Master
Apprentice  Archive
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Ben opened his eyes, blinked. He felt peaceful and something suspiciously close to happy. A good night's rest, no nightmares, no emanations, no drugs. It was credit to Qui-gon, he knew, and he was grateful. Why couldn't life be like this, enjoyment in the moment? Actually the universe was like this, as the Jedi taught - he was the one who had fallen out of sync with the beautiful present, living too much in his past, in possibilities, other moments, other timelines. It had taken Qui-gon Jinn, a Master strong with the Living Force, to bring him back to the pure reality of Now.
He glanced over. Qui-gon was quietly doing a slow series of standing asana poses. But he was not meditating; he made eye contact with Ben at a convenient point in his motion, and gave a faint acknowledgement, just a quick look, but with warmth shown in the slight crinkling of his eyes.
Rising, Ben went to Qui-gon, who stopped his movements and faced him politely. Ben looked him square in the face and said, "Thank you." Sincerely, without flinching or looking away.
Qui-gon gave one of his rare full smiles. "Thank you for letting me help," he said.
Ben's breath caught, he nodded and turned away. He dressed quickly, trying to ignore the fluttering heat under his ribs. It was just a friendly, encouraging smile. He knew Qui-gon meant nothing more by it. The heat solidified into a tight unhappy knot, and he signed deeply once, twice, to dismiss the sensation.
As he finished assembling his pack, the intercom announced their imminent arrival.
Malit was a lightly inhabited boreal world. At a kiosk in the arrival hall, Ben scanned the hospitality options and selected one, a rustic cabin located off one of the main transit routes out of the only city on the planet. Qui-gon insisted on paying for a food order, as his contribution to their stay.
They eventually disembarked from their transit along an empty stretch of road lined by forested hills, some distance from the city. The delivery droid was waiting with their groceries.
Taking one of the footpaths that led away from the transit corridor, a short walk led them to their reserved cabin. The assigned keycode opened the door.
The cabin was primitive but had all the essential furnishings in its one room - a low-end comm terminal, fireplace of rough gray stone, minimally equipped kitchen, unfinished handmade wooden table, several sections of tree trunk for chairs/stools, an untidy stack of ancient-looking padded sleeping mats. A glance outside located a small separate building a few steps away that was the necessary. A showerhead peeked over the eave of the cabin. In such a moist, relatively moderate climate, showering outdoors was apparently tolerable, at least for the cheaper accommodations.
Ben desultorily stored their supplies about the kitchen, then said, "We still have hours of daylight. I'm going for a walk. You're welcome to come with me, since you probably will whether I want you to or not."
"I won't come if you'd prefer not," said Qui-gon.
"Do come," said Ben. "I'm sorry, I was being sarcastic. I'm not accustomed to frequent company. Don't mind my poor sense of humor. After traveling all the way here, you really should see this place. If the redbarks are half as impressive as they look in the holos, we should both be there to admire them."
Selecting one of several trails heading away from the cabin and further into the woods, they meandered up and down over several rises too small to be called hills. Gigantic trees surrounded them like skyscraping pillars. The duff of leaves and other organic material was thick underfoot, making the ground soft with a pleasant earthy smell. Under the thick canopy, the undergrowth was thin, lacking light to grow.
"I've wanted to see this ever since I first heard about it," said Ben. "These forests aren't nearly as famous as those on Ithor, but one of my Agricorps instructors had worked here and said they were marvelous."
"That they are," agreed Qui-gon, intoxicated with the richness of the Living Force aura. The enormous trees displayed a solidity in the Force as impressive as their physical mass. Waves of Force energy radiated from the trees and rose up from the ground like smoke. Ripples appeared where small creatures, little flyers and such, moved through the omnipresent energy field.
They didn't speak. The calm of the forest seemed an implicit request for silence.
Eventually they came to a low ridge that overlooked a river. In unspoken agreement, they stopped. Ben took a drink, put his canteen and small pack aside, and lay flat on his back, staring upwards into the layers of branches. Qui-gon joined him.
