Summary: When Obi-Wan is poisoned during a mission, some very
unexpected side effects result.
Archive: M/A and our sites at http://www.slashcity.com/robin
and http://home.iprimus.com.au/amacker (when its working)
Feedback: Is always appreciated
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: This is a hobby, no money made, honest.
Comments: From Robin: It's been my utter privilege and
pleasure to write with Mac. Damn, she's good!! I think you'll
agree with me. :-> And thanks to Tara T for the spark that
led to this idea.
From Mac: It's Robin's fault, she made me do it! <gg>
But she's a fine writer and much fun to work with. Thanks for
the ride, bud!
Oh, it would be good to get off of this Force-forsaken rock,
Obi-Wan sighed to himself as he paced the gardens of the Heath
palace. Assignments in the Outer Rim were beginning to feel
like a cliché to him. But fear of the Hutts so nearby,
political intrigue and a desire for order and peace were not a
cliché to the people of these worlds, so Obi-Wan was
always careful to be sensitive to the beings he and Qui-Gon
were sent to help.
In this case, a young princess had been kidnapped and the
Heath royal court had suspected the neighboring planet of
Honognr, who were awaiting approval to join the Republic. He
and his Master had spent several sun cycles hopping from
rooftops and scurrying in dark corridors searching for clues
until they finally found the errant princess. It turned out the
rebellious little heiress had decided to run away with her
commoner lover, and had staged her kidnapping rather than face
the wrath of her father, the king.
Obi-Wan had to smile, though. That young woman was a handful!
Whilst trying to free her from her 'captor' in the low-life pub
they found her ensconced in, Qui-Gon had been kicked in the
shin and Obi-Wan had been bitten on the hand. Bitten! By
royalty!
Once they had realized that the girl was there of her own free
will, it was slightly more complicated. It was a domestic
affair, and really no business of the Jedi. However, her little
stunt was causing intergalactic tension, and so they had no
choice but drag her back to the palace-- kicking, screaming,
and still biting. Why Qui-Gon didn't just mentally sedate the
little spit-fire, Obi-Wan couldn't fathom.
The king had not been pleased. Seemed he'd been getting more
vocal about his distaste for the Honognr and was not of a mind
to apologize for the accusation. Thus, Qui-Gon still had some
negotiating to do. Obi-Wan, being of an age not much older than
the princess, had been summarily dismissed. The king had had
enough of childish antics, he's proclaimed. Obi-Wan had bowed
out gracefully, he believed. He'd gone from the king's advisory
chamber with a slightly sympathetic grin from Qui-Gon, and a
promise from the king that the 'adults' would have this
resolved in a few hours.
Well, at least the gardens were a pleasant change from the
dank city streets, Obi-Wan consoled himself. Lots of
interesting species of fauna and blooming flowers. Actually,
they were quite fragrant, he mused. Ah, there was one he'd
never seen. Fuzzy looking petals the colour of a night sky,
with an odd sort of black stripe coming from the center.
He lifted it with gentle fingertips to smell its natural
perfume... but the black stripe leapt at his hand, and Obi-Wan
felt tiny fangs sink into his skin. He shook his hand away
faster than the naked eye could see, but it was too late. Damn
it to all the Sith underworlds!
The little reptilian creature was gone, but his hand throbbed.
He examined it under the light of the sun, seeing that it was
only slightly swollen, just where his thumb creased to the top
of his hand. He brought it to his lips and sucked, then spat to
the mossy ground anything that might have gotten into his
mouth.
He looked to the arched gateway, having sensed his Master's
approach, and began walking to Qui-Gon before he had to call
for him. His Master had a bemused look upon his face-- an
expression that never failed to make Obi-Wan's breath catch. He
had to smile.
"I believe, Master, that I've worn out my welcome on Heath.
That's twice now, that I've been sent away with sharp teeth."
"Obi-Wan?" Oh, but the truly puzzled look was as enjoyable as
the bemused one... but why was Qui-Gon suddenly looking so
blurry? And what was wrong with Heath's gravity? It made him
feel too heavy.
He held up his hand, with more effort than it should have
taken. "I've been bitten again." Why did his voice sound so
odd? Obi-Wan wasn't amused any longer.
"Padawan, I think you should--"
Lay down, yes. He should lay down... His legs gave out from
under him and Qui-Gon gathered him up as darkness rushed over
him. His vision narrowed quickly to Qui-Gon's worried eyes, and
then nothing.
On those occasions when he'd been hurt or ill, Qui-Gon was not
a perfect patient. On the even rarer occasions when Obi-Wan was
ill or hurt, he was even worse. He paced. He sat for a time,
then stood and paced again. He made a quiet, restrained
nuisance of himself asking the Healers for information which
he'd already received. He hovered.
He was a strong man, capable and self-assured, but the sight
of his Obi-Wan lying limp and pale in his arms had shaken him
to the core. Qui-Gon had come to see him as strong, his
ever-present quiet companion, as reliable as his Lightsabre. So
he paced and worried and waited.
Finally, after what seemed like years, the Healers appeared -
and they were relaxed. He let out the tension he'd hardly been
aware of.
"Master Jinn? Yes, he's much better. The local medical centre
had an antitoxin for the Spidergrub on hand and it took only a
little genetic alteration to make it suitable for young
Obi-Wan. As you were told, the poison is a nasty neural toxin,
fast acting and often fatal. Your quick-thinking and the young
man's natural resilience kept him going until we could treat
him."
Qui-Gon nodded, hands tucked inside his robe sleeves, as he
turned to follow the Healer back into Obi-Wan's room. "Any
after effects?"
"None, that we can find. He will be a little weak for a time,
perhaps experience some nausea and vomiting, but his readings
are already almost up to normal. See for yourself!"
He stood next to the bed and watched the slow rise and fall of
Obi-Wan's chest and sat down in the chair carefully, trying to
sort out his feelings. In sleep, Obi-Wan seemed so vulnerable,
so defenseless, the colour only just now returning to his
cheeks. He untangled the braid and laid it across Obi-Wan's
chest and gently laid one hand on the pale cheek, felt the
warmth, sensed the steady heartbeat.
//So close. Such a stupid, senseless way to lose him. After
all the fights and dangers, to have died from a bite!//
He was still sitting there, waiting with restrained patience,
when the eyelashes stirred on Obi-Wan's cheeks and his eyes
opened. Dazed, his focus wandered until he saw Qui-Gon, and
then he woke.
"Don't try to speak, the toxin will have affected your vocal
chords. Are you thirsty? Nod if yes."
Obi-Wan nodded, closed his eyes again and tried to swallow.
Qui-Gon put the cup to his mouth and held his head as he drank,
rationing the water out in small swallows. When Obi-Wan
motioned he'd finished, he lowered his head down and put the
cup aside.
"You will recall you were bitten. It was a little monster
called a Spiderslug, highly poisonous at this time of year. You
apparently disturbed its search for a mate. Things were a
little difficult there for a while."
"Yes.." Obi-Wan whispered, swallowing carefully. "I feel..."
He sat up abruptly and Qui-Gon grabbed the bowl provided for
the purpose. He held Obi-Wan's shoulders as he emptied the
contents of his stomach, wiped his face with a damp cloth and
propped up his pillows.
The Healers arrived at that moment and began checking their
patient for after-effects. He was scanned, tested and read
until he was left, pale and exhausted, ready to sleep again. As
he turned his head to the pillow, Obi-Wan pressed his face into
Qui-Gon's hand and sighed, before sliding into sleep.
There was a lot of leaning over the side of the bed, Qui-Gon
crooning to him and holding his head while he retched. There
were blurred visions of his Master running a cool cloth over
his hot face, and it felt so nice. Mostly there was the feeling
that he was perfectly safe and that Qui-Gon would let nothing
harm him while he was weak.
He knew they were on a transport headed for home, the temple
on Coruscant; he had a vague recollection of Qui-Gon placing
him in the narrow bunk. Oh, he wanted to be home again. Just he
and Qui-Gon, in their own quarters, with some much needed
downtime to themselves. And when he was strong again, he would
re-claim his place at Qui-Gon's side in the field. When he was
strong again. How long would that be, when he couldn't tell one
day from the next?
