Archive: MA, the Rising Force; all others, please ask
Category: Romance, smarm
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: A Very Tiny Tale, set about eight years after the
events in After Bandomeer.
Authors Note: Inspired by the Hasbro Plush Buddies. No,
seriously, it was. I have plans for stories that take place
between this one and After Bandomeer, but this story wouldn't
wait its turn. It also served as a nice rest from the rather
Dysfunctional!Qui-Gon who is appearing in one of my works in
progress.
Disclaimer: the usual. Don't own 'em; make no money.
Qui-Gon surfaced slowly from sleep, knowing himself safe and in
no need of caution. His padawan was still asleep, sprawled half
on top of him in the cramped bunk that was all the diplomatic
corvette had to offer in the way of sleeping facilities.
It was the last day on the road and they would be back in their
quarters at Coruscant tonight, eating hot food and drinking
wine instead of canned ale, wearing clean clothes and looking
forward to a few weeks at least of civilized living again.
Yet Qui-Gon noticed a marked reluctance for the mission to be
over, and since such a reaction defied common sense, he gave
the issue more thought.
It had been a grueling five weeks of non-stop travel to aid in
the re-integration of a splintered sovereignty that spread over
three star-systems. The parties they had been negotiating with
refused to meet in person and their mutual religion forbid the
use of holo-projection technologies, and since the two main
factions had splinter groups who considered themselves equally
important to the outcome of the dispute, there were a total of
six planets that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had to visit repeatedly.
It was really a job for a much larger team, and in fact, four
or more skilled negotiators would ordinarily have been given
the task. But an unfortunate outbreak of Febrian Flu on
Coruscant had left the Jedi under-strength, and so the entire
mission had fallen to just two negotiators.
Their days had been filled with more or less acrimonious
meetings, and the nights spent onboard the corvette in transit
to the next meeting, and Qui-Gon had talked and soothed and
cajoled and listened and mediated until he thought he'd really
like to strangle something, preferably something sentient. But
it was over now, the disputes ironed out, the obstacles
overcome, and the last formality dispensed with.
For the past five weeks, the tiny ship that was carrying them
back to the Temple had been their traveling home, and the
single bunk, suitable for one, had been the only bed they had
between the two of them. The corvette's pilot, a diminutive
Denebian, slept curled up in the pilot's chair, and hardly
spoke when awake. It was a strange, rootless nomadic existence.
Yet Qui-Gon had noticed an odd thing; onboard the cramped ship,
he enjoyed more restful sleep than he did in his own spacious
and soft bed on Coruscant, and always awoke cheerful and
optimistic.
He felt the tiny stirrings that indicated that his apprentice
was also emerging from sleep; soon he would be stretching like
a cat.
"Padawan," he murmured, testing Obi-Wan's wakefulness.
"Mmmph," was the answer. This was an all-purpose syllable that
Qui-Gon understood meant, in this context, that Obi-Wan was
awake enough to listen, if not yet awake enough to form words
himself.
"I'm puzzled about something," Qui-Gon told him, confident his
apprentice was attending. "This has not been a comfortable
trip, and these accommodations are as cramped as any we've
encountered, yet I seem to always wake up rested and ready for
anything. How do you account for it?"
Obi-Wan stretched his legs and back; the similarity to a feline
species always amused Qui-Gon. "I always sleep better with you
than I do alone," he murmured into Qui-Gon's chest.
This was a possibility that hadn't occurred to Qui-Gon. "You
think it's our propinquity, then?" he asked.
"Of course it is," his now-awake padawan told him. "At least it
is for me..." He propped himself on one elbow and looked down
on his master. "Being tucked up against that solid wall you
call a chest, hearing your heartbeat in my ear, your arms
around me... it's all very soothing. Womb-like, even."
"Alright, your sleeping next to me makes you feel secure... how
do you account for my sleeping better next to you?" Qui-Gon
asked in the spirit of intellectual inquiry.
Obi-Wan laid his head back down on his master's chest. "I don't
know - maybe I'm your stuffed wookiee."
Qui-Gon smiled at the reminder of the toddler Obi-Wan and his
plush toy. "So your theory is that you sleep better with me
than alone because I'm your mommy, and I sleep better with you
than alone because you're my cuddly comfort-toy?"
"Got any better theories?" Obi-Wan asked.
