looking down at himself. No wonder he was sweating, he'd
gone to bed fully dressed.
That thought brought back memories of the previous night and a
tentative touch through the bond that he and Qui-Gon shared
found his master in the outer room. A flicker of awareness
pushed back at him; Qui-Gon knew he was awake.
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan breathed deeply, centering himself
and pushing away a flash of anxiety. Better to do this now and
get it over with, he doubted he could spend another day like he
had the last few, surrounded in exhausting tension. Then there
was last night. He remembered Qui-Gon's expression the night
before as his master had pulled him onto the bed, the warmth
that he had not seen in days and for the first time since this
had begun, Obi-Wan believed that this might be all right.
Shifting to his feet, Obi-Wan walked to the door and peered
out hesitantly. He could hear his master moving around in the
kitchen area as he edged out the door and into the common room.
Qui-Gon walked out at the same moment Obi-Wan finally nerved
himself to walk in and they both froze briefly, eyes meeting
and holding.
Qui-Gon was fully dressed, even to his boots and cloak,
obviously intending to go somewhere. He looked as impeccable as
always, a perfect example of a calm Jedi master, at least to
someone who didn't know him. Beneath the thin veneer of his
master's calm, Obi-Wan could nearly feel the vibration of the
older man's emotions, a swirling turmoil beneath the surface
that ate away at Obi-Wan's burgeoning hope. He could only
wonder at what Qui-Gon saw in his own eyes.
It was his master who spoke first, breaking the moment.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon said, clearing his throat, "I think...you
may have the day to yourself. I'm..." Qui-Gon hesitated, his
eyes flicking away from his padawan's. Something hard and
painful was knotting in Obi-Wan's stomach and he swallowed
hard, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around his middle
like a lost child.
"Obi-Wan," his master continued softly, "I know that we still
need to talk, but I would like some time to meditate about
this, I..." His calm was visibly wavering and one hand rose
briefly to his head, rubbing his temples as if his head ached.
"So much has happened, Obi-Wan," he said finally. "And it has
been rather forcibly pointed out to me that I have some
personal issues that I need to deal with. I just need to think
about this."
The silence stretched awkwardly between them. Words failed
Obi-Wan, what could he say to that? Protest his master's
request, one that was certainly understandable considering what
Obi-Wan had learned the night before? It made his own heart
throb afresh to recall Qui-Gon's pain.
Belatedly, he realized Qui-Gon was waiting for a response from
him and he nodded, quickly murmuring some appropriate response.
A faint expression of relief showed through Qui-Gon's mask of
calm and he turned to the door, leaving Obi-Wan behind him. The
young man had a strange feeling of growing smaller as Qui-Gon
walked away, a rush of cold certainty slapping into him that if
he let Qui-Gon go through that door then he would never see him
again.
"I am not Xanatos." Softly, barely more than a whisper but he
knew Qui- Gon had heard him, saw the sudden tension in his
master's shoulders. He stopped, just inside the door and the
one hand hanging loosely at his side slowly tightened into a
fist.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to see Obi-Wan from
the corner of his eye. "I know."
Then he was gone.
As soon as the door was shut, Obi-Wan turned and went back to
bed, this time stripping off his tunics and pants before
crawling under the blankets. As long as he had the day to
himself he decided he might as well make good use of it and
there was no such thing as too much sleep.
The hallways were crowded with the usual midmorning rush, the
push of different beings against each other as they all tried
to get to their various destinations. They jostled Qui-Gon as
he walked, each murmuring their own apologies and excuses, yet
to the Jedi master it was merely a drone of sound. It was all
he could do to keep walking, one foot in front of the other as
his steps carried him away from his quarters.
The bustle of the crowd thinned as he made his way deeper into
the Temple, away from the common areas. He slowly made his way
to one of the balconies that were reserved for meditation,
ignoring the protest echoing in the back of his head as he
closed the door to indicate that this balcony was in use. It
was one of the smaller ones, only meant for single meditation
with the cityscape visible over the short wall surrounding it.