The Jedi Master let his consciousness expand and mingle with the surrounding life. He sensed the trees, potency flowing slowly out of the earth, into their roots, up their great trunks and spreading out through branch and leaf, great slow fountains arching far above them. He sensed the smaller plant entities blossoming up from the gravid soil.
Next to him, he sensed Ben's presence, glowing like a live ember in the midst of the muted energies of the forest. Without effort, his breathing synchronized with Ben's. Qui-gon felt their Force auras overlapping, blending. Their nascent bond was expanding.
Ben rolled over against the bigger man's side, resting on one elbow, leaning over him. Qui-gon looked up into that disconcertingly familiar face. Ben stared, searching for something, or perhaps someone else. I'm sorry that I can't bring him back for you, Qui-gon thought, and it seemed that Ben heard him, for the younger man smiled faintly. The smile looked genuine, as if it might be for him rather than for his dead twin, and he dared to reach up and touch that chin with its cleft, the stubble on the cheek, the curve of lower lip. Ben's beautiful mouth opened to admit the tentative finger, and Qui-gon felt tip of tongue grazing his fingertip, erotic in its restraint and elegance. He froze while Ben turned his head slightly, placing his mouth against the open palm, tracing light patterns with lips and tongue. If this was all he ever had from Ben, it was enough, he would be happy, sensation tingling through hand and arm and body.
Apparently it was not enough for Ben. The younger man left the offered hand and leaned in closer, hovering tissue-thin distance above Qui-gon's mouth. He realized that Ben was probably waiting for some sign, aversion or acquiescence, and he opened slightly in welcome. At that butterfly motion, Ben closed with him and joined lip to lip. They leisurely explored each other's mouths, shallowly then more deeply, tongues probing.
With his heightened Force awareness, Qui-gon drank in Ben's essence as the younger man poured it into him. Multilayered desire, mind and body hunger, grew in them both. Ben shifted his weight onto Qui-gon, spreading his legs to straddle him. Qui-gon responded by gripping Ben, neck and thigh, then sliding his lower hand to the curve of Ben's ass. They began to move together, simulated copulation hindered by clothing.
Ben broke away and reared up, sitting back, which pressed his hips firmly against the bigger man's concealed erection. He was flushed, hair tousled. "You have to choose," he said, soft voice piercing in the quiet. "We can stop now. But I'm warning you, if we continue, I can't do this with restraint. I'll have you, and beg you to have me, in every way, all ways. If that's more than you want, that's all right. We can stop."
For a moment, Qui-gon couldn't speak. He was almost mindless with desire. Somehow their brief petting had ignited an intense craving, as much mental as physical. He struggled to douse the fire. If he felt this so strongly, how must Ben feel, with his wounded pairbond magnifying the experience? It was amazing that the younger man was coherent. Or perhaps he had learned over the years how to tolerate it, while he Qui-gon was just experiencing its effects.
Unearthing his lulled conscience, Qui-gon said, "I don't want us to decide this right now. I was drunk on trees even before I tasted you. Walk back to the cabin with me, and think, and we'll decide there."
Ben considered, then gave a single nod and gracefully moved off and away.
They walked under the great solemn trees as the daylight slanted towards evening, Qui-gon watching Ben's back, and asking the Force to guide him.
The return trip seemed much longer than the distance out.
Finally the cabin came into view, portentous in its new significance. Ben opened the door, and they went inside. Faced each other in the dim light.
"We don't have to become sexually involved," said Qui-gon, wanting Ben to feel the truth of that, to know that they could be friends, be close, without that ultimate intimacy.
"I know," said Ben. "The question is, do you want to?"
Qui-gon paused, turning inwards, thinking. "I want what's best for you."
"I know," said Ben again. "But what do you want?"
"What do you want?" Qui-gon countered, buying time to sort through his convoluted emotions.