"No, not really... as a theory, it does have explanatory
power," Qui-Gon mused.
"Well, if you don't mind, Master, we don't reach Coruscant for
another four or five hours, so I think I'll get another couple
hours of sleep. With your permission, of course," Obi-Wan was
already drifting away.
"Excellent use of time, padawan," Qui-Gon agreed, wrapping his
arms around his apprentice again and squeezing just a little
bit. He chuckled softly. "My obi-toy." Both pairs of eyes
closed.
It was night on Coruscant. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had given the
Council their initial report on their successful mission that
afternoon, and the Council had been very pleased to hear it.
Dinner had been hot, seconds had been available, and the
company of their peers in the dining hall had been convivial.
Now back in their shared living quarters, both men were winding
down. Qui-Gon had showered and put on the oldest tunic in his
wardrobe, the one with the soft frays around the back of the
neck, and was now catching up on his guilty pleasure, the
serial novel currently running in the Coruscant Star. Obi-Wan
had gone out briefly after dinner, to take part in a saber
challenge match against some of his friends, and had returned
victorious over an hour ago. He spent a while sorting through
the accumulation of messages he had received in his absence
that had not been forwarded to the field, and was now lounging
on the floor idly thinking about nothing in particular.
Qui-Gon put down his reading at last, thinking it was time to
call it a night, and feeling vaguely nostalgic for the
too-small bunk he'd slept in last night. Then he looked over at
his drowsing padawan, and smiled. "Obi-Wan," he said gently.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes.
"You know, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, after a moment's hesitation,
"the only reason why we should have to sleep alone on Coruscant
would be because one of us prefers it. And I don't. Do you?"
"Do I prefer to sleep alone?" Obi-Wan looked a little surprised
at the question. "No. I don't. I ... I think I hate it,
really."
"Would you rather sleep with me?" Qui-Gon asked, wondering if
he were reopening the question they had dealt with five years
ago.
"Of course I would. Are you asking me?" Obi-Wan looked hopeful.
"Yes, I am. Would you share my bed, Obi-Wan?"
"Gladly, master." Obi-Wan's pleasure was apparent.
"Well, I was just on the point of retiring." Qui-Gon stood up.
"Join me when you wish."
Obi-Wan felt suddenly shy. "I was thinking the same thing,
myself," he said. "If you don't mind..."
Qui-Gon just smiled and left the room, leaving Obi-Wan to trail
after him.
Morning on Coruscant, and Qui-Gon woke gradually. He was happy
this morning, he noted; Obi-Wan's theory clearly had merit. He
tightened his arms around his sleeping apprentice, and rubbed
his face in the young man's hair.
He was not altogether surprised to notice he was fully erect, a
fairly typical consequence of sleeping with a lovely young man
pressed up against him. Especially when the young man in
question was one he was so very fond of.
Qui-Gon had loved Obi-Wan for so long that it seemed sometimes
that he had been born loving him. But it hadn't even been eight
years ago that he had yielded to the inevitable and allowed the
young initiate to become his padawan.
He rather wistfully recalled his young apprentice's teenaged
crush on him...
It is a fairly common thing for Jedi apprentices to develop a
romantic crush on their masters. So common is it, in fact, that
Qui-Gon knew of at least one master who, when his padawan had
successfully achieved knighthood without any outward signs of
ever being in love with his master, had suffered a minor bout
of depression.
So it was something all masters were trained to be on the watch
for, and instructed carefully in how to handle. Still, it was
always a shock, however expected, when it happened to oneself,
Qui-Gon found.
He could tell you to the minute the first time Obi-Wan had felt
a more than student's affection for him. It was at the annual
competitions, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had just prevailed in the
masters-padawans saber challenge. The competition had been
fierce, the final round had pitted them against a very
well-matched team, and Obi-Wan was the youngest padawan ever to
have advanced to the finals in this category.
As they collected the accolades of their peers, Qui-Gon had
cupped Obi-Wan's face in his hands and said, "It becomes harder
and harder to keep my pride in you under control, Padawan."
Surprise had briefly shown itself in Obi-Wan's flushed face.
Surely he wasn't surprised that his master was proud of him?
