Secrets of the Heart
by Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Categories: angst, h/c, first time, romance
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/M, Q/O
Status: Complete
Archive: M_A, Jedi
Hurtaholics, Nesting Place
Warnings: As I began to write this, I could
almost hear readers walking away from it. Some people just don't like to
see Qui-Gon paired with anyone else. But while this starts as Qui-Gon and
someone else, it ENDS just the way we like it: With Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan
together. It works. It really does. Just READ the story already. Please?
I promise the ending is worth it...
Spoilers: A tiny bit for TPM's
characters...nothing much by way of plot spoilers for the movie
Summary:
How much time will be lost before two Jedi learn to appreciate what they have?
Feedback: Please, please, please!!!! I'm new to all this, and when I
don't hear from anyone, I get a complex...Please save my beta readers (and the
folks in #tpm) from having to listen to me whine... : ) Flames, should you feel
the need to send them, will be cheerfully forwarded to the ferret, who will hunt
down all flamers and bite their ankles. Thank you!
Disclaimers: We all
know who these characters belong to (Thank you, Mr. Lucas!), so there's no
question as to who's getting all the credit, money, attention, etc. for these
wonderful Jedi. (Hint: It's not me...) Disappointing as that is, I'd just like
to borrow them to tell this story...
Inspiration: This began as saraid's
bunny... I was dead stopped on another story and needed something else, when sa
offered me one of her ideas. Her original summary included, "A touch of angst,
hot sex, and Mace as a good guy." It was also supposed to be a threesome at one
point (M/Q/O), but after I took over their care and feeding, the plot bunnies
just wouldn't veer in that direction. Ah, well...I think I hit all of the other
stuff... : ) Thanks also to Mama, who's myriad suggestions inspired the fic's
final title. Whew.
Thank yous: To Esmerelda for coming through with an
absolutely awesome beta that saved me from myself-and saved readers as well...to
Keely who betaed the next version...to Holly, Keely, Mama, and sa for betas and
various other life-saving comments...to Mama for helping me to sort things out
on my crazy writing nights-and for convincing me that sometimes I really
do know what I'm talking about...to Keely for her expert opinions and
minute-to-minute irc consultations as I struggled through some of
the...uh...*harder parts...to the #tpm group for listening to me rant and for
insisting that the 'channel topic' I invented one day be worked into a story (
You guess which sentence!) ...to CJK who helped me enormously one day in #tpm,
out of the clear blue, and managed to get my story back on track.
[ ] is
Q/M telepathy
/ / is Q/O telepathy
"Qui-Gon? What's the matter?"
Still within the other man, sated and sweat-sheened from their
love-making, Mace Windu looked down into the blue eyes with concern.
Lashes and lids fluttered closed and then open, usually stoic features
clouded over with sorrow.
"It's nothing," Qui-Gon fabricated smoothly,
although the lines of his face said otherwise.
"It's something,"
Mace said firmly, not misled. "I know you-and this isn't you. You haven't
been 'with' me all evening. Your mind is elsewhere. Where?"
"Mace,
please. Don't worry about..."
"Qui-Gon!" Mace said in exasperation. "I
may be older than I used to be, but I'm not a foolish old man yet." At the hurt
look on the other's face, Mace allowed his tone to soften. "Why is it so
difficult for you to share your troubles with me?" he asked quietly.
Acceptance shone in Qui-Gon's eyes as he gave in to his friend's wishes
to help. "I'm worried about him, Mace. I'm well and truly worried."
"And
I am worried about you," Mace told him, fixing a semi-stern gaze
upon Qui-Gon until he had his attention. He'd known something wasn't right. The
passion had been in their loving this night, but not the fire.
Leaning
down, Mace planted a soft kiss on his lover's mouth, wanting only to comfort
him.
The swift answering movement, Qui-Gon's hot tongue begging entry
into his mouth, caressing his teeth and tongue, plunging deeper in search of
more, sent electrical jolts of pleasure through Mace's chest and belly,
straight down to his loins. He felt himself go immediately hard, but as much as
he would have liked to go another round with the man beneath him, he knew it
would solve nothing.
"Qui-Gon," he said quietly. "This isn't what you
need right now."
Gently, he pulled out of the other man, heart tearing
as he heard the hiss of breath between Qui-Gon's clenched teeth at the
unexpected withdrawal. Rolling onto his side, he took his lover with him, until
they were chest to chest, Qui-Gon's head resting on his shoulder. Softly, he
began to card a hand through the waterfall of silvering hair.
"Talk to
me, Qui-Gon. Tell me what's going on."
There was silence, as Qui-Gon
considered the question and collected his thoughts. He drew in a deep breath,
unable to stop the shiver of doubt that coursed through him.
Mace's grip
tightened, unwilling to allow the self-torture to continue. "Qui-Gon..."
"He lied to me."
The two of them spoke at nearly the same
moment, and had the other man's lips not been directly beside his ear, Mace
would have missed the sudden, strangled confession.
"Obi-Wan has never
lied to me before, Mace. Never," Qui-Gon continued, his voice heavy with
despair. "Mace, what have I done?"
"You have done nothing, Qui-Gon,"
Mace assured him. Nothing that cannot be undone, he added silently. He
stroked Qui-Gon's loose hair and bare back several moments more before preparing
to rise. "Let us take a hot shower, my friend, and then you can tell me what has
happened to upset you so."
Side by side on the freshly-made bed the two Jedi lay. Qui-Gon stared up
at the ceiling, arms tense at his sides. Mace mirrored his position, but snaked
one hand out, finding Qui-Gon's hand. Twining their fingers together, Mace
squeezed in reassurance.
The elder Master's aura was not what Mace would
have deemed 'calm', but neither was it as jumbled and chaotic as it had been.
The water and some time to think things over had helped enormously.
After several long minutes, Mace released Qui-Gon's hand, running his
thumb slowly over the knuckles and wrist before letting it fall gently to the
bed. Rolling onto his side, he leaned up on one elbow, steeling himself for what
he knew was likely to be a difficult conversation.
"Now," Mace said
softly. "Tell me."
There was a pause. "It is much the same as it has
been," Qui-Gon admitted reluctantly. "But a discovery I made yesterday...has
changed everything."
Mace was well aware that things had never been easy for this man and his
padawan. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were off-planet much of the time, not allowing
either one of them many opportunities to see or spend time with friends on
Coruscant. Not that Obi-Wan Kenobi had many friends. Even in the creche, he had
been more motivated to learn and train than to form friendships. And once he had
been taken as padawan by his Master, his drive to succeed had become even
stronger.