It felt like a dream when they moved him from the transport to
a temple gurney. He had the oddest feeling that Qui-Gon laughed
when he insisted he could walk to their quarters. But he
supposed he didn't walk after all, as he didn't remember
anything after his Master's warm chuckle.
His most lucid thought in what seemed like days came when he
woke with a pounding headache and realized he was in his room
at the temple... his Padawan room in Qui-Gon's quarters. Now
that was odd. Why was he not in Qui-Gon's room? He glanced out
the window. It was indeed the middle of the Coruscant night
cycle.
Knowing his cautious Master, he hadn't wanted to disturb his
Padawan's sleep, especially in his condition. Obi-Wan smiled.
Qui-Gon should know better; he couldn't sleep nearly as well
when he wasn't snuggly fit against his Master's warm body.
Yawning hugely, Obi-Wan stood slowly. The room turned in
wobbly circles until Obi-Wan breathed deeply and centered
himself. He snatched up his pillow and trudged out of his room.
It was dark in the common room, and it seemed to tilt just to
his left. It was disorienting, but he could see Qui-Gon's door
was ajar. He tiptoed to the door, fighting to keep his balance,
and stopped short at the sight; Qui-Gon lay on his back, sound
asleep, shuttle traffic light illuminating his golden skin.
His blankets covered him to his waist, and one had rested,
loosely curled, on his belly. He crept closer and knelt, just
caressing Qui-Gon's sleep softened features with his eyes. He
silently blessed the Force to have this man in his life. I love
you, he mouthed silently and then rose shakily.
He made his way to the other side of the bed, carefully turned
back the covers, and gently climbed in so that the dip in the
bed wouldn't rouse his weary Master. And if he'd cared for
Obi-Wan the way he remembered, he had to be weary.
Curling into a ball, Obi-Wan snuggled as close as he dared
without waking Qui-Gon. He sighed contentedly. Now it felt
right. Now he could sleep.
His sleep was alive with images, emotions and sensations. The
feeling of Qui-Gon's large hands tending him while he was ill.
The stirrings of love that his Master's compassion evoked in
him, and the image of those full lips caressing his forehead
and cheek so softly.
Despite the constant activity of his mind, Obi-Wan felt
incredibly refreshed when he woke. He felt stronger and more
sure than he ever had. Oh yes, sleeping next to his lover had
been just the remedy to get his strength back. He stretched his
legs out straight, reveling in the tingle of awakening muscle,
and stifled a yawn.
He turned to Qui-Gon and plastered himself next to the larger
body. His cheek fit so perfectly on his Master's shoulder. He
turned his head and pressed a kiss to warm, soft skin. Mmm. It
felt so good. Eyes closed, Obi-Wan moved his kisses to
Qui-Gon's neck, opening his mouth a little to taste-- ahhh, the
tang of Qui-Gon's body, so rich and satisfying on his tongue.
When his Master awoke, he wanted to taste even more of him, the
most intimate flavors of him. But for the moment, he was
content with languid kisses and the pleasure of full body
contact. It couldn't be more perfect, Obi-Wan thought.
Qui-Gon woke from a ideal dream. It was a familiar dream, one
where he was holding Obi-Wan in his arms, being kissed and held
by him, surrounded by the warmth of that perfect young body. He
sighed as he opened his eyes, letting the dream fade away -
Only to find it had crept through into reality. Frozen by
surprise, he turned his eyes to find his Padawan lying next to
him in a very intimate embrace. Sleepy blue/green eyes were
mere inches from his and as he turned his head Obi-Wan leant
forward to press his lips to Qui-Gon's neck.
"Good morning, Qui," he said, mouth and tongue lapping gently
at the skin under Qui-Gon's ear. "Before you ask, I feel much
better." A hand slid over his hip beneath the coverings,
heading down towards his groin. "And I just need one thing to
make me feel perfect." Before Qui-Gon could even take a breath,
that hand swooped down to cup him with astonishing familiarity.
He rolled over and backwards, practically pushing Obi-Wan
away. "Obi-Wan - what in the name of the Force is the matter
with you!"
Looking no more than mildly surprised, Obi-Wan moved across
the bed and tried to embrace Qui-Gon again. "Well, I'm feeling
fine now, really. I just need a good fucking from my Master to
make me feel like a new Padawan."
If Obi-Wan had said he was quitting the Jedi, Qui-Gon couldn't
have been more shocked. Fuck? This wasn't right, wasn't his
sane, normal Obi-Wan! He took one of the hands trying to touch
him, let Obi-Wan wrap himself around him and sent a deep probe
through their link. It was a touch unethical but desperate
times called for desperate measures . . .
It was all there, a reality imprinted over Obi-Wan's mind like
a blanket. Padawans often had fantasies about their Masters, it
wasn't unusual at all. Yet somehow Obi-Wan's fantasy had become
intermingled with his reality, so that he couldn't tell one
from the other. In his mind, his Master and he were lovers.
//Oh, such a sweet fantasy, so easy to accept those touches,
those lips.// He gently rested his hands at the junction of
Obi-Wan's shoulder and throat, pressed lightly and gathered the
limp body to him as his Padawan slumped unconscious. He
hesitated for a moment, then bent to place a kiss on the face
resting against his shoulder. All there was for him, perhaps,
of that wonderful fantasy life.
And remain a fantasy it must, Qui-Gon knew. It was apparent
that the neural toxin had something to do with his Padawan's
confused state of mind. And this was a dangerous fantasy to
confuse with reality. With a sigh, Qui-Gon gently extricated
himself from the bed. Obi-Wan had to be taken to the healers
immediately. He brushed his hand across his Padawan's forehead
then donned his clothes quickly.
He hovered over the healers and watched everything they did
intently, as oblivious to their irritation as he was to the odd
looks he had received as he carried his unconscious apprentice
through the Temple corridors. He was a Master with a singular
mission: to see to it that Obi-Wan became healthy again,
physically and psychologically.
Finally, he was rather bodily escorted to the waiting room of
that ward of the infirmary. The healer who dragged him there
assured him that they aspired to the same goals concerning
Obi-Wan's health. With an exasperated sigh, he sat on a waiting
bench and tried to stare through the door, to will himself to
see what was happening to Obi-Wan.
After an hour of imagining everything from the worst scenario
to the best, he was shown back inside. The healer handling
Obi-Wan's case, a humanoid, instructed Qui-Gon to sit in the
chair next to his Padawan's bed. Unconsciously, he took
Obi-Wan's still hand and looked expectantly at the healer.
"The neural toxin was indeed neutralized, Master Jinn.
However, there were side effects from the antitoxin. It worked
by blocking the venom's path to Obi-Wan's synapses; that was
done by numbing the synapses, making the venom believe that
there were actually no viable nerve endings to attack. So, the
toxin basically found nothing to destroy, and atrophied. The
problem now is that many of Obi-Wan's synapses have not yet
regained their life, and so many of his memories are re-routing
themselves in his mind."
Qui-Gon took the healer's pause as an opportunity to absorb
the information. His mind grasped the basics; Obi-Wan's
pathways to thought were numbed so that the venom wouldn't
attack them? He thought he was beginning to see.
"His neural pathways are not routed where they should be yet,
and so his thoughts are routing fantasy to reality?"
"Exactly, Master Jinn," the healer seemed pleased at his
comprehension.
"But if these synapses are merely 'numb', they will eventually
regain their functionality again, correct? And he will be able
to distinguish a true memory from a fantasy?"
"Yes, again. But this might take some time, Master. These
thought pathways have to search out their original connections,
and there are billions of them to sort through. The good news
is that he is out of physical danger."
Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan's unconscious face. Force, he
looked so vulnerable. He wondered for a moment what it must be
like to not know if a memory was real or not. The thought of it
made him shudder.
"Yes, I know that the fantasy that is confused in his mind
raises a dilemma for you," the Master Healer said
sympathetically. Qui-Gon glanced up sharply at that. He
realized that the healer had anticipated his next question. "I
have to tell you Master Jinn, that it could be quite traumatic
to have to be told that what he imagines is real, is not. It
would be best not to force that truth on him, but to let him
come to the realization himself."
"But I can't-- I cannot allow anything to come of his belief!
That would be unethical for one, and personally appalling for
another."
The healer started at Qui-Gon's vehemence and he realized he'd
misunderstood.