But an unguarded blast of emotion from his apprentice
enlightened him. He saw, for one second, how he looked through
Obi-Wan's eyes - hair in heroic disarray, sweat gleaming on his
throat and chest, his eyes alight with pride and affection...
before Obi-Wan managed to slam his shields down, Qui-Gon
realized that Obi-Wan had just transformed him into a god.
He managed to cover the young man's immediate embarrassment at
thus exposing himself, drawing him into the circle of his arm
and steering him to accept their laurels. And Obi-Wan made a
fine recovery, saying nothing of the incident at that time.
Things went on in their usual manner for a few weeks, although
Qui-Gon was aware that he was under close scrutiny. But a close
call during a dangerous mission precipitated a declaration.
They had just managed to escape from a nasty ring of
weapons-runners, at no small risk to themselves, and were on
their way via senate transport back to the Temple to report
their findings. Obi-Wan was still in considerable agitation
over how close the blasters had come to depriving him of his
master, and as soon as they were alone in their quarters, he
had dropped to his knees in front of Qui-Gon and expressed an
undying devotion.
The halting words, the uncritical adoration, the beauty of the
young Obi-Wan was almost irresistible. Qui-Gon very badly
wanted to just take what was being offered, but he knew it
would be taking unfair advantage of his position.
So he sat down and drew the young man into his arms, assured
him of his own love, and gave him the prescribed gentle
refusal. Hundreds of years of experience had taught the Jedi
exactly how to turn aside these padawan crushes, and Qui-Gon
was familiar with what to say and why. No mention was made of
Obi-Wan's youth, for example, since this would show a disregard
for his very real emotions, as well as possibly giving him
reason to think that his suit might prosper at some later
point. Padawans who were led to believe that only their age
kept their masters from requiting them often fell into
unhealthy dependencies that needed further counseling.
Qui-Gon had been glad that on that mission, cramped quarters
had again forced them to sleep in the same bed, since any
distance at that point might have grown into something harder
to overcome. But having to share a bed immediately after being
turned down as a lover quickly put an end to any continuing
embarrassment on Obi-Wan's part, and he had gone to sleep in
Qui-Gon's arms, after murmuring "I do love you, Master. And I
always will." Qui-Gon cherished those words.
Now, five years later, Qui-Gon was completely confident that
his padawan still loved him. He wasn't at all sure, however,
just what kind of love Obi-Wan bore for him. He had examined
his own feelings at length, and determined that they were
fixed. Obi-Wan was not only his dearest student, but his
deepest desire. Yet masters were forbidden to initiate
relationships with their adult padawans. If Obi-Wan were to
take the initiative, Qui-Gon would feel no hesitation in
accepting at last.
Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan stirring into wakefulness, turning in
towards his master. He was encouraged to discovered that his
apprentice was experiencing the same arousal he felt. Obi-Wan's
face was pressed into his neck, and he both felt and heard the
young man laugh softly. "Obi-Wan?" he asked gently.
"There's a disadvantage we hadn't considered in sleeping
together at home," his apprentice's muffled voice said softly.
"Here, we have the kind of privacy that we usually do not have
in the field."
"And this is bad because?" Qui-Gon pursued.
"Because it does nothing to discourage me from having ...
inappropriate reactions to your closeness," Obi-Wan told him,
emphasizing his words by nudging his erection into his master's
thigh.
At this, Obi-Wan raised himself up on one elbow and glared down
at his master. The glare faded when he discovered only soft
affection in the blue eyes looking back at him. It vanished
altogether when Qui-Gon gently stroked two fingers down the
side of his cheek.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, uttering a puzzled "Master?",
then grew bold as Qui-Gon trailed his index finger over his
padawan's lips. Leaning down, he pressed those lips gently over
his master's, alert for the slightest sign of withdrawal or
disapproval. No such signs being forthcoming, he gently
introduced his tongue into his master's yielding mouth, probing
and caressing. And still there was no sign of disapproval.
Breaking the kiss, Obi-Wan laid his cheek against Qui-Gon's,
and whispered, "I don't understand. The last time we had this
'conversation'..."
"... was five years ago, Padawan," Qui-Gon reminded him.
Obi-Wan again raised his head to study his master's face,
disbelief warring with hope in his transparent eyes, unwilling
to risk anything more without some surer sign. So Qui-Gon gave
it to him.
"Obi-Wan," he whispered, running a hand over the young man's
hair and lingering at the nape of his neck, "Ask me again."
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