But such determination was admirable in a Jedi, and Qui-Gon
and the Council had decided to overlook the youngster's aversion to outside
activity and allow him to have what he most desired: time with his master to
watch and experience, grow and train in the ways of the Jedi. They had felt that
as the demands on Obi-Wan's time and skills steadily increased, so would his
natural tendencies to seek out the company and support of others.
They
had been wrong.
More and more concerned for the young man's lack of
close relationships as he reached the age of maturity and passed into his
twenties, Qui-Gon had tried to encourage Obi-Wan's socialization. He had often
cut the padawan's training sessions short, given him mid-days free and more
evenings off in hope that he would spend the time with padawans and knights his
own age.
At first, Obi-Wan had resisted almost fiercely, insisting that
he was of age and able to make his own choices regarding the ways in which he
spent his free time. But as it became obvious that his master would not back
down, he had acquiesced.
Over the last six months, Qui-Gon and his
padawan had been on Coruscant more than usual. It had given Qui-Gon some
much-wanted time with Mace, something both of them enjoyed, and had provided
Obi-Wan with the time to socialize.
A long, low sigh brought Mace back to the present.
"Qui-Gon?"
His question was greeted with soft breathing and silence.
"Qui-Gon? Talk to me...please."
"He...said he was spending time
with friends, Mace..." Qui-Gon began abruptly, rubbing a hand over his eyes as
if he were trying to erase the memories...or perhaps to clarify them.
"Parties, gatherings, clubs. He spoke of specific things he did at these
places...celebrating an agemate's birthday, swimming in the Y'Bri lagoon, even a
time when he claimed to have ingested a bit too much alcohol, calling to say he
would not be returning to our quarters until morning."
"Yes," Mace
agreed, nodding. "You've told me of these things. As well as the fact that he's
recently met someone to whom he's attracted. Someone he's been devoting a lot of
time to. And you know I share in your joy at knowing Obi-Wan is finally finding
a way to share of himself with others." Mace paused, brow furrowing in concern.
"Are you saying that some of what Obi-Wan has told you is not true?" The
direction of the conversation was beginning to disturb him.
Before Mace
could take his next breath, Qui-Gon had turned in his arms and was face to face
with him. His expression was a mixture of anguish and barely-checked anger.
"NONE of it is true!" he cried, eyes wide with the hurt of it.
Mace was momentarily stunned. If he'd been expecting Qui-Gon to say
anything, it hadn't been this. How could this possibly be so?
"If
Obi-Wan has not been doing all that he claimed," Mace said quietly, "is it
possible that he's been in just one place--with just one person?
Perhaps with the acquaintance he's mentioned?"
Mace was grasping at
straws, he knew, but the possibility was not an unreasonable one. Slowly, he
began to move his hands in calming circles over Qui-Gon's back, feeling tight
muscle beneath his fingers that did nothing to reassure him.
"Perhaps he
felt pressured to be spending time with many people in many places, and not just
with one significant other," Mace suggested. "Maybe he felt obligated in some
way to make the accounts of his whereabouts appropriate. "He wouldn't be the
first padawan to have covered up a special relationship by saying, 'I was out
with friends.' I believe even you and I used that excuse with our
masters, when we felt the need to have time alone and away from everyone else."
The corners of his mouth twitched at the memory.
"There is no
'significant other'!" Qui-Gon's explosive answer wiped the half-smile from
Mace's face. "There never was! There is only my padawan...and a collection of
untruths. And as his master, I am to blame."
Qui-Gon's pulse beat fast
and furious, and Mace feared his churning emotions would wake the entire
Council.
"Let us set blame aside for the moment," he told Qui-Gon, using
his voice as a salve upon the older man's soul. "I need you to help me
understand exactly what has taken place, so that I may help you deal with it."
He ran long fingers across Qui-Gon's forehead and down one cheek. "Will you do
that?"
There was a slight nod.
"Now, tell me...if Obi-Wan has
not been spending time with the other knights and padawans, what has he
been doing? And how did you come to find out?"
Qui-Gon looked at him
sadly. "I spoke with Yoda yesterday morning...was called into his chambers to
speak with him. And I have since subtlely questioned a number of the young men
and women Obi-Wan has claimed to have spent time with over the last six months.
None of them could corroborate his stories."
Blue eyes searched
Mace's dark face for answers that could not be found there. The glittering tear
that slid free as they fell closed in utter despair tore at Mace's heart.
"What did Yoda say?" he asked Qui-Gon. What had Obi-Wan done that was
questionable enough to pull the attention of the ancient Jedi Master?
"He asked me..." Qui-Gon faltered, as if the words were too difficult to
say. "He asked me why my padawan had been cast out...asked why I had not come to
the Council if our master/apprentice relationship was in jeopardy." The color
drained from his face as the memories returned.
"I was so surprised I
couldn't even answer him, Mace! There was nothing I could say! Yoda stood
there, calmly listing times and places when he'd observed Obi-Wan out and alone,
and all I could do was stare at him in disbelief. It was so entirely
contradictory to everything Obi-Wan had shared with me, that I suddenly didn't
know what to believe."
Mace felt his lover begin to tremble, Qui-Gon's
mind awash in grief and anger. Carefully he reached out to stroke Qui-Gon's
face.
"Easy," he said, gently stroking warmth into the cool skin. "Take
it easy. Everything is going to be fine." He sent calming waves of the Force
over and around the man in his arms, projecting a gentle web of reassurance.
"Now, what else did Yoda tell you about Obi-Wan?"
The Qui-Gon
took a breath. "Master Yoda gave unending accounts of Obi-Wan's time away from
our quarters...time I'd been led to believe he'd been spending with others. Yoda
spoke of late nights when he'd come upon Obi-Wan on his knees in the meditation
gardens...or wearing himself ragged in the practice gyms, running through katas
and other strenuous exercises.
"He spoke of times when others had
reported seeing Obi-Wan walking the Temple grounds all night long...or asleep on
the cold, hard floors of some of the temple's most deserted corridors." He drew
in a sharp breath. "Asleep on the floor, Mace! Like some animal thrown out of
its home...abandoned!" Horror and self-recrimination shaded the Jedi master's
voice.
Mace had to admit that he was more than a little troubled by this
knowledge. All of it was so unlike the Obi-Wan Kenobi he knew. Which meant it
was possible, the logical half of his mind reasoned before he could stop it,
that they didn't know Obi-Wan as well as they'd fancied they did.
The
thought, as it came and went, was painful to accept and more impossible to
believe. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a kind-hearted, hard-working young man who set a
shining example for the rest of the Padawans-for all the young people at the
Temple. Under the continued tutelage and gentle guidance of Qui-Gon Jinn, he was
going to be an exemplary Knight. There had to be more to all of this than
had been reported.