Closing the door, he flipped open the control panel next to it
and activated the privacy shield. The dull roar of midmorning
Coruscant was cut off abruptly, the outside world closed out
just as he was enclosed within so that he wasn't inadvertently
broadcasting his thoughts and emotions to every being in the
Temple. The shields gave him silence and solitude if not peace.
Settling himself on a thin mat that was placed thoughtfully in
one corner, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and allowed the Force to
flow through him. His first sense was that this was not where
he should be and that impression he pushed aside gently. He
already knew that he needed to speak yet with his padawan and
having that thought press on him constantly was not going to
provide him with any of the resolution he wished to find
here.
This was something he needed to do; he had put it off for long
enough and if he and Obi-Wan were to move on together then he
needed to come to terms with Xanatos and with himself. Just
thinking of his former padawan's name caused a surge of pain
from a long festering wound in his heart. It was far past the
time to be healed from this, he knew, and now he was using his
old hurts to hurt Obi-Wan, and that was unacceptable.
He had that to consider as well. Bitterness welled in him at
the memory and he let it the emotion fill him, held it before
his eyes and examined it, the way one would look at a curious
object, before he released it and allowed it to drift away. It
would never leave him entirely, that he knew, the memory of one
of the most terrible things he had ever done in the entirety of
his life.
We always do the most terrible things to the ones we love, he
thought, a trace of bitterness still lingering within. Or have
the most terrible things done to us by those we love.
Finally he let go completely, releasing his hold on his
consciousness and giving himself over to the Force, allowing
its sweet embrace to hold him and soothe his ragged emotions,
like a loving mother comforting her long-lost child.
Coruscant was not the cleanest of planets. Although the levels
of pollution were now far lower than they had been even a few
centuries ago, it had been more of a case of far too little too
late. The entire atmosphere of the planet depended on the
artificial bionetwork to provide the environment that most
species required to survive. Effective and efficient, although
it would never surpass the charm of the ecosystem balance
provided in the natural world.
And it was somewhat dusty. No matter that you kept the windows
closed at all times, the fans from the ventilators blew a thin
layer of dust into every room in the Temple, excluding the
Council Chamber that ran off of its own ventilation system to
ensure privacy. The Temple did provide an automated cleaning
system but it was often shunned when Jedi were not away on
missions. Especially if said Jedi had a padawan, since it was
widely believed that a little extra work caused no harm. It was
a theory that often changed when padawans passed their trials
but most Jedi masters prudently didn't discuss that.
Qui-Gon was such a master and Obi-Wan had been required to
keep their quarters neat and tidy from the moment he had first
entered them under his new title of padawan. It was a duty he
had often grumbled about, albeit silently because he learned
very quickly that doing so aloud often resulted in extra
chores. He disliked it but he did it, even as he secretly
looked forward to torturing his own padawan someday.
In all the time that he had been a padawan, today was the
first day that he had appreciated the mind-numbing effort of
housecleaning, going through the repetitive motions on
autopilot as he tried to ignore his master's continued absence
as the day continued on.
The shadows over the Temple were lengthening when his doubts
finally managed to push their way to the forefront of his mind.
He'd given up on Qui-Gon coming to the evening meal and had
eaten sparingly himself, leaving a plate for his master should
he choose to come. Wandering past the table, Obi-Wan picked at
the congealing food on the plate before sighing in disgust and
taking it to the kitchen, scraping the food into the recycler
and washing the plate furiously.
His master should have come home by now, how long could
someone meditate without eating? If he'd bother to admit it to
himself he knew it could be some time; he'd seen Qui-Gon do it
himself, lower his metabolism and stay within a trance state
for days at a time. Some Jedi masters could go for weeks. As a
child, Obi-Wan had asked his master once why he didn't try an
extended meditation. The older man had replied calmly that he
felt that while a trance state was a lovely place to visit, he
had no plans to go for an extended stay. His voice had become
somewhat wry then and he'd tapped Obi-Wan on the nose, telling
him that someone had to stay to keep an eye on mischievous
padawans.
At the time, he had rolled his eyes and rubbed his nose
indignantly. But now, standing here alone elbow-deep in soapy
water, he found himself wishing Qui-Gon would tap his nose like
that again, just once.