"What I mean is that I could never take advantage of my
Padawan in that way. The thought of doing so is repulsive,"
Qui-Gon clarified with his tone softened. The healer nodded
with compassion.
"I understand. I leave it to your discretion how to avert his
need to act out this fantasy. Just remember that to completely
reject him before he comes to understand what is real, could be
harmful."
Qui-Gon exhaled a long breath. "Understood."
"Perhaps he should be taken off the Temple grounds, to a
healing facility on the other side of the planet? We have a
recuperative facility with private gardens. It's at surface
level, and thus the grounds are extensive, allowing us some
secluded quarters," the healer suggested.
Qui-Gon was puzzled. "Why would he need such facilities if he
is no longer in physical danger?"
The healer smiled. "Because it will mean less chance that
Obi-Wan will inadvertently meet with someone who could
prematurely disabuse him of the reality of your relationship.
It would be just as traumatic to hear from someone else that
you two are not lovers, as it would be to hear it from you."
"It's quite alright, Master Jinn. You have much to consider
and this problem is complex. I'll alert the facility
coordinator that you and Obi-Wan will be arriving this
afternoon. I suggest you pack a bag and collect your Padawan in
about one hour."
Qui-Gon stood and clasped the healer's hands in his own. "I'm
indebted to you, Master Healer." He bowed shortly.
"It is my duty and privilege to help you both."
Obi-Wan was quiet during the transport to the West Temple
Recuperation Centre. He had accepted Qui-Gon's explanation that
the antitoxin was having some side effects that caused him to
have memory gaps and that they needed to be at the facility to
monitor his progress in a safe, relaxing environment. But
Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan sensed his nervousness. Obi-Wan had
always hated to be a burden.
Qui-Gon was grateful that there was a score of other
passengers on the transport, thus requiring discretion with
public displays of affection. He noted with a small smile,
though, that Obi-Wan did subtly squeeze his hand now and then,
hiding the gesture under the sleeve of his robe. Try as he
might, he couldn't make himself regret that Obi-Wan so needed
that fleeting physical contact. It was so innocent, and so
unconscious that it plucked at the most tender spots inside of
Qui-Gon every time the younger man did it.
When they arrived at the unpretentious front entrance to the
recuperation facility, Obi-Wan took his own pack from him,
shouldered it, and offered him a sunny smile. "It's only for a
while, right? And then we can get our lives back."
"Yes, Padawan, you are right." But it struck a sad chord
inside him that Obi-Wan didn't realize that the life he'd
regain was not the one he thought it would be.
Obi-Wan took in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh.
Logically he knew the Healers and Qui-Gon had done the right
thing. Emotionally, he was still uncertain. He felt really well
and, aside from a few incidents of dizziness and a little
disorientation, he seemed perfectly healthy.
Still, if he had to be recuperated, there were uglier places
to be. The grounds were lushly wooded and beautifully
landscaped and birds and small animals had been released to
give it a properly balanced ecology. There was even a small
swimming lake set in the middle of the woods,
temperature-maintained and sparkling clean.
It would be really quite pleasant, if he could only understand
why Qui-Gon was being so distant. He'd accepted the small
touches and even responded a little in public, which was
unusual for him, yet Obi-Wan sensed he was holding himself
back.
It was night by the time they arrived and settled into their
comfortable lodgings. Their quarters looked out onto the
central gardens through a perplex wall that could be shaded
from transparency to nearly opaque for privacy. Though fairly
plain, the room had comfortable sofas, an entertainment unit,
vid and book stocks and a computer terminal. It also had two
large beds. He went to one of the beds, pulled off his boots
and stretched out with his arms behind his head. Either he was
more weary than he'd thought or the ambience of the place got
to him - - he realised he'd dozed off and opened his eyes to
find Qui-Gon standing by the bed looking down at him with the
oddest expression on his face. It was almost - - sad.
He sat up slowly, pushing a little wave of dizziness aside,
and held out his hand. After a second's hesitation, Qui-Gon
took it and sat beside him.
"You look a little disturbed, Qui. I'm fine, really." He
smiled and reached out to gently push a long fall of hair away
from his lover's face. "I could do with being held, though. It
seems like a lifetime since the last hug."
There was no hesitation then as he slid sideways into the open
arms. He nestled his head under Qui-Gon's chin, felt the
comforting warmth of the familiar, strong body wrap itself
around him. "Have I told you lately," he said, as he pressed
his lips to Qui's throat, "how much I love you?"
The hands on his back tightened slightly. "Not recently. . ."
Obi-Wan moved his lips down the length of throat. "Then let me
tell you again," he said, as he kissed the warm skin at the
opening of the multiple layers of tunic.
"Obi-Wan, you must remember what the Healers said: no
stressful activity."
The Voice of Reason made him growl with frustration. "But I
feel fine! And really horny!"
Qui-Gon's chest rumbled with a brief laugh. "So I see.
However, as you well know, where alien toxins are concerned,
feeling well means nothing." He was carefully dislodged as his
frustrating lover stood. "I will wash and change. I think we
both need some sleep after the last few days."
By the time Qui-Gon emerged from the 'fresher Obi-Wan had
stripped down to his usual sleeping gear of just a pair of
briefs and was already under the covers. Qui was wearing his
light sleeping gear: a mid-thigh length sleeveless tunic tied
at the waist with a soft sash and briefs beneath. Aside from
straight-out nudity, it was the most erotic thing he could
wear, though he was totally unaware of its affect.
He sat on the edge of the bed and rifled in his bag for a few
seconds before locating his hairbrush. As he went to undo the
tie at the back Obi-Wan slid across the bed and reached around
him for the brush.
"I think I can probably manage to do that," he said, smiling.
Qui-Gon handed the brush over without a word. After untying the
strap holding back the side lengths, Obi-Wan began working the
brush through the long fall of hair. As always, it was a
tranquil time for them both - Qui-Gon relaxed under the
pleasant sensation, his head tipping back slightly to allow
Obi-Wan to reach the sides.
He loved that hair, loved to touch it, to brush it in regular
sweeps until it lay shining down the length of Qui's back.
Sliding forward, he dropped the brush to the floor, wrapped his
arms and legs around Qui-Gon's body and rested his face against
the smooth hair. "I'm really tired of being sick," he muttered
as Qui-Gon's hands rested over his where they had slipped
inside the tunic. "Can't we just. . ."
"Patience, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, dislodging Obi-Wan and
gently pushing him back. "Sleep, recover. There is plenty of
time for other things." Feeling a little like the child he no
longer was, Obi-Wan let himself be tucked in. He rolled onto
his side as Qui-Gon climbed in, watched him pile up his pillows
and settle back to read a datapad. It was so familiar, so
ordinary that without realizing it he drifted off to sleep.
Qui-Gon stared, unseeing, at the datapad in his hands. He was
acutely aware of Obi-Wan lying so close, could almost feel the
warmth of his regard. He forced himself to read the meaningless
words, concentrated on the screen until he had regained a
portion of his normal serenity.
Serenity wasn't easily gained after a day of such intense
emotion. Was that why, he wondered, so few Jedi took mates? /
/We strive for a life of emotional restraint until we remove
ourselves from what it is that makes us human.// He wondered
which way was more natural, and therefore more at one with the
Force. . .
Affection stirred at the corners of his mind like faintly
heard music. It brushed against his senses, warming him with
unaccustomed pleasure. While Obi-Wan had been the best of
Padawans, their relationship had been restrained. They were
both, by nature, reserved people not accustomed to
demonstrations of emotion. To know that his apprentice had
sexual fantasies about him was one thing, to experience the
reality of that unabashed craving was quite another.
A Jedi Master's lauded control would have been welcome at that
moment, Qui-Gon decided. A Master he was, but also a man, he
admitted at last. Most surprising of all, a man with desires
and feelings of his own to contend with. Obi-Wan, for all that
he did not realize it, was eroding his self control. It was
also a revelation. It had forced him to acknowledge that as far
as his own emotions were concerned, his love for the young Jedi
had no limits at all.
After what felt like an eternity, Obi-Wan slipped into a quiet
sleep. Qui-Gon sighed in relief and turned gently on his side,
finally allowing himself to look upon his Padawan's face.
Smooth and unlined, his expression in sleep spoke of trust.