"Yoda knew more about the activities and whereabouts
of my Padawan than I knew myself, Mace!" Qui-Gon spoke again, voice hoarse with
emotion. "How could he have been more aware of Obi-Wan than I was? Obi-Wan is my
padawan. We share a bond--we share a life." He paused, breathing harshly
for several moments, chest heaving. "How could I not have known?" Again,
a string of questions with no clear answers.
Mace regarded the wounded
man for several long moments. "You're feeling guilty and betrayed because Yoda
knew things you didn't," he put back to Qui-Gon. "And you're upset about Obi-Wan
concealing his actions and fabricating stories." Mace turned the question into a
statement, but he took Qui-Gon's silence as affirmation of his words .
"Was Yoda really accusing you of something, Qui-Gon?" he asked quietly.
"Or was he merely attempting to bring a situation to your attention so that you
could remedy it before it turned into something far more serious?"
The
other man continued on as if he hadn't heard a word Mace had said.
"Great loneliness I sense in him. Great longing," Qui-Gon repeated the
aged Jedi Master's words, sorrow flowing from his every pore.
"Loneliness. Longing." He turned the words over on his tongue as if they
had the bitterest of tastes. "Was I so blind, Mace? Was I so caught up in my own
thoughts and pursuits of pleasure that I was completely unaware of the suffering
of my Padawan? Obi-Wan's best interests must always come before anything of
mine." He swallowed convulsively.
"Six months, Mace! For six
months he has been misleading me, for whatever reason. If my neglect of him has
damaged him in any way...if my attempts to give him more freedom and more time
away from me have harmed him more than helped him...I am no longer fit to be his
master. I am no longer fit to be anyone's master."
Mace had no
immediate, simple solutions to offer. The situation was one which would require
careful consideration and delicate maneuvering.
To the familiar movement
of large, soothing hands in his hair, Qui-Gon drifted into an uneasy
sleep-unlike his partner, who remained awake and staring up at the ceiling
through the rest of the night...and through the nights that followed.
Can you really be this blind, Qui-Gon? Mace asked over and over
into the silence. Is it possible that you honestly don't see what has been
happening-what IS happening-between yourself and Obi-Wan?
"Oh, my
friend," he whispered. "Why am I the only one who knows what each of you truly
needs?"
Mace had seen Qui-Gon through many things in their lives together as
Padawans, Knights, friends and lovers, but none had affected him so deeply as
this. For himself, it seemed, Qui-Gon could bear the unbearable and accept the
unacceptable, all with Jedi-like grace and serenity. But Qui-Gon's guilt over
his padawan's deception slowly ate away at him and Mace was greatly troubled
that a man as strong and formidable as Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn could be
consumed by his own despair so easily.
At Mace's suggestion, Qui-Gon allowed the deception to remain between
himself and Obi-Wan. He neither loosened nor tightened the reins of their
master/apprentice relationship, nor did he confront Obi-Wan with the information
given to him by Yoda. As much as he hated to admit it, Qui-Gon knew his friend
was right. He needed time to meditate and to consider the best way to handle the
situation his padawan had unknowingly set before him. It would do no good to
make accusations against the younger man without also having a plausible
consequence and solution at hand.
"One week," Qui-Gon negotiated with
Mace. "I will wait and I will meditate, but I will not allow this to go on for
longer than a week. I cannot bear it." He stopped, his face suddenly a mask of
pain. "And neither can Obi-Wan."
Although he was loathe to do it, Qui-Gon allowed the charade to
continue. But while Mace had said to leave Obi-Wan to his own devices, he had
said nothing about leaving him unobserved. Thus began Qui-Gon's evening ritual.
After night meal and meditation, he went silently about the Temple in search of
his padawan.
The first evening Qui-Gon trailed Obi-Wan, he found him in
the cafeteria, alone and apparently studying. Bent over the datapad, his long
braid brushing the side of his cheek, the young man looked many times his true
age. Was the burden he bore so great? Sighing sadly, Qui-Gon left him, knowing
it would likely be hours before his young one made his way back to their shared
quarters.
The second night Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan endlessly walking the
Temple grounds, as if he could not find a use for the excess energies that
coursed through his body. Qui-Gon could feel the energy, wondered at its cause,
but would not risk penetrating his padawan's shields in the name of curiosity.
Disguising his presence and tracking Obi-Wan was easier than Qui-Gon had
imagined. The Force provided a powerful cloak, but weighed against the strength
of their training bond Obi-Wan should have at least been aware of
something. And yet he seemed oblivious. The thought bothered Qui-Gon
deeply. Obi-Wan, who could sense his Master's presence even in his sleep, was
getting careless...opening himself to grave danger in the wrong situation.
And it was not just during the nighttime that Obi-Wan was distracted and
vulnerable. Now that he knew what to look for, Qui-Gon could see it in his
Padawan's daily training exercises. A minute mental error here, a quick cover-up
for a small mis-step there.
As thorough as Obi-Wan usually was about his
performance, Qui-Gon wondered how he had missed all of the small imperfections
he was now witnessing. Had they been there all along, or was it just now that
his apprentice was wearing down, his exhaustion at continuing the ruse chipping
away at his reserves?
Obi-Wan was clearly distracted. Mere months ago,
his meditations and training katas had been nothing short of perfection. Now
they were uneasy...flawed. Despite Obi-Wan's valiant efforts, his quiet demeanor
and the dark circles under his eyes told Qui-Gon exactly what he needed to know.
Not for the first time, Qui-Gon violently cursed his extreme
short-sightedness-no, blindness-in the matter.
Mace couldn't stop the melancholy feeling that swept through him each
time he lay with Qui-Gon. It should not have been him in bed with the Jedi
master. It should have been someone younger, more vibrant than he. It should
have been Obi-Wan.
It was as if Qui-Gon could feel the need that gnawed
at him, Mace thought, but didn't know where the feelings originated or what to
do with them. When they did speak of Obi-Wan, things always came back to the
padawan's 'betrayal', and Mace knew Qui-Gon was hurting fiercely. Something had
to be done-and soon.
On the third evening it was Mace, not Qui-Gon, who found Obi-Wan first.
"Padawan Kenobi? Are you well?"
Mace knew he'd startled the
young man, knew Obi-Wan had not heard or sensed his approach.
Obi-Wan's
body tensed, his head coming up with a jerk. From where he sat on the practice
room floor, apparently nursing a number of wounds, he looked at Mace with wide
eyes.
"Master Windu! I..." Obi-Wan seemed at a loss; whether he was
considering if he should tell the truth or just wholly embarrassed at being
'caught', Mace could not tell.