He hoped he would at least see Qui-Gon again.
The sun had long since descended over the horizon when he
finished cleaning the kitchen area, and Obi-Wan wandered out
into the common room, flopping down on the sofa with all the
grace that could be expected from an exhausted padawan. Idly,
he picked up a datapad and scrolled through the information on
their upcoming mission. They were supposed to be leaving in two
days and they hadn't even discussed the details yet. Perhaps
when Qui-Gon returned they would...when he returned. If he
returned.
"He's not coming back." The words sounded oddly loud in the
stillness of the room, and Obi-Wan flinched slightly to hear
them aloud. He studied the white of the ceiling, ignoring them
even though he was the one who had spoken. They refused to be
ignored, echoing through his mind no matter how hard he tried
to push them aside until he began to believe them. Qui-Gon was
not coming back to him.
There was only the sound of his breathing, increasingly fast
as he closed his eyes against certainty and panic. No. This was
not something he was going to allow. Standing, he quickly
shoved his feet into his boots without bothering to fasten them
and dragged on his cloak before he walked with calm
determination out the door.
The main hallways were as crowded as usual; those from
nocturnal species were rising to go through their nightly
routines just as those who preferred the daylight hours were
returning to their rooms to sleep. Obi-Wan made his way slowly
through, smiling briefly at the occasional greetings he
received from other padawans.
He walked for nearly an hour before finally stopping, sinking
down on a nearby bench. The hallway was deserted and Obi-Wan
discarded proper Jedi decorum and lay down, letting his legs
hang off the end of the short bench.
It was useless. If his master was even still in the Temple,
Obi-Wan couldn't feel him. Reaching through their bond only led
him to a blank wall, which meant either Qui-Gon's shields were
up or he was behind another shield of some sort, with both
possibilities likely.
Sighing, Obi-Wan reached up and pillowed his head on his
hands. This wasn't supposed to have happened like this, none of
it and for just a moment he keenly wished that none of this had
ever happened and that he could return to the beginning of the
week when he and Thian had come up with their plan. Just as
quickly he let the wish slip away. As Master Yoda had often
said, yearning for the past brought nothing but heartache and
empty hands.
He closed his eyes, exhausted by his efforts through the day
and from the stress of the past week and he was nearly asleep
when he felt it, just the faintest tug at the back of his mind.
Obi-Wan stood without opening his eyes, following that gentle
pull like a sleepwalker.
He didn't know how long he walked in half-trance, moving
through the Temple like a silent wraith but when the sensation
finally faded he was standing in front of a closed door with no
doubt that Qui-Gon was on the other side.
The door was locked, as Obi-Wan had expected but he knew
Qui-Gon's primary access code as well as he knew his own and
when he tapped it in the door slid open with a soft hiss.
The sun had long since gone over the horizon and the small
balcony was cloaked in the deep shadows of Coruscant's night.
He could see Qui- Gon's outline in the far corner, kneeling,
and Obi-Wan crept forward warily, not wanting to disturb him
and yet not wanting to leave either after having found him.
"You never did have much patience."
Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin at his master's soft
words and his nervousness melted away at the faint humor in
Qui-Gon's tone. At least he wasn't angry.
"You didn't come home for evening meal," he replied, as if
that explained his presence. He knelt down across from his
master, waiting silently to see if Qui-Gon would allow him to
stay. He felt faintly foolish now, trailing after his master
like a lost pet instead of the adult he was supposed to be.
Still, now that he was here he'd be damned as a Sith before
he'd leave without being told.
Long moments ticked by, each second raising Obi-Wan's
apprehension a notch until finally he heard an exasperated
sigh.
"It's very difficult for one to meditate by themselves when
they are not alone, Padawan." There was still that slight touch
of amusement in Qui-Gon's voice and Obi-Wan smiled to hear it.
"Yes, I know, but there was something I needed to tell you.
You rushed out so quickly this morning that I never had a
chance." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released it, steeling
himself. He'd had all day to think of what he wanted to say and
he'd never have a better opportunity. "I wanted to tell you
that I'm sorry."