Unthinking, he lifted one hand, but stopped himself before he
could trace the dimple in Obi-Wan's chin.
Oh, my Padawan. what am I to do with you? Qui-Gon's mouth
curled into a rueful smile.
Sighing, he placed the datapad on the bedside table and
relaxed into his pillow. He'd have to take each moment as it
arrived. He had to admit, though, having Obi-Wan curled next to
him in bed, warm and peaceful, felt wonderful. His eyes drifted
and in moments, he joined Obi-Wan in sleep.
Mmm. The solid press of Obi-Wan's body slowly awakened him.
The young man's hand swept along his back in long, lazy
circles. Obi-Wan's soft lips skimmed his neck. Qui-Gon breathed
deeply, the smell of the young man's hair filling his lungs
pleasantly.
It felt so good. Qui-Gon was in that wonderful place between
dreams and the waking world, here he could stretch, feel, and
let his body waken with languid ease. His arms tightened around
Obi-Wan's body, and one hand cupped the generous curve of one
buttock...
Oh, Force... his hand was on Obi-Wan's bottom? When had his
hand slipped inside Obi-Wan's briefs? His eyes opened as
wakefulness suddenly seemed a rude intrusion. What was he
doing?
Obi-Wan's head tilted upward and silky lips ghosted over his
cheeks. He was so hard he ached, and Obi-Wan's hunger for him
battered at his will to stop before it was too late.
"Obi-Wan, we mustn't--"
Then the warm mouth descended on his. Sweet and slow, Obi-Wan
kissed him, his soft tongue painting his lips. He couldn't help
it, his own lips parted, and the gentle tongue slipped inside.
Deeply, Obi-Wan drank of him, love and need pouring from the
younger man until Qui-Gon thought he would explode.
Obi-Wan's thigh insinuated between his legs, and began to rub.
He squeezed the firm buttock still in his hand, torn between
the need to come and his conscious will to stop... "Stop!" he
gasped.
He pulled back, both his mouth and his lecherous hand.
Obi-Wan's expression was alarmed and not a little hurt. "Easy,
my Obi-Wan, have pity on an old man," Qui-Gon soothed, the lie
coming easier than he would have liked, but needing it. "It is
barely dawn. We have time, Obi-Wan. Let us rest," he added
tenderly, and with an affectionate caress to Obi-Wan's tousled
hair. That touch was accompanied by a discreet Force
suggestion.
The young man's eyes closed, and a smile curled his lips.
Qui-Gon held him a loose embrace and kissed his forehead
lightly as sleep claimed Obi-Wan again.
He exhaled a shaky breath. Just what did he think he was
doing? He had to regain control of himself. He rose from the
bed and paced, willing his persistent erection to fade. He
could still taste his Padawan's sweetness on his lips, though,
and the battle with his body was not easily won.
Win it he did, though, and then he sat at the computer
terminal to peruse the information about the facility. He had
to plan some sort of schedule for them; he had to find a way to
provide distraction and activity to help him combat the
unwitting seduction of his apprentice. This was not going to be
easy.
Easy wasn't a word that Obi-Wan used at any time during their
morning's activities. While his Master seemed concerned about
putting his Padawan through certain types of stress, those
didn't seem to include physical activities. Just reading the
list had been tiring - a session of Sho-Mond, a five mile run
around the centre's jogging track, a climb up the artificial
mountain, with no Force assistance beyond that needed to
prevent injury and a second level unarmed combat Kata series -
all before lunch. To say the least, Obi-Wan worked up a sweat.
Qui-Gon had been at his most Jedi-Masterly all the time, too,
instructing and watching, working with him as he had during
their first years together. He'd been almost distant, though it
wasn't quite that. Obi-Wan could sense the warmth and concern
coming from Qui-Gon, but there was something else, something he
couldn't quite put his finger on. He was shielding, too,
keeping his Padawan at a distance psychically as well as
physically. For all his stated concern for Obi-Wan's well
being, it didn't quite ring true.
They collected a package lunch before heading to the lake for
a swim. It was a popular spot, with a dozen other Jedi swimming
in or relaxing by it - for whatever reason, water always seemed
to have an invigorating and relaxing effect on Force
sensitives, even if one was only watching it. Qui-Gon to simply
watch as Obi-Wan stripped to his briefs and dived into the pure
cool water. He thrashed around for some time, sprinting back
and forth across the lake's width before returning to shore and
picking up the folded towel with a smile.
His muscles proclaimed fatigue, but Obi-Wan was rejuvenated
nonetheless. He shook his head briskly, spraying lake-water
droplets in every direction, including that of his lightly
dozing Master. One eye opened and fixed an cerulean glare upon
him, but it was too late; Obi-Wan had already seen the
indulgent quirk of Qui-Gon's lips.
Obi-Wan grinned and then eased to his knees onto the blanket
Qui-Gon had spread out in the grass by the lakeshore. Sighing
contentedly, he reached into the sack of food his Master had
also thought to bring for them.
"There is plenty of fruit and cold meat, Padawan. Eat your
fill," Qui-Gon said, eyes closed once again as he basked in the
peaceful day. Obi-Wan stopped, hand still in the bag, and
watched Qui-Gon fondly. His Master feeling truly tranquil was a
welcome sight, and an all too rare one in Obi-Wan's estimation.
"Thank you, Master," he finally replied softly, and for more
than just Qui-Gon's thoughtfulness in bringing food for them.
Every now and again, Obi-Wan would come upon a moment in which
it would strike him just how very much he loved Qui-Gon. Time
would stand still in those moments, and Obi-Wan could simply
let the warmth of his feelings ripple through him.
His eyes roved over Qui-Gon's chest, so strong and broad, with
dark nipples peaked on the sun-kissed skin. He wore light
leggings that clung to powerful thighs, and one large hand
rested on his hip. Those hands had soothed him, guided him and
shielded him since he'd become Qui-Gon's apprentice; and they
had stroked and pleasured him since he'd become his lover.
Qui-Gon's physical presence was imposing and protective
indeed, but those traits were only the corporeal embodiment of
what his Master was to him. It was Qui-Gon's heart and
compassion that stirred Obi-Wan so profoundly, and was what
made his heart squeeze when he looked at his Master during
these golden moments.
"Padawan, do you plan to eat today?" Qui-Gon teased.
Obi-Wan snapped out of his daydream to see his Master watching
him keen amusement. He grinned, only a little embarrassed that
his lover had caught him at such adoring appraisal, and he
pulled a piece of keena fruit from the bag.
He bit into the tender flesh, and tangy juice ran down his
chin. Sweet, ripe fruit, Coruscant's own private paradise, and
Qui-Gon by his side-it was more than Obi-Wan could have ever
hoped for.
So different than what their daily lives and duty demanded
from them. Often, they were lucky to get a decent meal at all
while on a mission, let alone a chance to relax in such a way
as this. Although there was that one time...
"What is going on in that head of yours now, Obi-Wan? Should I
be afraid to ask?" Qui-Gon smiled, sat up and leaned against
the generous trunk of the tree that partially shaded their
blanket.
"I was just remembering that last mission to Philar," he
answered, not hiding his lascivious smile. Qui-Gon cocked his
head, clearly puzzled. "How could you forget? After we returned
the stolen crystals to the royal family? We actually had the
whole night to ourselves, with no interruptions? I shall never
forget it, I promise you." Oh, that had been some night!
Obi-Wan laid down and pillowed his head on Qui-Gon's thigh,
staring up at Qui-Gon's face as he relived the memory.
"Remember? Communications had not yet been restored, so there
was nothing we could do but keep each other company until the
transport came for us in the morning. You tried to be so gentle
with me, but I wanted to see you wild and impassioned. It
wasn't easy, getting you to loosen your control, but oh when
you did-you were amazing."
Qui-Gon's expression softened as Obi-Wan spoke, and he thought
he saw a flash of melancholy in his Master's eyes. Qui-Gon's
fingers carded through his damp hair, and the sensation had an
almost hypnotic effect on him. Obi-Wan's voice was much softer
when he continued.
"I'll never forget how you looked. Your hair hung down around
your face as you thrust into me and your eyes grew wide as you
made love to me with more force than you ever had before. Mmm,
but the best was when you threw your head back and cried out my
name as you came. I could feel you filling me with your seed,
leaving me with a part you that would always be inside me. My
own climax was nothing compared to the joy I saw on your face
at that moment, seeing with my own eyes and feeling deep inside
how much you love me."