Mace stepped closer to the figure on the
floor.
"Those are 'saber burns, Padawan," he said, stating the obvious.
"Quite severe-and quite painful, I daresay. Have you been sparring with
someone?" Mace looked around, as if searching for a possible partner, then
turned back to the padawan.
"Um...no, Master. I'm sorry. I was only...I
was...practicing one of my katas..." Obi-Wan's words tumbled out as he visibly
wilted under the older man's scrutiny. "Alone."
Mace's voice was stern
as his eyes swept over burnt hands, singed hair, charred and ripped tunic and
leggings. "You were attempting something this dangerous alone, Padawan?"
The deepness and the sheer number of burns upon the apprentice's arms
and legs left Mace with little need to act surprised. He truly was concerned for
the boy's state of mind.
"It was an advanced kata, Master," Obi-Wan
offered wanly, his face pale. "I wanted to learn it...to perfect it...as a
g...gift to my master." He stopped, as if saying more would only compound his
troubles.
Mace could have wept, so great was the pain and intensity in
that voice. Wept for an apprentice who only wanted to please his master. Wept
for an apprentice who would give of himself this way, physically and mentally,
to have something precious to share with his master.
Something niggled
at his brain then, some stray thought, an idea he couldn't quite grasp. It was
as if... as if... ...as if Obi-Wan could feel the need that gnawed at him,
but didn't know where the feelings originated or what to do with them... His
thoughts for Qui-Gon from the night before came back to him in a rush that
nearly took his breath away. Their love for each other was so painfully
obvious...to everyone but themselves. Obi-Wan was his master's Padawan,
that much was certain.
[Mace?]
Qui-Gon's voice was suddenly in
Mace's mind, and he had to school his features to be sure Obi-Wan would not
know. The link between them wasn't much anymore, and only worked at short
distances or when they were in close physical...contact.
[Mace?] The
voice came again. [Is there a problem? I've been looking for Obi-Wan and I
thought I felt...]
Mace knew that Qui-Gon was mere meters from the
practice room door. It would do Obi-Wan no good to be found this way by two
masters-especially if one were his own.
He could feel Qui-Gon quiet his
thoughts, focusing on his apprentice. To save him the trouble, Mace allowed him
to see Obi-Wan as he was seeing him.
[Mace! For Force sake, what are you
playing at? Obi-Wan has been hurt?!] Qui-Gon's mind voice was a mix of outrage
and concern. [I will not be...]
[Qui-Gon, stop!] Mace thought back to
him before the man could take another step. [This is neither the time nor the
place for a confrontation. Remain outside, if you wish, but please let me handle
this. Please.]
Mace felt a prickle of uncertainty from Qui-Gon. Allowing
himself to smile through the link, Mace diffused the situation with humor.
[I'm about to do my best 'You've Disappointed a Jedi Master and Council
Member' speech, old friend...and it's written as a monologue. You and I will
talk later, you have my word.
Mace could feel Qui-Gon relax, although he
was still concerned for his padawan.
[I'm his master, Mace.] Qui-Gon
insisted. [And I've let him down too often these past months. I must talk
to him...] He took two steps closer to the door.
[Qui-Gon,] Mace said,
[I love you. You know that. And you know that I would never do anything to
deliberately hurt you. Please trust me enough to allow me to confront your
padawan. I have a somewhat different...perspective...and I think that's what
Obi-Wan needs right now. He needs to be caught, but not by someone who will
offer him comfort and sympathy.]
He could feel that Qui-Gon was torn
between taking control or turning it over.
[The comfort will come
later,] Mace told him. [And you will be the one who is there for him
then.]
Qui-Gon remained where he was.
[Thank you,] Mace thought
back. [You have my assurance that Obi-Wan has not been seriously injured. He's
just managed to get in a bit over his head...not unlike his master was prone to
do at this age...]
Mace smiled inwardly at Qui-Gon's indignant
hmmph. Bracing himself, Mace pulled his shields up tightly, feeling
Qui-Gon unconsciously do the same, before turning his full attention once again
to Obi-Wan.
"Padawan," Mace began, knowing Qui-Gon was close enough to
hear them without the use of either bond. "I do not believe your master would be
pleased to see what has taken place here tonight."
Obi-Wan physically
flinched.
"And while it may be several years before your knighting,
this," Mace called Obi-Wan's tossed-aside 'saber and crumpled cloak to his hand
and stepped forward to present them neatly to their owner, "is not likely the
way you will want yourself to be seen, by anyone, before-or after-that day."
If it were possible, Obi-Wan went a shade paler.
Mace's voice
grew quiet, almost gentle. "But there are times when we all lose sight of our
own capabilities and limits...from padawans all the way up to Jedi masters..."
Obi-Wan kept his face carefully neutral, but Mace could feel his
surprise at not being reported or taken to task for his behavior.
"Clean
yourself up, Padawan, and seek out a healer for any injuries you are not able to
heal on your own. Then see to it that you head directly back to your quarters to
rest." He paused. "I will not make mention of this to your master, but I believe
some hard meditation is in order. And I trust that the likes of this will
not happen again."
It was not really a lie, Mace told himself. He
would not need to mention it to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon already knew. Sensing
that the conversation was nearing an end, Mace felt Qui-Gon take his leave, mind
uneasy, spirit troubled.
Obi-Wan scrambled up, wincing in pain, creating
the semblance of a bow in Mace's direction.
"Yes, Master. And...thank
you, Master," he said gratefully. And with that he beat a hasty retreat.
An hour later, when Obi-Wan returned to quarters, healed as well as he
was able under his own waning Force power, he found that his master was,
gratefully, already in bed. Obi-Wan barely made it to his own before collapsing.
The day after Obi-Wan's encounter with Mace, Qui-Gon chose to keep his
padawan with him. With thoughts of the night before still swirling in his mind,
he found that he was not yet ready to face another of Obi-Wan's evening
escapades. Devising a story of extra time needed for meditation and practice on
the Rhythms of Water kata for an upcoming competition, Qui-Gon easily kept his
padawan busy until it was time for bed.
Qui-Gon could feel that Obi-Wan
was cautious, more than likely expecting his master to have heard about the
evening before. But underlying that, Qui-Gon also felt that Obi-Wan was more
content...relieved...to be spending this extended time with his master, no
matter what the reason for it. The thought of his padawan that desperate for his
attentions made Qui-Gon's stomach clench.
The fifth evening was the most difficult. After searching more than an
hour, both on foot and with the Force, the Master found his apprentice holed up
in a back corridor of a long-unused section of the Temple. The draft blowing
through was enough to chill Qui-Gon, even through his thick night cloak, and he
was certain his padawan must have been numb with the cold. But the young man
sleeping propped against the cold cement wall, normally so sensitive to
temperature changes, showed no signs of noticing.