He could hardly see his master's face in the darkness but he
heard Qui- Gon's indrawn breath and Obi-Wan cut off his
protests quickly. "No, listen to me. Please." A pause and
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. Another deep breath and this was more
difficult than he had thought it would be. After all that had
happened between them he had fancied that the words would be
nothing but it seemed that courage was needed to say things
that he had only thought before.
"I love you," Obi-Wan finally blurted out. He hurried to
explain before Qui-Gon could respond. If he didn't say this all
now he wasn't sure he could do it again. "I know it must not
seem that way to you and I'm not asking you to excuse what I
did, I don't have that right. But I'd at least like to
explain."
He took his master's silence as consent and continued. "It was
the only way I could think of to get to you. I was so sure that
you'd wake up and see me and..." The words choked to a halt,
his throat too tight for speech in memory. He had been so sure
of Qui-Gon, had thought he'd known his master so well and
discovered a man that hadn't even known existed. But, oh, he
did love that man, so very much...
Wetting his lips, Obi-Wan managed to whisper softly, "I didn't
consider what my actions would do to you and for that I am
sorry." He managed a faint, bitter laugh. "You were always
trying to teach me to think my actions through carefully..."
Qui-Gon finally broke his silence to murmur, "It would seem
that I am in need of relearning that lesson as well, my
padawan."
"No." He pressed his fingers against Qui-Gon's lips. "We
aren't discussing that. You talked about that yesterday and
today it is my turn to talk."
"Obi-Wan..." he said around his padawan's fingers and Obi-Wan
covered his master's mouth with his palm instead.
"Is it so difficult for you to be silent for a few minutes?"
he asked, exasperated. He could feel Qui-Gon smile behind his
hand. "All I want to tell you is that I'm sorry. And I love
you. I wanted you to know that it wasn't about sex, or at least
not all of it." Aware that he was rambling, Obi-Wan pushed on
desperately, hoping that some of what he was saying was getting
through. "And no matter how you feel or don't feel about me I
want you to come home and...and just be with me. However you
want to be." Apprehensively, Obi-Wan pulled his hand away and
waited.
"Am I allowed to speak now?" Dryly said and Obi-Wan smiled a
little.
"Yes."
"Obi-Wan," he started and then hesitated and Obi-Wan felt his
heart fall down to his stomach. Qui-Gon at a loss for words was
never a good thing. He had seen the man weave impromptu
speeches at the worst of times. That he couldn't speak now did
not seem to be a good sign.
"Obi-Wan," he repeated softly, and he lifted a hand to the
younger man's cheek. Obi-Wan leaned against its warmth almost
helplessly, willing to take any tiny shred of comfort while he
sat there with his heart in his hands, waiting to see if it
would be accepted or shattered beyond repair.
"Padawan, I knew that you loved me. And I was just getting
ready to return home when you got here."
Obi-Wan blinked, his jaw unhinging as he stared at his master.
"Why didn't you say something!" he blurted out. He didn't need
to see Qui- Gon's face to know that he was amused.
"And spoil your speech?" Obi-Wan was still sputtering for
words when he felt fingers pressed against his own lips. "I
know that this is going to come as a great shock to you, my
Padawan, but I do possess some small amount of insight."
He stared in wonder as Qui-Gon leaned closer to him and
pressed a soft kiss against his lips, pulling away before
Obi-Wan could gather his wits enough to respond and he shifted
to speak softly into Obi-Wan's ear.
"I accept your apology, Obi-Wan, and I forgive you." Barely a
sigh and yet it felt as if the weight of Coruscant was lifted
from Obi-Wan's shoulders. Leaning closer to his master, he
wrapped his arms around the older man's waist and just held
him.
"It took you an entire day of meditation to figure out that I
love you?" Obi-Wan asked, his words muffled against Qui-Gon's
chest. He hadn't thought it was that much of a secret.
Certainly Thian had figured it out. He felt Qui-Gon inhale
deeply, sighing before he spoke.
"No. I knew that before I walked out of our quarters this
morning. It was what to do with that love that I meditated on,"
his voice hardened slightly. "As well as about Xanatos."