Qui-Gon's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "You are such a gift,
Obi-Wan." His voice was tight.
"I do love you too, Qui-Gon. I get the feeling that I don't
tell you often enough." Obi-Wan didn't know exactly why, but he
felt it important that Qui-Gon truly understand that; that
Obi-Wan did love him, so much.
Qui-Gon's fingers continued to run through his hair, and that
combined with his Master's affectionate smile worked to create
a languid feeling all over him.
"I do know that you love me, Obi-Wan. Now, you've had an
exhausting day. So rest. Enjoy the warmth. I'll be right here,
my Padawan."
Yes, rest sounded like a fine idea. Qui-Gon was a comfortable
pillow, and the peace of this place was undeniable. He closed
his eyes and nuzzled into Qui-Gon's thigh, the memory of this
day tucked away into his treasury of moments with his Master.
The day had gone according to plan, much to Qui-Gon's relief--
until the swim, that is. Obi-Wan had been unaware of the sight
he made, water beading on his smooth skin and the glide of
toned muscles filling out his formerly slender Padawan. Obi-Wan
didn't have to try anymore to make his Master see that he was
no longer a child. Ironically, believing that he had already
attained his dream of being Qui-Gon's lover had allowed Obi-Wan
to carry himself with a sense of confidence that garnered much
of the Master's attention.
When Obi-Wan had settled himself with his head on Qui-Gon's
lap as if it were the most natural thing in the universe, it
was nearly his undoing. It would have been so easy to dip his
head and take those soft lips in a voluptuous kiss. Temptation
was a formidable adversary in those moments.
So Qui-Gon had to be sure that he rebounded for the rest of
the day. He allowed Obi-Wan a short nap by the lake, giving the
Padawan a much needed rest and giving himself desperately
needed break to meditate and regroup.
Feeling refreshed, Qui-Gon then roused Obi-Wan for yet another
training session, this one with the remotes to work on
reflexes. When he sensed that Obi-Wan again reached an
acceptable level of fatigue, he sent him to the showers. All he
had left for the day was evening meal, some academic training
to occupy his Padawan for the night, and then bed... Well, he'd
deal with bed when the time came. He decided to heed his own
advice and concentrate on the moment.
Fresh from the shower in his casual attire, Obi-Wan was
visibly disappointed when Qui-Gon told him they'd be dining in
the mess hall, but he took it in stride and even joked a
little. "If I didn't know you better, Qui, and I do know you
better, I'd say you didn't want to be alone with me."
It was difficult, but Qui-Gon managed not to blanch at that
statement. "Obi-Wan, fond as I am of your company, we cannot
hide away from the Order. It is good for us both to be in the
company of our fellow Jedi."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered dutifully but with definite
sparkle.
Qui-Gon was pleased to find the mess hall rather crowded,
making it necessary to share a table. An expectant young knight
and her bondmate, a more seasoned knight, were their dinner
companions, and the conversation was lively. Erisha was due to
deliver at any time and her tales of a kicking little being
inside her had Obi-Wan surprisingly entranced. In between huge
portions of roasted meat and vegetables, that is; the boy's
appetite was astounding.
Qui-Gon watched with a smile as Erisha placed Obi-Wan's hand
on her distended belly once their dinner plates had been
removed by the service droids. Qui-Gon laughed outright when
his Padawan's hand flew backward as if he'd been shocked.
"It's a baby, Obi-Wan, quite harmless, I assure you," Knight
Breen said with a grin.
Erisha laughed. "Now, Breen, be fair. You did the same thing
the first time you felt her kick."
Qui-Gon quirked an eyebrow, thoroughly amused as he watched
the exchange. Breen had the grace to blush at his bonded's mild
admonishment. "Yes, my love, I did. Go on, Obi-Wan, try again.
Erisha obviously does not mind," he added.
Glancing at Qui-Gon first, Obi-Wan placed his hand on the
stomach again, his smile broadening as he obviously felt the
child yet again. "It's amazing, Erisha. I'm so happy for you
both."
It was obvious to Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan meant it. The boy's
happiness and contentment radiated from him distinctly. When
they finally bade the couple goodnight and began the walk to
their quarters, Obi-Wan seemed so at peace; exhausted but
appearing to be very content. Luck, and or the Force, was with
Qui-Gon, he thought, as they strolled the corridor that led
them from the dining hall.
Again, Qui-Gon had managed to surprise him. Obi-Wan had been
disappointed when he learned that they would be dining in the
mess hall, but his Master had been right; it was good to have
dining companions. Erisha had been charming, and Breen had been
amusing as the expectant father. Their happiness was
contagious, he realized.
He gazed at the tapestries and wall hangings as they made
their way out of the mess hall, further reveling in the peace
that pervaded him. An oil painting caught his eye and he
stopped to take a closer look. The palace depicted seemed oddly
familiar to him.
He cocked his head to try to imagine it from a different
angle.
"Padawan?" Qui-Gon sounded worried.
"Oh, I'm fine... it's just that this palace-- it seems
familiar to me." Was that Kalan? Where he and Qui-Gon had
strolled the ornate gardens hand in hand? No, wait... he seemed
to recall sulking in those gardens, Qui-Gon having retired to
meditate alone.
The two memories seemed to do battle for a moment, each
jockeying for position in his mind. He shook his head, a
fruitless effort to make the memories fall into their proper
order. Ah, perhaps Qui-Gon had come back for him after his
meditation, and the stroll had been a reconciliation for
Qui-Gon having left him to his own devices... but the
reconciliation was nowhere to be found in his memory.
"Master? Do you remember Kalan? The gardens there?"
"They were extraordinary, were they not?" Qui-Gon answered
gently-- almost cautiously?
Obi-Wan nodded, continuing to study the painting as the
memories began to calm. He sighed, deciding not to force his
mind. This was probably what Qui-Gon was referring to when he'd
explained that the side effects of his treatment had caused
memory gaps. That reconciliation had to have taken place. It
was the only thing that made sense.
"Obi-Wan? Are you all right?" A large hand settled warmly on
his shoulder. He turned his eyes to his Master. The concern in
Qui-Gon's eyes touched him deeply.
"I'm fine, Qui-Gon. Really. I think I'm just tired. I should
probably rest now." He settled his hand over Qui-Gon's and
smiled his reassurance. He was certain that the memory gaps
would be bridged and that things would make sense again soon.
"I agree, Padawan. Rest is an excellent idea."
He took one more quick glance at the painting, and the two
headed again for their quarters.
Qui-Gon could not be certain, but he had the feeling that
Obi-Wan's memories were beginning to order themselves. The
painting had obviously triggered some recollection of Kalan,
the gardens in particular. The way in which Obi-Wan had asked
him about them made Qui-Gon believe that there was some
confusion in his Padawan's mind about them. His best guess was
that Obi-Wan's true memories were beginning to conflict with
his fantasies. If that was indeed the case, then Obi-Wan's mind
was finally beginning to heal itself, and recovery was on the
horizon.
Obi-Wan had a distracted air about him for the remainder of
the evening. He went through his academic drills with little
trouble, but more than once he furrowed his brow in
concentration-- more than he ordinarily would have needed for
these exercises.
When the hour was late enough to prepare for bed, Obi-Wan was
a physically and psychologically exhausted apprentice, and
Qui-Gon was an anxious Master. He'd been waiting for Obi-Wan to
heal, but now that it was likely happening, he had to wonder
how Obi-Wan would feel when faced with the realization that
he'd been trying to live his fantasy life.
He was still so young, and this situation had the potential to
seem mortally humiliating. Qui-Gon would be relieved to have
the erotic temptation removed, but the ordeal would not be
over. Not for either of them.
Toweling his hair dry as he came from the shower, Qui-Gon
stopped and gazed at his bed. Obi-Wan was curled in the middle
of it, the blankets pulled high so that the reddish spikes of
his hair was all that he could see. Standing very still, he
sent out an inquisitive tendril of Force and sensed that
Obi-Wan had just drifted to sleep. At that moment, his Padawan
had never seemed more vulnerable, and tenderness rose up in
Qui-Gon that he couldn't-- and didn't want to suppress. True
enough that Obi-Wan sought physical affection during this
episode with his fantasies, but his strong and independent
Padawan did not like to think of himself as vulnerable.