It was on that night
that Qui-Gon nearly gave in to his aching heart's wishes, wanting nothing more
than to gather the young man into his arms and carry him back to their rooms.
And had Obi-Wan still been four or five years of age, Qui-Gon knew he would have
done just that, regardless of how badly Obi-Wan had behaved or what he had done.
But Obi-Wan was no longer a child and Qui-Gon, who found himself reminded more
and more of his own increasing years, felt as if he had aged a decade in the
past several days.
"Mace...Mace...now..."
Face crimson with passion, his throbbing
erection stimulated by his own hand, Qui-Gon's desperate pleas were anything but
those of an old man. As a strangled moan escaped his throat, the Jedi master's
back arched involuntarily, muscular legs spreading impossibly wider in open
invitation.
"Please, Mace! NOW, please! More! Harder! I need you
now..."
Qui-Gon's breathless shouts for release filled the room,
echoing off the bare walls, but were all but ignored as the younger master
thrust inside him, again and again, seemingly tireless in his quest for
pleasure.
"Damn you!" Qui-Gon cursed, with the little breath he had
left. "Have pity on an elder! End my suffering!"
"Elder! Elder?"
It was difficult to tell whether Mace was reprimanding him or mocking him, but
neither got Qui-Gon what he wished.
As suddenly as he'd begun, Mace
stopped his thrusts, his breath coming to him in harsh gasps. In one smooth
movement, he lowered Qui-Gon's legs from his shoulders and allowed himself to
sink fully into the taut body beneath him.
The sudden change in position
elicited a deep groan from Qui-Gon, both at the pleasure of being so completely
filled and at the pain of incompletion. "What do you want from me?" he growled
at the man above him, unable to keep his voice from betraying his need.
Mace didn't answer. Instead, he began a quest, searching out Qui-Gon's
most sensitive spots. If Qui-Gon would not take charge, he would make him
take charge. Obi-Wan's future depended on it...whether Qui-Gon could see that
right now or not.
Resting his head against Qui-Gon's damp chest, Mace
took one rosy nipple into his hot mouth, laving it tenderly. He did the same
with the other nipple, worrying it with sharp teeth until the fine line of
pleasure began to blur into pain. Swiftly, he moved up to capture Qui-Gon's
mouth with his own. Any protests the older Jedi made were literally swallowed up
as he bit and sucked lightly at the other's lips and tongue.
When he
released the mouth, needing to breathe, he was treated to several choice words
that somehow seemed out of place, coming from such beautiful lips. Mace took in
Qui-Gon's strong heaving shoulders, face damp with sweat, soft, flowing hair,
fanned out around his face, shining against blue silk sheets that matched his
eyes. Force! The man looked like a living angel.
"Tell. me.
what. you. want." The words, ground out like sand on glass, broke Mace from his
reverie.
"I want you to ride me," Mace told him simply. The look of
surprised lust on the Qui-Gon's face was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping
for.
"I want you to look deep into my eyes, Qui-Gon Jinn," Mace told
him, eyelids lowered in what could have been either seduction or shyness. "And I
want you to take me deep inside your body. Can you do that?"
The words
attacked Qui-Gon's fevered brain more powerfully than any drug. With only a
moment's pause, Mace Windu was taken into strong arms and flipped onto his back
as if he were nothing more than a child's plaything.
Qui-Gon began to
move then, sliding slickly up and down the dark, weeping cock. Spurred by the
succulent feast before him, Qui-Gon flawlessly resumed his partner's earlier
cadence, gasping as large hands reached up to capture his already
far-too-stimulated hardness, pumping it in wild counter-rhythm.
Their
climax, when it finally came, was mind-shattering. Both men shouted their
release simultaneously, convulsing helplessly with the aftershocks, Qui-Gon
collapsing into Mace's arms.
"What is with you tonight?" Qui-Gon demanded, as soon as coherent
thought returned to him. Confusion clouded his features. "Not that this...change
wasn't...interesting, mind you."
A shiver went through Qui-Gon despite
the fact that his skin was still overly warm.
"Riding you like that was
very hot, Mace. But..." he paused, considering his words. "I'm not sure I
understand what just happened here. This isn't like you-like us-at all. You've
been going about this like a man who..."
Realization, when it hit, hit
hard, sending Qui-Gon into startled silence.
"Qui-Gon, I..." Mace began.
The air seemed to crackle with Force energy, as Qui-Gon reached out with
his mind, struggling to interpret what he was feeling from the man beside him.
"You're leaving me...?" It was, at first, a frantic question.
Then, more certain of what he had sensed, Qui-Gon stated, "You're leaving me."
The words were a mixture of shock and disbelief and the next question was out of
his mouth before he could prevent it. "For whom?"
Mace groaned inwardly.
They hadn't been seriously in love for many years now. It had been only casual
sex-love between two good friends-for more years than he could remember. Why,
then, did the man have to choose this moment to show that he still relied on the
relationship between them?
"No, Qui-Gon," Mace began again. "I..."
"You are," Qui-Gon said with certainty. "I felt it from you near the
end...felt you were approaching this like someone who knows it's going to be his
last time." His deep voice deepened even further, inflections of another
betrayal lacing the edges. "You know we're not going to do this again..."
Mace had only meant to bring a few things to the dense Jedi's
attention...not to hurt him this way.
"I'm not leaving you, Qui-Gon," he
said carefully, taking the elder Jedi's face between his hands and not allowing
the other man to pull away. "*You are leaving me."
Qui-Gon's head
did snap up then, jerking free of the gentle grasp. "I'm what?"
Dark brown eyes bore into electric blue ones.
"Think about it,
Qui-Gon. You and I had something special once. A strong bond. A lover's bond.
But there is someone else in your life, now...someone to whom that bond belongs.
And I would be derelict in my friendship with you if I stood by and allowed that
other bond to crumble...merely because you do not recognize it for what
it is."
"I..."
"The tie is so strong, even I can sense
it," Mace told Qui-Gon. "You must be able to feel it. Have you closed
yourself off to the possibility for so long that you are no longer aware of it?"
"Obi-Wan..." The name was like a prayer on the Jedi's lips.
"Yes, Qui-Gon." Who else? he thought in exasperation. "Can't you
see? He's communicating his love for you the only way he knows how: by
not reaching out to others, he's reaching out to you. And you want
so badly to love him...but your body uses me in his stead. Night after night you
give your love to me...when it's Obi-Wan who's so badly in need of it. You
waited through his childhood and through his early adulthood. Tell him-show
him!-how you feel, now, before any more time slips away."