That had a faintly ominous sound to it, but surely it was all
right? He doubted that Qui-Gon could hold him like this and
still be contemplating leaving. "What did you figure
out?"
"Nothing more than the obvious. I never dealt with what
happened between Xanatos and I. I just pushed it aside until
I'd almost forgotten about it entirely. Today I made myself
recall it, everything. That's what took me so long."
"And?"
"And I let it go. Those memories are not to be forgotten, but
they have nothing to do with my life now. Nothing at
all."
"I meant, what did you decide to do about me?"
Silence greeted that question, and for a moment there was
nothing but soft breathing beneath his ear and the caress of
fingertips barely brushing his cheek as Qui-Gon lightly fondled
his padawan's braid. Obi- Wan doubted the older man was even
aware he was doing it, so lost in thought as he seemed. "I
hadn't," he said finally, thoughtfully, "That's why I was going
home."
Tilting his head up, Obi-Wan rested his chin on Qui-Gon's
chest to look up at him. The older man was leaning back against
the low wall surrounding the balcony. His eyes were closed, a
hand moving to rest on Obi-Wan's back, rubbing gently. For all
his words, he radiated a calm contentment that Obi-Wan was
loathe to disturb. Perhaps he hadn't decided what he wanted but
the fact that he was going to go home spoke for something.
This could be enough, warm and comfortable with each other as
not just master and padawan but as friends. It was more than he
had hoped for and perhaps less than he deserved and yet...as
much as Obi-Wan wanted this, he wanted something more as well
and the only way he was going to get it was to push forward.
His nerves prickled slightly at the thought but he ignored the
tinge of fear. Qui-Gon didn't seem opposed to a relationship
but he also seemed to have no intentions for pushing for one.
It seemed that this would be up to him.
"Master?" he said softly, lifting his head a bit further so
that his breath gusted lightly against Qui-Gon's neck. His
master made a soft questioning sound, his hand pausing on
Obi-Wan's back.
"You told me that you forgive me, yes?" Leaning up, he brushed
his lips against the line of Qui-Gon's jaw, following it to his
ear and relishing the older man's sudden indrawn breath. "You
forgive me. But do you trust me?" He held his breath, waiting
for Qui-Gon to answer, nearly terrified of what his master
would say. His heartbeat was pounding so loudly in his ears by
the time Qui-Gon spoke that he almost missed the soft whisper.
"With my life." There was the faintest tremor in his master's
voice but Obi-Wan took him at his word. Hardly believing his
own daring, Obi-Wan moved forward until he was straddling
Qui-Gon's hips and he reached up to cup the man's face in his
palms.
"Then trust me," Obi-Wan whispered, and softly kissed him. He
traced the seam of Qui-Gon's lips with the tip of his tongue,
begging for entrance and they parted, allowing him to delve
into the warm wetness inside. Not familiar but also not unknown
to him and there was a brief memory of taste and touch before
the moment eclipsed the shadowed recollection.
His hands still holding his master's face, Obi-Wan explored
the features that he couldn't see in the darkness. The beard
was rough against Obi-Wan's fingers, softer skin above, the
smooth plane of the forehead all framed by a length of soft
hair. Caressing with fingers and palms, he learned his master
again by touch, as he had that first night and for once
thinking of that night didn't bring a shaft of pain. Instead
there was the warmth of remembered pleasure, shared ecstasy and
for all that it had been wrong, it had still been wonderful,
Qui-Gon touching him, loving him though he hadn't known who it
was.
Drifting lower, his fingers dipped under the edge of Qui-Gon's
tunics and found warm skin beneath them. They parted like water
beneath his questing hands, stopped only by Qui-Gon's belt and
for the moment Obi- Wan allowed that barrier. He pressed his
palms flat against his master's chest and simply felt, silky
skin covering firm muscles and beneath it beat Qui-Gon's heart,
rapidly, like a scared tarque bird.
Obi-Wan's head sank down to rest against the older man's chest
and he listened to that wild rhythm a moment, the rush of blood
beneath his ear that proved his master lived. Turning his head,
he kissed the spot where his ear had rested, his tongue
flicking out to lap a path to the dark nipple only centimeters
away. Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, his own hands clenching into
fists.