Qui-Gon pulled on his sleeping pants and turned down the
lights. He briefly considered taking Obi-Wan's bed, but
dismissed the idea. His Padawan was entirely too tired to
initiate a seduction, and Qui-Gon felt a yearning to just be
near Obi-Wan, to shield him as he slept, in a way that he would
not be permitted to do if Obi-Wan was awake. Gingerly, Qui-Gon
slipped under the blankets next to his apprentice and eased
down into his pillow.
Obi-Wan made a soft sound and turned over, seeming to seek
Qui-Gon's body by instinct. Silently, he cursed himself;
obviously Obi-Wan was not deeply asleep yet. A second later, a
ruffled head was resting on Qui-Gon's bare chest. His heart was
pounding so hard, he decided it was a wonder that the noise
didn't rouse Obi-Wan to full wakefulness.
A long sigh from Obi-Wan, and one of the boy's legs climbed
over Qui-Gon's thighs possessively. Qui-Gon held himself very
still... he wasn't sure, but it felt like Obi-Wan wore no
leggings or briefs. Very carefully, Qui-Gon grazed his
fingertips over Obi-Wan's hip... yes, his Padawan was as bare
as the day he was born.
And he was also more awake now. The soft mouth that latched
onto his nipple proved it. Electric tingles from the sensitive
flesh sent an urgent and traitorous message to his penis,
making him grow hard against his will.
"Shsh now, Obi-Wan, you need your sleep," Qui-Gon managed.
"Mm. In just another moment, Qui. I've missed this. I just
need to feel you close to me. Just for a little while," Obi-Wan
murmured and continued to nuzzle his chest sleepily.
Before Qui-Gon realized what Obi-Wan was doing, he had subtly
maneuvered on top of him, one leg on each side of Qui-Gon's
hips, groin to groin and belly to belly. The young man squirmed
for a moment, getting settled, and again laid his head on
Qui-Gon's chest.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard to rid himself of the lump in his
throat. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around Obi-Wan's
waist. What else could he do?
Obi-Wan moaned softly, and his hips rolled gently, pushing
their erections against each other. Qui-Gon fought his gasp,
but trembled nonetheless. Great Force, but the feeling of his
warm, naked Padawan undulating on top of him made his whole
body feel so alive.
"Oh, I need this," Obi-Wan whispered softly, then slid his
hands under Qui-Gon's back and clutched his shoulders for
leverage. He then began to rock steadily, seeking the friction
of the soft cloth of Qui-Gon's sleep pants.
The lithe body continued to move over him and enflame his own
need. Control-- he had to control himself... He couldn't just
make Obi-Wan stop, he had to allow the boy this much. But he
could not let himself give in.
Of their own volition, Qui-Gon's hands gently roved the smooth
skin of Obi-Wan's back, enjoying the glide of hard muscles
under soft skin. Obi-Wan's muted gasps then worked to wrench
Qui-Gon's control away from him. Those soft sounds were so
unconsciously erotic and they accompanied every thrust of
Obi-Wan's hips.
Qui-Gon battled down orgasm as he felt his sleep pants grow
damp from his and Obi-Wan's pre-ejaculate. And Obi-Wan's hot
hardness continued to rub against his own. The flimsy cloth
barrier between them was almost negligible.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan's thrusts became erratic, and the young man
buried his nose in Qui-Gon's neck. Obi-Wan was about to come...
His own self control nearly shattered, Qui-Gon grasped the warm
swell of Obi-Wan's ass and battered back his climax, his eyes
clenched shut and his body quaking all the way from the firm
set of his jaw to his feet braced on the footboard of the bed.
Warm wetness gushed over his groin as Obi-Wan softly cried out
his name, over and over.
Breathe-- he had to breathe. He took a gulping breath and
realized he was still clutching his apprentice intimately. He
loosened his grip and slid his hands up Obi-Wan's back,
settling one on the young man's shoulder blade and the other on
the back of his skull. Using no words but plenty of soft
sounds, he soothed his shaken Padawan in the way that he wished
he could be soothed. Oh, for a time there he had wanted that
intimacy as much as his Padawan had. It was a realization for
which he didn't believe he could be comforted.
After long moments, Obi-Wan settled upon him, boneless. "Qui?
You didn't--"
"It's all right, my young one. That was for you," he whispered
and kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head, already feeling his
erection blessedly subside. "Now it's time for you to get the
rest you need."
He didn't need to use more than a brushing of Force suggestion
to get Obi-Wan to nod off. The force of his Padawan's climax
had drained him of any remaining energy he had left.
Then Qui-Gon himself was left depleted, but awake with the
knowledge that they had crossed a line over which they could
never truly return.
Mm. It was warm, comfortable. The soft sheets felt nice
against his skin. And Qui-Gon's solid body made a fairly nice
pillow. His head lay on his Master's chest, and he still had
one leg draped over Qui-Gon's, his morning erection pressed
firmly against the older man's hip.
Obi-Wan's eyes flew open.
Oh no. No!
He scrambled backwards out of the bed, grabbing the top
blanket and dragging it with him to cover his nudity. It all
came slamming home to him; the gardens of Kalan and what really
happened versus what he wished had happened; the mission to
Philar and how Obi-Wan had truly spent that last night on the
planet.
Worst of all, it came blasting into his mind that he had
actually been living these last few days as if he and
Qui-Gon...
"Obi-Wan, all will be well, you must believe that," Qui-Gon's
voice finally pierced through his panic. His Master had
awakened, of course, when Obi-Wan had fled the bed. But he
couldn't look at him, he couldn't meet his eyes.
Obi-Wan was thoroughly mortified.
"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me go on like that?"
It didn't help that his voice came out in such a childish
croak; and his eyes remained on the blanket that he clutched
over his naked groin.
"The healers told me that you had to remember on your own--
that it would too traumatic to be told." Force, but Qui-Gon's
voice sounded so gentle. He wanted him to be firm, or loud,
something far from intimate; anger suddenly flared within him.
"Oh, and it's not traumatic for me to wake up and realize that
I've dry humped myself to orgasm all over you?" This time his
eyes did meet Qui-Gon's, but he could barely make the man out
in his vision, as unshed tears welled. I will NOT cry, he
ordered himself and willed the moisture to dissipate.
His vision did clear, and what he saw made his stomach ache.
Qui-Gon looked as if he had been slapped. He could not blame
Qui-Gon. What was the man supposed to do? The healers had
obviously told him to play along with his ridiculously
delusional Padawan. Was it Qui-Gon's fault that his apprentice
had all the self control of a rough trader at a Corellian
brothel?
He dropped his eyes again and fought to breathe normally. He
had to think-- or he had to stop thinking, stop remembering the
offensive things he'd done and said over the last few days.
"OBI-WAN!"
The sharp command for attention demanded that he face his
Master. Resigned, he lifted his head.
Qui-Gon slipped out of the bed and approached him, cautiously,
as if trying to not to frighten him, Obi-Wan realized.
"You have no reason for shame, do you understand? It was a
biological illness that caused this, and you are not at fault.
It is unfortunate, and understandably embarrassing that your
private thoughts were exposed in this way, but you have done
nothing wrong."
Was it his imagination, or was Qui-Gon about to touch his
face? No, couldn't be. Force, he must still be ill! When would
he finally be free of his damned longing?
"If I've done nothing wrong, then why do I wish this blanket,
or the Force, would swallow me whole?"
Qui-Gon did touch his face then, gentle fingers skimmed his
jaw before lifting his chin to meet his Master's eyes. The
man's expression was gentle in a way that nearly destroyed him.
"Because you have a heart, Obi-Wan, and right now it's feeling
a little bruised, yes?"
Obi-Wan nodded and swallowed hard.
"All will be well, Padawan. I do promise you. All will be
well."
Possibly, Obi-Wan thought. But it would not be easy to resume
his former relationship with Qui-Gon now that he knew that his
Padawan lusted for him, had dreamt of him. Oh Force, every time
Qui-Gon had left him yearning for him, Obi-Wan had fantasized
of how he wished it could really have been, and Obi-Wan had
revealed many of those dreams these last days.