The
desperation on Qui-Gon's face made Mace's chest tighten. His eyes burned with
unshed tears at the other man's vulnerability.
"You need to share your
feelings with him, Qui-Gon, before it's too late. I cannot help you go to him,
but I will help you in any other way I can.
Sitting alone on a cold, stone bench at the edge of the meditation
gardens, Obi-Wan shivered in the cool evening air. He'd told Qui-Gon he was
going to be having a late dinner with Padawan Ta-Geln and Knight Reyla-Nil, and
it was far too early for him to return to their quarters. Of course, with as
much time as his master had been spending with Master Windu lately, Obi-Wan
didn't think there was much chance of Qui-Gon actually being in their
quarters at this time of night. Still...
Suppressing a sudden pang of
guilt at the thought of deceiving his master yet again, Obi-Wan took a
reinforcing breath. Shedding his robe, he spread it carefully over the dampening
grass. Now the breeze went, unimpeded, through his light shirt, chilling his
skin, but he knelt down in meditative pose, and dutifully attempted to block the
outside world from his thoughts.
Force! He was in this act of his
so deeply, that it was hard to tell where the 'illusion' Obi-Wan ended and the
'real' Obi-Wan began. He hadn't intended for it to go this far. He'd really
thought that after a week or two Qui-Gon would give up the idea of 'socializing'
his padawan and simply allow them to resume their previous...relationship.
Obi-Wan had been perfectly content to train with his master...to just
be with his master. He'd never felt comfortable around those his own age,
feeling awkward, out of place; he'd been too far ahead of them in his physical
and mental skills and felt too far behind them in his communication and social
skills.
With Qui-Gon he could do what he most wanted to do and be what
he most wanted to be: a Padawan training to become a Jedi Knight, under the
careful instruction and watchful eye of the Temple's most revered Jedi Master,
Qui-Gon Jinn. It had never seemed like too much to ask: to be allowed to be with
the man who had been chosen for him on his path to becoming a Jedi. But things
had gotten so complicated...
A sudden wave of distress hit Obi-Wan, and
he opened his eyes, confused. Focussing on the emotion, he felt soul-searing
pain. Someone was hurting his master! Not a physical hurt, but a mental
one-which, to a Jedi, was far worse. Standing up in a daze, Obi-Wan blindly
plucked up his cloak from the ground and fled inside the Temple.
Once he was well-ensconced within the Temple corridors, Obi-Wan made
himself stop. Head back, eyes closed, he listened...listened with his mind and
his heart, listened through the training bond he had with his master.
Guilt. Shame. Sadness. Longing. He 'heard' all of the emotions clearly
in his master's mind. And as a loyal Padawan, drawn to the suffering of his
Master, he once again took off running, following the ebbs and tides of his
master's life-force...straight to Master Windu's cabin door.
The
signatures he sensed inside the room before him were different than those he'd
sensed from a distance. Qui-Gon's aura had the distinct impression of something
very akin to an uneasy peace and Master Windu was projecting nothing but
comfort. Whatever Obi-Wan had felt from his master earlier was gone...perhaps
soothed from him by the man whose bed he shared.
Having been earlier
determined to rush in and save his master from whatever-or whomever-threatened,
Obi-Wan now gave up with a resigned sigh and a shrug of his shoulders. Moving
slowly back down the quiet hallway he found himself alone with his own thoughts
once again.
Obi-Wan's presence outside Master Windu's door did not escape the notice
of either Mace or Qui-Gon. The waves of bitter despair which saturated his Force
signature, hung in the air long after his departure.
"Something must be
done," Mace said, eyes still on the door, thoughts on the young man who was no
longer behind it.
"Tonight," Qui-Gon agreed, already up and heading for
the shower. "It must be tonight. The time has come for truth between us."
"Obi-Wan."
The weather was not out of season but not even the
hood of Qui-Gon's cloak could keep the cool breeze from swirling through his
loose, shower-damp hair. Shivering, he tucked his hands deeper inside the folds
of his cloak.
Obi-Wan had not gone far after leaving the Temple, but
Qui-Gon had nearly missed spotting him, curled as he was beneath the low-hanging
branches of the weeping loria tree. He called Obi-Wan's name again.
/I'm
sorry, Master. I'm sorry./
Obi-Wan's arms and legs moved restlessly,
rumpling the cloak beneath him. Fingers clenched and unclenched, eyelids
flickered. Qui-Gon sighed. His padawan was dreaming.
Qui-Gon knelt in
the grass beside his apprentice and put a hand on one slim shoulder.
"Obi-Wan."
/Please don't leave me, Master. I'll try harder.
Please...no...no...no...no...no.../
Disturbed by the dream's
continuation, Qui-Gon spoke more forcefully.
"Obi-Wan, wake up."
/No, please don't. I.../ Obi-Wan slipped from his dream.
"Please, Mast..." And into wakefulness. "M-Master?"
Obi-Wan was
fully awake now. Awake, sitting up, and looking at his Master-no longer a dream,
but reality-with wide, terror-filled eyes.
"All is well, Obi-Wan,"
Qui-Gon told him gently. "You were having a dream."
Obi-Wan looked
almost sick at the thought of his master witnessing that particular dream.
"I was meditating, Master," he said in explanation. "But I was so
tired...and the gardens are always so peaceful this time of night..." He stopped
suddenly, as if he had given away too much.
Qui-Gon let the feelings and
tones flow around and through him, but did not respond. He had only one goal.
Brushing his fingers across his padawan's forehead in a Force touch meant to
steady him and calm his fears, Qui-Gon allowed his hand to drop slowly and got
to his feet. Concentrating on Obi-Wan until the amber eyes met his own, Qui-Gon
offered his apprentice a hand up.
"We have much to discuss, Padawan," he
told the younger man.
After a moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan grasped
Qui-Gon's hand, allowing himself to be pulled from the grass in the strong, firm
grip, and to be led silently back to their shared quarters.
They sat in the main room, Qui-Gon studying Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan studying
the carpet.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon finally managed to begin. "I believe I
have handled things badly..."
Obi-Wan's head came up as he met his
master's eyes in shame-faced surprise.
"No, master," he said with
earnest conviction. "It is I who have behaved badly..." The color which had been
climbing slowly up Obi-Wan's neck rose to color his cheeks and ears.
"I
am the only one who is to blame here," Qui-Gon told his apprentice firmly. "I am
your master, and if there are barriers that lie between us then I am
responsible. I should have known what was going on...long before it got this far
out of hand."
"Will you..." There was fear in the padawan's voice. "Will
you ask for another apprentice?"