"Obi-Wan..." he started, his voice breaking as his padawan
nipped at the small nub hard enough to send a shock of pain
rippling through him. Obi-Wan sucked the abused flesh gently,
soothing the tiny pain he had caused.
Hand reached up to catch at his shoulders and Obi-Wan flinched
backwards from the touch. "No," he said sharply, then more
gently as he calmed himself. "No, just let me do this, please."
He wasn't ready for that yet, not yet, wanted just a bit more
time to explore his master on his own.
There was no pressure to do this, none, he knew; he could feel
it. If he walked away now, Qui-Gon would let him go without a
word of protest. Not that he had any intentions of leaving, not
with the chance of getting everything he had ever dreamed of
sitting before him, but he was determined to set his own pace.
"Obi-Wan," his master tried again and Obi-Wan heard the
concern in his voice this time, the guilt and he hushed it with
a kiss.
"Shh," Obi-Wan whispered, his breath gusting softly against
Qui-Gon's sensitized lips, "You said you trusted me. Do
you?"
"Yesss..." he hissed, tilting his head back and exposing the
column of his throat to his padawan's interested gaze. He
shifted back up and nibbled against that smooth line, his lips
brushing over the rougher texture of Qui-Gon's beard before
capturing his lips again.
Tongues meeting, they explored each other's mouths greedily.
Obi-Wan sucked gently on Qui-Gon's lower lip, pulling a shiver
from his master as Qui-Gon caught his face in one large hand
and tilted it up, tasting the delicate skin beneath the younger
man's chin.
The tips of Obi-Wan's fingers trailed down to his master's
waist, neatly loosening the belt and sash with the familiarity
of touch. Lifting up, he let Obi-Wan pull the offending
clothing away, the younger man pausing to quickly strip away
his own robes. Bare skin met as they embraced and they both
hissed at the contact, lips meeting again hungrily.
Without releasing his master's lips, Obi-Wan neatly loosened
the ties of Qui-Gon's pants, cupping the firmness of his shaft
briefly through the fabric. Qui-Gon made a pained sound against
his mouth and arched up slightly, his hips seeking and Obi-Wan
complied, slipping a hand between cloth and skin to capture the
satiny length of his master's cock in his palm.
Soft wetness caressed his fingers as Obi-Wan fondled the eager
flesh. He moved closer, stifling a whimper as fought his own
urges. He wanted to hold his proof of his master's need in his
hand, wanted to taste the salt of skin, wanted to rub his own
erection against it and his frustration grew as he was unable
to do all three.
Pulling back completely, ignoring Qui-Gon's cry of protest, he
kicked off his boots, now silently grateful he hadn't fastened
them as he doubted he had the patience to maneuver the half
dozen buckles. He stripped off his pants and tossed them aside,
the pale fabric vanishing into the darkness around them and
forgotten instantly.
Already moving to straddle Qui-Gon again, he fumbled briefly
with his belt before tossing it the way his pants had gone, his
fingers struggling stupidly to find a small tube. Opening it,
he filled his palm with cold gel, letting it warm before he
wrapped his hand again around Qui-Gon's cock.
"Very sure of yourself, aren't you?" Qui-Gon gasped out, eyes
closing as he pushed up into the careful touches that were
preparing him.
"How do you mean?"
"Somehow, I doubt that you carry that with you all the
time."
"One should be prepared for all eventualities," he recited.
Whatever comeback Qui-Gon had been about to say was lost as
Obi-Wan shifted forward, positioning himself. He couldn't help
comparing it to the last time, so markedly different; cold tile
beneath his knees instead of blankets, a soft breeze gusting in
from over the balcony wall to shiver across his skin. And
Qui-Gon seeming to not even be the same person, no cold, closed
anger. He was as open to Obi-Wan as he had ever been, need,
affection, all his emotions laid bare to the padawan's senses.
"Look at me," he ordered and Qui-Gon's eyes opened languidly,
seeming impossibly blue in the dim light. Holding Qui-Gon's
eyes with his own, Obi-Wan lowered himself in carefully
degrees. Hands clutched his hips and Qui-Gon moaned almost
desperately but he didn't break their gaze. Biting his lip,
Obi-Wan pushed down harder and felt just the tip slide inside
him.