Ben said bluntly, "I want you. Badly. Disturbingly. It's like lusting after my dead mate's twin. You deserve better than that, better than me. But you know my history and can decide for yourself. As for me -" Ben shrugged one shoulder. "I would infinitely rather couple with you, with you knowing who and what I am, than have a meaningless encounter with one more nameless stranger."
Qui-gon was silent, wondering how to respond after that speech.
Ben said, "If that put you off, I understand. Not very," his face twisted wryly, "romantic."
"I'm not put off. On the contrary. Your directness is reassuring." Qui-gon didn't add that it was also oddly attractive. When the younger man finally confronted an issue, he did so with naked honesty. Would he be that open with his pleasures, as he was with his speech?
Ben's eyes blazed. "You have to choose, Qui-gon. Yes or no. No more evasions."
"Yes," said Qui-gon finally. "If you're certain." He had no sense of where this would take them, but to delay because he wanted a guaranteed good outcome, seemed a cowardly power play against Ben's choice. And against his own. He wanted this, wanted Ben, body and mind.
"There are no certainties in life, we both know that," said Ben. "But I won't try to protect you from me, if you won't try to protect me from you. We should trust each other to make the decision that's right for each. This isn't because you feel sorry for me, is it?"
"No," said Qui-gon. "I was interested in you, before, but I didn't think it was appropriate, given--considering the situation."
Intentions declared, they stared at each other. This was awkward, a cold-blooded evaluation of a possible bed partner, without the reassurance of kisses and touches. Qui-gon took one step forward, feeling impossibly clumsy. He was no suave lover under the best of conditions.
Ben rescued him by saying, "There's something I want to do, if you'll permit."
"Anything."
"Let me lead this time."
"All right," said Qui-gon, uncertain of what he was committing to, but trusting Ben. He wasn't sure if he had agreed to receive penetration, or just to let Ben set the agenda. Either one, he was willing. It would be reassuring to let Ben reveal his preferences, so he wouldn't be fumbling to learn how to please the younger man.
The atmosphere in the room changed. Ben hadn't moved, but somehow his posture now conveyed eroticism and a promise of fulfillment. Qui-gon's latent awareness of his own body heightened, as it did before a battle. Oddly, his mind flashed back to the fight with the Sith on Naboo, the memory of his body preparing itself as the Sith paced mere steps from him.
Never breaking eye contact, Ben advanced and stood in front of him, staring up into his face. Qui-gon raised his hands to touch, but Ben took his wrists in a loose grip and moved them back to his sides. "No," said Ben. "It's my turn. Be still."
Ben's fingers traveled from Qui-gon's wrists up his arms, across his shoulders to the bare skin of his neck, down the vee of his tunics, down his chest, his waist. Gripped his hips, thumbs rubbing the points of pelvic bone. Lower, to his thighs. Drifted inwards. Ben's gaze was unblinking as his hands ghosted over Qui-gon's groin, stroking the half-hard erection through the cloth.
Their gazes remained locked. Ben's mouth curved in his familiar half-smile. "Nice," he murmured. Then his expression shifted, became hesitant. "All right?" he asked.
"Yes," Qui-gon tried to say. His voice failed him. "All right," he managed to get out.
Ben chuckled. "You looked forbidding. Close your eyes. Relax. Let me."
It was a relief to close his eyes. Staring into Ben's face while being touched was unbearable. In the artificial darkness, Qui-gon felt Ben's hands wandering over his body, leisurely gentle groping. Unseen hands undid his sash, slid his cloak and tunics off his shoulders. He heard the fabric collapse nearby with a rustle. Fingertips on bare skin, teasing touches outlining his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, angle of his pectorals, his breastbone, the ladder of his ribs. Hands left him for an instant, then made him jump when they clasped him, crotch and ass simultaneously. His hard shaft pressed against the other man's palm, begging attention. He made an indistinct noise.
"Yes," Ben's voice whispered.