"Oh, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with
sadness at the other's sudden insecurity. "Never. You are my apprentice,
the light of my life." He studied the young man before him for a long time.
"Would you ask for another master?"
"No!" The answer was quick
and vehement. "Never! All I want is... All I've ever wanted is..." Obi-Wan's
voice wavered and dropped off.
"What, Obi-Wan? What have you wanted?"
Qui-Gon went equally mute, awaiting his padawan's answer.
"You."
There was so much love and want and need in that one word that it left
Qui-Gon weak in the knees.
"Obi-Wan?" he managed to murmur.
"All
I have ever wanted is you," Obi-Wan said again, this time with a bit more
strength . "As a master...as a companion...and as...more." Obi-Wan's voice
quivered, ashamed of the feelings aroused by the single thought.
"Oh,
Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
In one
movement Qui-Gon was on his feet and in the next he was seated beside Obi-Wan on
the sofa, his padawan's face between his hands. As Qui-Gon looked into the
ever-changing eyes, Obi-Wan suddenly dissolved the shields which kept his master
from his mind.
In a flash of pictures and thoughts, Qui-Gon saw
everything: A young Obi-Wan craving the attention of someone, anyone, who
would love him and nurture his heart's wish of becoming a Jedi. A teenaged
Obi-Wan, tirelessly devoted to his training and to his master, whom he revered
as almost a deity and looked to for praise and guidance. An almost-twenty
Obi-Wan, trying to be like the other padawans and knights, and failing
miserably, in his own mind. An Obi-Wan trying to balance his drive to succeed
with his master's wishes and his realization that he couldn't be all things, do
all things, and please all of those around him. An early-twenties Obi-Wan,
confused about what to do and what to believe...feeling unable to speak to his
master about it and unable to act upon newly awakened feelings. Feelings for his
master...
Qui-Gon stopped the ideas and emotions mentally rushing at him
by pulling his padawan into his arms and covering the sweet mouth in a long,
expressive kiss. A bit surprised at first, Obi-Wan was quickly swept into the
kiss, opening his mouth wider, responding to the most intimate touch he had ever
shared with his master.
/What else would you like to share, Obi-Wan?/
his master's voice flowed like molten lava into his mind.
/Everything,/
Obi-Wan answered back, growing more lightheaded and breathless by the moment.
/Everything I am is yours/ he told Qui-Gon. /And everything I will become.
Please, instruct me in the Jedi ways of loving as you have always instructed me
in the ways of the Jedi. I want to learn. From you./
Qui-Gon's muscles
turned to jelly as he was consumed by the love he felt from his padawan.
/Jedi love runs deep,/ he told Obi-Wan. /And you have always had that
ability. Even as a child you loved unconditionally. And Jedi love is eternal.
The bonds a Jedi creates last forever. Although the nature of the bonds may
shift and change over time, they will remain as part of the Jedi's soul for all
of eternity./
There was hesitation from Obi-Wan. /So Master Windu.../
/...and I will always have a link to each other, yes,/ he answered his
padawan's unasked question. /But, then, a Jedi has many such links, forged in a
lifetime, and the links and bonds only serve to add to an individual's strength
and character./
/Will you.../ Obi-Wan hesitated, not wishing to appear
too bold.
/Will I what, Padawan?/ Qui-Gon looked at his padawan in
concern, fearing Obi-Wan had been made uncomfortable by talk of his master's
past.
/Will you...kiss me again?/
It was said with a sweet
shyness so sensual it made Qui-Gon's mind disintegrate. His mouth was possessing
his padawan's even before he became aware that he had moved to do so. Obi-Wan
moaned his contentment.
/Obi-Wan?/
/Yes, Master?/
/If
you wish this to stop, you have only to say so.../
He immediately had
Obi-Wan's full-indignant-attention.
/And if I wish it to continue...or
to go further, Master...?/
/Then you only have to say so.../
/I wish it...to go further, Master...Much further.../
The
room was suddenly far too hot and in a shower of boots, tunics, leggings, and
belts both master and apprentice were quickly unclothed. And though he never
would have believed yesterday that it could happen, naked in his master's arms
felt like the most natural place in the galaxy to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon had
not felt such joy fill his padawan in a very long time. It infused the young
man, made his very aura dance. How could he have missed something this
electrical...this alive?
/Shall we move to the bedroom, my
Obi-Wan?/ Qui-Gon questioned, feeling his padawan's growing hardness pressing
against his thigh and knowing things would soon be too far gone for transference
to another room.
"No," Obi-Wan said aloud. "I want you...need
you...here. Now." Reaching down, he grasped the sleep-couch's underpanel and
with a click the back collapsed until it lay even with the rest of the
couch, providing an area twice as large as before.
"Very nice, Padawan,"
Qui-Gon said with a smile. "Now, what shall we do with all this extra space?"
Obi-Wan sent his master a clear and extremely detailed picture of
exactly what he wanted to do.
/Obi-Wan!/ Qui-Gon's mind exclaimed almost
before he could think about it. /We can't.../
"Why not, Master?" Obi-Wan
demanded.
/Because.../
"Because you still believe me to be a
child? Because you see me as some fragile virgin who cannot yet be exposed to
this?" The bitterness was back in Obi-Wan's tone and the hurt of Qui-Gon's
apparent rejection hung like a black cloud over the room. "I may be a virgin
in...this...but I am not entirely inexperienced..."
"Obi-Wan...no. No." He reached out for a better grip on the apprentice,
but Obi-Wan moved quickly out of his arms and off of the couch.
"Obi-Wan, it's not like that at all," Qui-Gon insisted, sitting up to
watch his padawan pace the small room. "Believe me, I..."
"Believe you?
Believe you? You said we could be together. You asked me what I
wished to do. Yet when I answer you, in honesty, you deny me!"
"It's not
what you think, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon stood up and crossed the room, laying a hand
on Obi-Wan's bare shoulder. "But what you are asking to do is...not the way I
would choose for our relationship to begin. I have caused you enough pain
already, in mind and spirit. I do not want to add physical pain to the list."
Obi-Wan turned to meet his master's gaze, eyes wet, cheeks already
glistening with tears.
"I have felt the physical pain, Master. I
have suffered through dreams and nightmares for months now...longing for you. I
have watched you eat and talk and meditate with everyone but me.
"I have
gone...elsewhere...to avoid seeing you-feeling you!-in someone else's arms. In
someone else's bed." Obi-Wan's voice caught as he struggled to breathe. "In
someone else's body. Can our physical joining be more painful than that?"
Panting, Obi-Wan fell to his knees, overcome by memories.