It burned, his unprepared body opening reluctantly to the
invasion and Obi-Wan could see the concern in Qui-Gon gaze but
he ignored it. He needed this, just like this, more than he
cared about a tiny bit of pain. Burying his face against his
master's neck, he rocked slightly forward and then back, taking
a little more of that hard length inside with each motion until
his backside was resting on Qui-Gon's thighs.
Sighing in something like relief, Obi-Wan squirmed slightly,
willing his body to relax and accept. Qui-Gon made a soft,
muffled sound against Obi-Wan's shoulder at the movement and
with a smirk the younger man repeated it, dragging a sharp cry
from his master.
Leaning backwards, Obi-Wan rolled his hips forward in an easy
motion, finally allowing Qui-Gon's frantic hands to move him.
The older man was making low, harsh sounds deep in his throat
and Obi-Wan doubted this would last very long and suddenly he
couldn't wait any longer as well, a surge of something that
could only be called pure lust rushing through him. -He- was
the one causing Qui-Gon to make those sounds, his controlled,
contained master wanted him, Obi-Wan, not a nameless stranger,
not Thian, no one but him. They moved as one, delicious
pressure building between them as Obi-Wan managed to slide a
hand between them, clasping his own neglected cock and stroking
in time to the deep lunges inside.
Droplets of sweat slid down his face, stinging in his eyes but
Obi-Wan didn't care, couldn't care. All his attention was
focused on that one point of joining, on the thickness moving
in and out of his body with almost painful urgency. Strong arms
pulled him downward hard and he yelped in surprise and then
nearly screamed as a shock of unsuspecting pleasure jolted him.
Dimly, he knew it was Qui-Gon's pleasure he was feeling, could
feel the surge of liquid warmth inside as his master came,
forcing his own orgasm. They shuddered together, fiery pleasure
ricocheting between them and Obi-Wan lost himself to the
burning sweetness felt both within and without.
Collapsed against Qui-Gon's chest, Obi-Wan was distantly
relieved that the shields were up. The way he felt they could
have broadcast this to the entire Temple by accident and that
would have made it difficult to go to the morning meal the next
day.
Qui-Gon's hand was weakly trailing across his back in what
Obi-Wan assumed was supposed to be a soothing gesture. He
sighed, shifting to lay closer to his master even as he
grimaced at the stickiness between them, evidence of his own
pleasure. Sleep was coaxing him downward but he resisted. One
more thing to do, just one more and then he could rest. He felt
as if he could sleep for a millennium.
"Qui-Gon," he said softly and the older man made a questioning
noise, seeming nearly asleep himself. "Qui-Gon, I forgive
you."
His master stiffened and Obi-Wan wondered briefly if he'd
pushed too far, reminding Qui-Gon of what had occurred between
them before when they were still in the afterglow of what had
just happened. Closing his eyes, his hands tightening into
fists, he waited.
An eternity later, Qui-Gon relaxed, a sigh ruffling the fine
hairs around Obi-Wan's ear as the older man murmured, "Obi-Wan,
I think I might be in love with you."
Silence greeted those words until Obi-Wan managed to say,
dryly, "Thank you for that strong declaration." Qui-Gon laughed
softly, shaking Obi- Wan against his chest and his arms
tightened, holding Obi-Wan close when he would have squirmed
away.
"I love you, my wicked little Padawan," he whispered, nuzzling
Obi- Wan's ear. The tightness in Obi-Wan's chest eased and he
moved to kiss his master, sweet tenderness in their embrace in
the aftermath of their shattering passion. He allowed Qui-Gon
to tip him backwards, hissing in complaint about the cool tiles
against his overheated skin. It was promptly forgotten at the
feel of a warm mouth trailing down his chest.
Knotting his fingers into Qui-Gon's hair, Obi-Wan arched
upward, arousal already rising within him. So different from
the man he had thought he had known, he thought hazily, this
Qui-Gon who was not his master but his lover. Different from
the man had thought that he knew and loved, but he thought he
could get used to it.
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