Summary: Obi-Wan makes the decision to tell his Master he loves
him.
Feedback: Desperately craved. Any and all comments welcome.
Disclaimer: The boyz aren't mine, much as I wish they were.
They belong to George Lucas, who is a kind man for creating
such a wonderful universe for us all to play in.
Author's Note: Thanks very much to kimberlite for the
late-night beta. :)
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and steeled himself as his Master
walked into the room.
It had taken him the better part of his life to get up the
nerve to tell his Master how he felt about him. Now, at long
last, he was prepared to make his confession. He wasn't quite
sure what had prompted him to decide to share his feelings
today of all days; there was nothing special about it, no
momentous occasion that warranted the baring of souls between
them. And yet, Obi- Wan knew that it was time. His love for
Qui-Gon had grown over the years until it was inextricably
intertwined with who and what he was, until every breath he
took was a mirror of the feelings that he held for this man. It
didn't even really matter anymore if Qui-Gon felt the same; at
least Obi-Wan would be honest about the love that he had for
him.
Even so, the decision brought with it a fair amount of
trepidation.
Ever since Qui-Gon had first called him "Padawan", Obi-Wan had
felt the connection between them. It had begun as simple
affection, tinged with a soul-deep respect and admiration for
this man who was his Master. As Obi-Wan had grown, so had his
emotions, merging into the tender fantasies of adolescent
longing, then lust, and finally into the wild and
uncontrollable passion of a man who knew that what he yearned
for was forever beyond his reach. Because even if Qui-Gon had
been willing to give in to the passion that Obi-Wan felt for
him, Obi-Wan knew that he could never be content with only his
Master's body.
His eyes trailed after Qui-Gon as his Master shed his damp robe
and hung it by the door, then bent down to remove his mud-
spattered boots. Everything the man did was grace personified.
He must have just come in from meditating in the Temple
gardens; there weren't many places on Coruscant where one could
get that degree of sludge on one's shoes.
Obi-Wan watched with amused affection as Qui-Gon set the boots
aside, then turned and regarded his apprentice with a weary
smile. "Good evening, Padawan."
For a moment, Obi-Wan's throat constricted, and he couldn't
speak. Then habit took over. "Hello, Master. I've got dinner
prepared for you."
The look on Qui-Gon's face was full of quiet gratitude. He
moved into the kitchen of their small apartment and immediately
sank into his chair at the head of the table. He turned an
approving glance toward the kitchen as he caught the rich scent
of the food that was warming in the broiler.
Obi-Wan moved to serve him. It was his responsibility as a Jedi
Padawan to do so, but it was a duty he always enjoyed
performing. He took a great deal of satisfaction in being able
to care for his Master, and Qui-Gon knew it. Today especially,
Obi-Wan wanted to impress Qui-Gon with his dedication and his
willingness to serve.
He knew he was being abnormally quiet as they ate, and he could
tell that Qui-Gon was aware of it, too. His Master made no
comment on it, however, and their conversation was of trivial
matters. Qui-Gon was in the process of fighting the Council on
a matter that had been waffling in front of the Senate for
several weeks now, a minor altercation about the trade disputes
in the far-off region of Rhzia-al. Qui-Gon did not feel that a
Jedi presence was required, but Obi-Wan had the feeling that
the two of them were going to be sent to mediate. From the
defeated glint in his Master's eyes, he guessed that Qui-Gon
felt the same.
To get his Master's mind off his troubles, Obi-Wan sent him out
onto the balcony of their quarters while he cleaned up the
dishes. It was raining outside, as Coruscant's climate-
controlled atmosphere passed through its rainy season, but the
covering over their balcony provided adequate shelter for rain-
gazing. Qui-Gon went with an indulgent smile, but only after
extracting a promise from his Padawan that Obi-Wan would join
him when he was done.
Obi-Wan made short work of the soiled dishes, and then he went
to the wide, double-paned glass doors that led out onto the
terrace. He paused for a moment in the open doorway, taking in
the sight of his Master, who was standing at the very edge of
the balcony, large hands cupped over the brass railing, head
tilted back to gaze up at the dizzying traffic of lights in the
sky above him. The rain hissed softly as it slithered past,
pattering senselessly on the roof over their heads. The air was
cool and touched with the sharp scent of ozone.
Silently, Obi-Wan moved to take his place at his Master's side.
Qui-Gon spared him a glance and a brief smile, and then turned
back to his contemplation of the night sky.
"I have something to tell you, Master," Obi-Wan said at last.
"I figured that you might," Qui-Gon answered, and there was
kindness in his voice. "I've rarely seen you so distracted."
Wings fluttered at the periphery of Obi-Wan's vision, straining
to break free of the rain. A small avian, released somehow into
Coruscant's atmosphere, feathers snow-white against an august
sky. For some reason, the image stayed with him, even after the
animal was lost from sight.
Obi-Wan didn't say anything for a long moment. He had rehearsed
this speech so very carefully while he was waiting for Qui-Gon
to return home, and now all of his elegantly scripted lines
were nothing but fading memories in his mind. After the silence
threatened to become interminable, he finally came to the
conclusion that simplicity was best.
"I love you, Master," he said.
Qui-Gon said nothing for a very long time. Obi-Wan kept his
eyes firmly affixed on the silver fall of the rain before him,
letting his breath warm the air in front of his face. His
thoughts were curiously blank; whatever Qui-Gon had to say in
response to his admission, it would be enough.
Finally, Qui-Gon's chin lowered, just a fraction. There was a
tension in his shoulders that Obi-Wan didn't know quite how to
explain.
"You are very young," Qui-Gon said at last.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Do not misunderstand me, Master. I love you. I
am in love with you. And I have been for a very long time."
Silence again, broken only by the steady hissing of the rain.
Finally, Qui-Gon turned to look at him. His eyes were twilight-
dark in the evening light, full of depth and promise. Obi-Wan
stared, captivated, as long fingers lifted to brush across his
cheek. The soft touch left a trail of fire on his skin, as if
it had burned him.
Obi-Wan was intensely aware of the world around him at that
moment. The fall of the rain, the scent of it, wrapping him in
its cool embrace. The hard floor of the terrace under his feet.
The faint sounds of the city, so far beyond them that it might
have been a dream, or a recollection of another place, another
time. The sight of his Master's face, at the same time familiar
and strange, fixed in an expression of such intensity that it
made Obi-Wan ache to see it.
A moment of silence then, as if the world were holding its
breath in anticipation.
Then Qui-Gon bent to touch his mouth to Obi-Wan's. A kiss, a
promise, a sharing of souls, as the sky bled a silver halo of
rain-slashed light around them. Obi-Wan let his eyes fall
closed, a bubble of delighted laughter rising up in his throat,
and wondered when he had ever felt so free.
"I love you, too," Qui-Gon said softly, his breath wafting warm
across Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan shivered, opening his eyes again
to look into his Master's face.
Qui-Gon's eyes smiled at him, a subdued moment of tenderness
that cast all of Obi-Wan's remaining fears to rest. Whatever
the outcome of the relationship between them, at least Obi-Wan
knew that his feelings were shared.
Archive 