Marveling, again, at his padawan's keen intuition and resiliency of
spirit, Qui-Gon managed to stumble to the washroom on unsteady legs, emerging
with a tube of first-aid ointment. The lube and massage oil were at Mace's, he
recalled with regret; they just never used this cabin for...that.
Returning to where Obi-Wan knelt forlornly on the floor, Qui-Gon
collected his padawan with a small amount of help from the Force, and carried
him to the sleep couch once again. Depositing him gently, he spread the young
man's legs carefully and came to rest between them.
Force, he was
beautiful! The flat stomach, tight, muscled thighs and thick, swollen shaft just
cried out for attention. Squeezing a large amount of the ointment onto the palms
of his hands, the Jedi master put his hands together to spread it evenly and
then put his hands upon his padawan, inserting a finger.
Only then did
Obi-Wan open his eyes.
"Master!" he cried, arching his back at the
sensation.
"Tell me if it hurts, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him firmly. "I
do not wish to cause you undue pain."
"You...won't..." Obi-Wan gasped.
The feeling of being entered and stretched by something as simple as his
master's finger made his blood run hot and cold. "More..."
More cool gel
at his entrance and then something thicker was inserted into his opening.
Obi-Wan moaned.
"This is only two fingers," Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan. "I
will not go through with this until you can relax your body enough to take in at
least three. I meant what I said. I will not hurt you further than I have
already."
Again, just the talk of what was being put into his body was
enough to melt Obi-Wan's insides, and he managed to calm down and block out the
worst of the discomfort, to accept what Qui-Gon was offering.
In and out
of Obi-Wan's slippery back passage two long fingers slid. Back and forth along
the path made slick by the ointment the fingers traveled, stroking his prostate
with the most delicate and erotic of touches. By the time Qui-Gon added the
third finger, Obi-Wan was nearly delirious with pleasure, sweating profusely and
mentally pleading to his master for more.
Removing the thrusting
digits, Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan's hard, slick shaft and jerked it in his hand.
Once, twice, three times...and was rewarded by his padawan's scream of release
as he spurted hot pearly cum between them. Obi-Wan came and came, lifting his
hips from the couch in desperation, throwing his head from side to side.
"Why...?" Obi-Wan panted, winded from his hard release.
"Why did
I let you come?" Qui-Gon asked back. "A spring can only be wound so far before
it must release, my padawan, and you were in desperate need of just such a
release." His eyes crinkled with humor.
"But I wanted..."
"I am
aware of what you want, my Obi-Wan, and you shall have it. But there is nothing
like what just happened to relax a body-and I want you to be as relaxed as you
can. Your mind must be clear of any fear or apprehension."
Qui-Gon ran
slick hands across Obi-Wan's stomach, down into the curls below, and off to the
sides to his thighs. Letting his large hands travel repeatedly from the tops of
Obi-Wan's leg up to his sides and back down, he felt his apprentice fall into
his touches. Mace could still recall the first time he had been penetrated, and
while he, too, had wanted it badly, it had been much more of a shock to his
young body than anyone could have prepared him for. And while he knew Obi-Wan
wanted this...
"DO IT, Master," Obi-Wan said through tension-clenched
teeth, as if he were aware of his master's thoughts. "Please. I. Want. You.
Now."
Taking the time to coat his own throbbing arousal liberally with
the gel, Qui-Gon placed himself carefully at his padawan's entrance and slid
inside. He immediately felt Obi-Wan tense, felt tissues that were no longer
relaxed begin to tear. And he knew exactly when the euphoric haze of pleasure
was breached by the shock of intrusion.
But there was no other way to do
it, and so Qui-Gon continued to push, breaking back through the discomfort,
stroking places in Obi-Wan's body reachable only in male to male loving.
Crying out in pain and pleasure, Obi-Wan welcomed his master into his
body. Wanting to weep at the sheer ecstasy of the feelings flowing through him,
Obi-Wan found he could do nothing more than lie back and attempt to continue
breathing.
Fully ensconced, Qui-Gon held himself still and studied his
padawan. Face flushed and eyes squeezed tightly shut, it was difficult to tell
whether Obi-Wan was lost in the feeling or overcome by it.
"Obi-Wan?"
Glazed eyes opened, slowly focussing on Qui-Gon.
/Yes, I want
this./ Obi-Wan finally managed. /Please./ The idea of what was about to happen
made Obi-Wan's cock throb painfully.
Qui-Gon grew concerned as his
padawan moaned, but as he scanned Obi-Wan he found nothing but serenity and a
growing need which seemed to double with each passing second.
Bracing
his arms at Obi-Wan's sides, Qui-Gon slowly withdrew, the cool air like small
pinpricks on his exposed cock. Preparing to thrust again, he froze as Obi-Wan
hissed.
/Obi-Wan!/
Obi-Wan was panting, trying to center himself
and to release the pain of that one, small movement. Force, it burned! He hadn't
thought it would hurt this way. Loving was supposed to be
wonderful...beautiful...
Moving one hand to Obi-Wan's penis, Qui-Gon
stroked down, soothing him.
/Relax, Obi-Wan/
Obi-Wan surged into
the touch, arching up toward the hot hand.
/Qui-Gon!/ His senses reeled.
/Shhhh.../ The hand began to move up and down, Qui-Gon gentling
Obi-Wan's body as he gentled his mind.
Slowly, Qui-Gon allowed himself
to slip back inside the tight heat.
"Master!"
The cry held a
different tone than before. Qui-Gon pulled out once more and when there was no
sign of discomfort from Obi-Wan, he thrust in again. And again.
"Oh,
Master! More... It feels so...good..."
The earlier pain all but a
memory, Obi-Wan's mind swam. This was what he had longed for.
With Qui-Gon's thrusts coming harder and faster, Obi-Wan lost himself.
His body, no longer under its own power, rocked up to meet Qui-Gon's movements.
/I love you, my master!/ Obi-Wan thought through their link.
As
he plunged deeper inside his apprentice's body, Qui-Gon's voice was tender.
/And I cannot remember a time when I did not love you, my Obi-Wan./
It was the ultimate combination of physical and mental pleasure and
Obi-Wan thought he might go out of his mind with just the thought of it.
With a thunderous cry, Qui-Gon came, flooding Obi-Wan's insides with his
seed. Hips lifting from the couch in the helpless abandon of a second orgasm,
Obi-Wan thrust against Qui-Gon convulsively until both were weak from their
efforts.
Content and finally at peace with themselves and one another,
the master and his apprentice fell into an exhausted, soul-healing sleep.
Across the Temple, deep in meditation, Mace Windu smiled as he felt the
explosive release and the subsequent joining of the two hearts.
[fin]
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(padawan_ana@yahoo.com)