"I-- I don't know what to say. Or where to go from here," he
finally whispered, afraid his voice would crack.
Qui-Gon grinned, a little sadly, Obi-Wan thought. "You don't
have to say anything just now. We can talk whenever you're
ready."
Qui-Gon cupped the back of his head in a brief caress then
stood and made his way to the 'fresher.
"Master... I don't... I don't want to have my morning meal in
the dining hall."
Qui-Gon looked at him from over his shoulder. "I understand.
We cannot hide away forever, Obi-Wan, but I think we can allow
ourselves a little time before we face the galaxy again."
We? Well, Obi-Wan decided, at least Qui-Gon planned to help
him and stand beside him as he faced his humiliation. It was a
small comfort. Very small indeed, considering the bulk of his
humiliation came from what he'd done and said to Qui-Gon
himself.
Qui-Gon now knew his deepest secrets and his most private
desires, and that could not be undone.
Qui-Gon couldn't remember a more unpleasant day. The natural
harmony that had always existed between he and his Padawan was
gone. Obi-Wan wouldn't look him in the eye, though he behaved
with perfect courtesy. Stiff courtesy, like a stranger. He had
built a defensive wall around himself, he walked apart. He no
longer smiled. The charming, gentle lover was gone as if he'd
never been.
//It was a dream after all// Qui-Gon thought as they sat
together on the shuttle back to the Temple. file://We both
lived in that small, delightful fantasy but instead of
happiness ever after all we have is misery. Will this wound
ever heal?// But that was the way it had to be, wasn't it?
Once back at the Temple, the Healers did a final check and
announced him well. Obi-Wan thanked them with his usual good
manners and, with nothing more than a brief comment, went off
to check his study roster for the day. Leaving a perturbed and
worried Master behind him.
The days passed slowly. Outwardly everything was fine. No-one
could have guessed, from watching them together, that anything
was wrong. Qui-Gon knew, though. This cool, detached young man
wasn't his Obi-Wan. That almost mystical "oneness" that they
had shared was gone. They were no longer a team, they were two
separate people, estranged by a discomfort that grew with each
passing hour.
There didn't seem to be a solution. Just when he thought there
was no path to take that did not lead to disaster, Obi-Wan came
to him, to talk.
Qui-Gon was sitting in their small common parlor staring out
at the night lights when the door opened and Obi-Wan entered.
He hesitated, went to turn to his own room, then stopped.
"Master?"
"Yes?"
"We need to talk."
Qui-Gon swung around in his armchair and nodded as he looked
across at Obi-Wan's pale face. "Yes, we do. I find, though,
that I am not quite sure what words to say." He smiled a little
sadly. "An unusual situation for a diplomatic negotiator."
Obi-Wan walked over and sat in the chair opposite him, a
determined gleam in his eyes. "I have been thinking - which is
something I haven't done for a few days. Why did you accept me
into your bed?"
Qui-Gon flushed, gripped his hands together inside his robe.
"I told you, it was necessary -"
"To ensure I suffer no problems with my healing. Yes, I know.
Yet there were alternatives. I could have been drugged and
allowed to recover in the medical center. It wouldn't have been
as natural, but you would have avoided unwanted intimacy.
Unless - it wasn't unwanted."
Qui-Gon froze as sensation fizzled through his nervous system
like living fire. "Obi-Wan - you know you are very special,
very dear to me. . . .you are my Padawan and . . ." Words
finally failed him and he staggered to a verbal choke.
For someone recovering from an illness, his Padawan was able
to move quite fast. One moment he was in the chair across the
room, the next on the floor in front of him and Qui-Gon was
looking down into a bright, intent pair of blue/green eyes.
"I knew it. You want me, don't you Master? Don't you?"
Qui-Gon raised a hand, tried to speak, to deny, but the words
wouldn't come. It was impossible to ignore demand for truth,
especially a truth so dear to his heart. He nodded slowly,
wishing he had words of wisdom to frame the moment with,
finding himself looking into those wonderful, changeable eyes
with some sort of mute desperation. He, who was so accustomed
to leading him, could not lead Obi-Wan in that moment. The
rules said no. They could not. He was a Master, bound to obey
the rules. How did he answer that when everything was telling
him to open his arms and accept him?
With that perfect sense of the Living Force that he was
blessed with, Obi-Wan made the choice for them both. He stepped
forward, lifted his arms and took hold of Qui-Gon. His strength
was enormous, but gentle, an inexorable persuasion. Before
Qui-Gon knew what was happening he was on his knees and Obi-Wan
was there with him. Oh, it felt so wonderful to be held by him,
to hold him. His familiar clean smell filled Qui-Gon's
nostrils, his aura was wrapped around him in a living sense of
warmth. Before he could even stop to rationalize it he turned
his head and rested his lips against Obi-Wan's cheek.
With just a small turn his face shifted and his mouth was on
Qui-Gon's. Just there, waiting, in that odd way that time
dilates sometimes in moments of stress or crisis. Pull back,
the thinking part instructed Qui-Gon, move away. It seemed he
was not the platonic sort, after all. That day had been so
revealing -
- because he opened his mouth, touched him with his tongue and
then they were truly kissing, pressed together chest to chest,
hands sliding up to move through his hair to the back of his
head. He was content just to be there, where every tradition
forbade him to be. In Obi-Wan's arms.
"Is this wrong?" Obi-Wan asked, his breath warm on Qui-Gon's
lips. "Is this truly so wrong, Master?"
"Yes. No. I don't know anymore." He'd turned off his brain,
apparently, the moment Obi-Wan had touched him. He continued to
touch him, his hands sliding up Qui-Gon's arms and pushing the
robe away from his shoulders and down over his arms. He
watched, fixed in place, as Obi-Wan undid his belt and let it
drop, then the long sash. When it was gone he pushed Qui-Gon's
tunics open, one by one and bent to kiss and taste the body
revealed to him. Qui-Gon touched his head tentatively, his own
head dropping back as lips and teeth fastened on his chest.
No-one had ever touched him so and small sparks of hot pleasure
flashed through him, charging his nerves and making his skin
prickle.
Obi-Wan laid his Master down gently on the floor, propped his
head and back with cushions and continued to explore him, inch
by sensitized inch. Qui-Gon was nearly incoherent, a mass of
inflamed nerve ends, reason long gone. He was touched . .
.slowly, almost reverently . . .the warm moisture of a mouth on
his belly. . . his hands clutched the cushions as hands moved
over his hips in a slow, sensual stroke.
He was wise in the ways of Qui-Gon's body, or his touch was
somehow a match for his Master's needs. The air was cool on his
skin as his leggings and briefs were pulled down, and when his
boots were removed he was naked. Cool skin prickled with sudden
heat - his touch surprised Qui-Gon often, where it went, how it
went. Lips on the soft skin of his underarm made him twitch
with pleasure.
Oh, it felt so right, and acknowledging the rightness of it
seemed to lift an enormous weight from Qui-Gon's worried mind.
He listened to the Force and let his Padawan love him; let the
sweet lips pay homage to his skin, and let Obi-Wan's feelings
for him warm him.
His Padawan's mouth skimmed along his jaw and then swooped
down to meet his own in a soft kiss. Obi-Wan sat up then,
kneeling between his Master's splayed thighs. His eyes scanned
him adoringly, and a smile full of affection lit his young
face.
There was such happiness and surety in Obi-Wan's expression.
This was not a boy lost in the delusion of a fantasy world;
this was a young man on the brink of a love so profound that he
would not allow anyone to convince him that it wasn't right--
not even Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan's smile subtly turned naughty, and the young man
hopped to his feet. Curious, Qui-Gon turned his head on the
pillows and watched his Padawan dash off to the 'fresher. He
returned quickly and stood again between Qui-Gon's spread legs.
Obi-Wan dropped a vial of massage oil onto the pile of his
Master's discarded robe and tunics. The predatory gleam in the
young man's eyes as he stripped off the remainder of his own
clothes made Qui-Gon shiver. That expression told Qui-Gon he
was about to be devoured. He was a most willing prey, he
realized as he felt himself grow powerfully aroused.
Seconds later, Obi-Wan was standing over him, unabashedly
naked with his thick erection pointing straight out from the
curly frame of his groin. His Padawan sank to his knees and
began to kneed Qui-Gon's thighs. Oh, yes, the boy's hands were
strong and confident.
Obi-Wan licked his lips in concentration as he drizzled some
of the oil over Qui-Gon's twitching sac. His Padawan's hunger
for him and the sensation of Obi-Wan's hand cradling his
scrotum so intimately made him moan helplessly. Obi-Wan's eyes
flicked to his with a brief but fond glance, and then he turned
his attention back to his Master's groin.
Obi-Wan's hand clasped his hardness in a slick grasp, and
Qui-Gon choked on a gasp. Reflexively, he reached for Obi-Wan
and cupped the Padawan's cheek. Obi-Wan smiled at him and
continued to stroke, slowly, firmly until Qui-Gon's cock was
slippery and glistening, and he was near mad with the pleasure
of it.
Obi-Wan's other hand petted his Master's balls, occasionally
fluttering his fingers over his sensitive perineum. Oh, but
where had the boy learned to tease like that? He could sense
that Obi-Wan craved a full joining and was determined to have
it; so why didn't his fingers move lower? Just a little lower,
and Obi-Wan could be easing his way into Qui-Gon's body.
Need driving him, Qui-Gon parted his legs even further in
invitation. Obi-Wan chuckled. "Patience, Master. All in good
time," he murmured. The irony of having his words turned on him
was not lost on Qui-Gon, despite the state of frenzy Obi-Wan
had created in him.
Obi-Wan abruptly stopped his steady stroking, and Qui-Gon's
body trembled with the loss of the blissful sensation. Obi-Wan
straddled his hips then, though, and was quickly kissing him
breathless, making him forget the protestations he was about to
voice.
Obi-Wan's tongue danced in his mouth, sweet and lively, and
Qui-Gon groaned his pleasure. His Padawan's hands clutched at
him, and he in turn finally began to roam Obi-Wan's body as
well. At last their lips parted and Obi-Wan sat up, still
straddling him, and their erections rubbed together as the
young Jedi undulated his hips.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and pressed his head into the pillow
as he fought to calm his body's response. Just as he was able
to breathe almost normally, he felt Obi-Wan shift over him, and
his Padawan again had his erection in his slick hand.
His eyes flew open wide as he felt the blunt head of his cock
press against a firm barrier. Obi-Wan's jaw was slack and his
head was thrown back. That firm resistance gave way, and he
felt himself sinking into unbelievably tight heat.
"Obi-Wan?" he could barely manage.
"I need this-- I need you!"
Obi-Wan sank down and Qui-Gon's cock was deeply buried. Both
Jedi cried out. They were joined in exactly the way that
Obi-Wan most desired. Qui-Gon knew this because he could feel
Obi-Wan's tremendous joy and his triumph. His Padawan's
feelings vibrated from him so strongly that Qui-Gon could
almost physically feel them, as strongly as he felt the boy's
inner muscles grip and massage him.
He moved one large hand to Obi-Wan's waist, to caress him, to
feel even more of him. His other hand skimmed over Obi-Wan's
face, feeling the flush of his cheeks and his kiss-swollen lips
with the pads of his fingertips. Obi-Wan's mouth closed over
one of those fingers, and as he began to rise from Qui-Gon's
rigid cock, he swirled his tongue over the thick finger
sensuously, his eyes closing in his apparent bliss.
An overwhelming compulsion swept over Qui-Gon has the agile
young body hovered over him, the tip of his cock snug within
the tight anus-- he wanted to thrust upward and sink into the
moist heat again, to push himself as far into Obi-Wan as he
could. His body quaked as he fought that compulsion.
Obi-Wan's eyes opened, and he released Qui-Gon's wet finger,
giving it a playful nip first.
"Do it," his Padawan then ordered, his voice huskier than
Qui-Gon could ever before recall; and both of them knew exactly
what Qui-Gon had been commanded to do.
The next step was his. Obi-Wan had declared his desires, and
claimed him physically. Now it was his turn to claim Obi-Wan.
Panting harshly from holding back his spiking need, Qui-Gon
grasped Obi-Wan's hips and met the fire in the young man's
eyes. With a long, low moan, he surged upwards, his cock
driving into his Padawan's body.
"OHH-- Yes!" Obi-Wan cried out again and his body trembled.
Qui-Gon kept his grip on the slim hips, and used it to help
them establish a rhythm. Obi-Wan lifted again, pulling off of
the turgid erection until only the tip remained inside of him,
then Qui-Gon pulled the Padawan down again, pressing deeply
inside.
The harder, deeper and faster he pressed inside of Obi-Wan,
the more attune to him he felt spiritually. Obi-Wan's whimpers
and groans spoke to him of the elation his Padawan felt at
having his feelings consummated.
"Obi-Wan... Obi-Wan..." he gasped, the only coherent words to
make it past his lips; but his feelings were projected clearly.
He loved Obi-Wan with his every breath, and he cherished him
with every cell in his body.
As Obi-Wan rose and fell again, impaling himself deeply,
Qui-Gon could see that his Padawan understood; he saw it in the
passion of Obi-Wan's eyes that he knew how very much he was
loved.
Gazes still locked, Qui-Gon continued to guide his Padawan up
and down on his rigid member with one hand, and slid the other
hand across his taut belly and down to his groin. His fingers
carded briefly through the sweat-damp curls at the base of
Obi-Wan's erection before he finally grasped it firmly.
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed and he braced his hands on Qui-Gon's
chest as he shook and moaned. "Come for me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon
urged with a tight voice, thrusting up and into the young body
with more and more vigor, stroking Obi-Wan's cock steadily.
He had to come soon; Qui-Gon himself was on a steep precipice,
and couldn't last much longer. "Oh... yes... Obi-Wan, come for
me..."
He tightened his grip and glided his thumb over the leaking
tip of Obi-Wan's cock and thrust even harder.
"Master!" Obi-Wan thudded down, hard, on Qui-Gon's heavy cock,
and he stilled. His mouth opened into trembling O, but for a
long second no sound came from him. One more deliberate stroke
of Obi-Wan's cock, and the boy erupted. He came with a series
of mewling cries, shudders rippling through him, and clutching
Qui-Gon's shoulders.
Obi-Wan collapsed against his chest, still panting, and
Qui-Gon's arms tightened around him protectively while he rode
out the last of the tremors. One last, forceful jolt burst
forth from him, and he bit down on the damp flesh of Obi-Wan's
neck, marking his lover in an act of possessive pleasure.
Seconds later, he continued to hold Obi-Wan to him, kissed his
moist temple and reveled in the aftershocks of their emotional
and physical union. Obi-Wan slipped down, sighing as Qui-Gon's
cock slid from his body and he wrapped himself around his lover
with lazy content.
"That's three times I've been bitten. The third time was the
best."
Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan's pleasure, his absolute certainty, and
it was truthfully difficult for him to think at that moment of
anything beyond how good it felt to love him, to be loved by
him.
/ /But I have to think, damn it, that is my responsibility of
care. I am his Master and I've given into this fantasy,
accepted it as my own. Wanted it as much, perhaps more. I am a
disgrace.. . ."
Warm fingers folded around his face, turned his head and he
saw Obi-Wan resting on one elbow, watching him with concern
growing in his eyes. "Qui-Gon . . .please don't start looking
for the bad parts of this. I wanted this as much as you - even
more. You did not abuse or seduce me. I am not a little child,
I know my own mind and body."
"And the years, my Obi-Wan? What of those? I am old enough. .
."
"Please don't say it! Do you know how much that matters to me
. .?" He moved his hand down across Qui-Gon's chest, burning a
path of delight as fingers played through hair, pressed
nipples, stroked ribs. ". . .it means you know so much more
than me, and can teach me, and show me . . .what it is to be
loved . . .by a Master Jedi . . ." He bent to kiss a scar on
Qui-Gon's side, a wound from some old battle, soft young lips
paying homage to his flesh.
He stroked the soft hair of his lover's head as he lay being
pleasured by him, letting the doubts slide away. In truth, he
would protect and teach as he always had, that much would not
change. The rightness of their being together sang through the
Force, without trace of any darkness.
It seemed he had been bitten as well - and if he was very
fortunate, it was an affliction from which he would never
recover.
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