A wet lick on his nipple startled him. As the nuzzling continued, he felt his leggings being undone, clothing pushed down his legs, puddling around his ankles.
Hands left him and he felt abandoned. "Wait," he heard Ben's voice say. Scraping sounds behind his back. A few moments later, a crackle, smell of smoke. A fire being started, to offset the chill in the room.
Ben embraced him from behind, clothes against bare skin. Pressure on his shoulders. "Down," Ben instructed, and he went, lowering himself to the floor, found himself sitting on the edge of what had to be one of the sleeping pallets, which provided a effective cushion over the wood floor. Relentless push to his chest and he lay back, shoulder and head in Ben's lap, Ben's thigh under his neck. He kept his eyes closed. One of those capable hands gripped his jaw, the other his hair, and a mouth closed over his, tongue aggressive. He met it with his own, twining, wrestling for dominance, and groaned around the mouthful. He could feel the heat from the fire growing, warming his right side.
"Oh, this is sweet," Ben murmured, breath on Qui-gon's cheek. Qui-gon said nothing. Exposed in his body and his pleasure, words seemed inadequate.
"You could have had me before, you know," Ben's voice continued. "Even there on Naboo. One gesture and I would have done anything. But this is better. I would have done that because of him. This is for you."
"Whatever you want," said Qui-gon thickly.
"All right." Ben's lap moved out from under him, leaving him prone on the pallet. He kept his eyes closed, the better to concentrate on his other senses. Ben undid his boots, released the tangle of clothes around his ankles. Calloused hands began to massage his soles, with no apparent difference in agility between the whole left hand and the damaged right. Qui-gon discovered that his feet were an erogenous zone. He wasn't sure why that should be, but it was having an effect.
His legs parted, and Ben moved in between. Hands and lips were working their way across the landscape of his lower legs. The impact of the stimulation grew as the caresses migrated upwards, a hand on the long muscles of his outer thigh, Ben's mouth tracing his flat inner thigh up towards his groin. His legs sagged wider. He felt two hands come to rest, one on each join of hip, thumbs against the seam of leg to torso, fingers against the outer boundaries of pubic hair, an intentional tease, so close to his inflamed genitals.
"Beautiful," he heard Ben say, and he opened his eyes. Ben's red-gold hair was falling down over his eyes. The younger man's pupils were huge, high cheekbones flushed. Ben gave a predatory smile and lowered his head. Qui-gon felt wet heat as he was licked from root to crown.
The next touch was even more electric, behind his testicles, unerringly locating the opening to his body. The touch was glassy slick and some part of his mind thought of lube. The fingertip glided back and forth in his crease, shooting sparks at every transit over his closed hole. Distantly it seemed that he should have concerns about anal penetration, but he had none, just wanted more. He made a sound and tried to move his hips, and was restrained by his lover.
"Easy," said Ben's voice softly. "We're getting there."
The fingertip pressed into him, a shallow insertion that felt impossibly thick. His nerves went from singing to shrieking.
"Good," he said, and his voice didn't sound like his own.
"Slowly," said Ben. "Relax into it. Don't strain." The invading finger slid deeper, knob of knuckle slipping past the ring of muscle. "It must have been a long time, you're virginally tight."
Two fingers, same process again, agonizingly slow, stretching him. The encompassing oceanic arousal in which he was floating began to get rougher, more demanding, sexual hunger becoming localized, specific. His brain was flashing images of Ben mounting him, opening his thighs and sinking into him, fitting groin to groin. Qui-gon murmured, "Want you in me."
"No," said Ben. "Not now. I want it too badly, I couldn't--not now."
"It's all right," he said. "Please."
"Not yet. Later. You should take me first, I'm more accustomed. After I've, after we've done other things, I promise we can share that."
Qui-gon hadn't yet fully considered that thought. Ben would spread for him, as he had for the other Qui-gon. His counterpart had performed countless sex acts with Ben, taken and been taken, endless intimacies. It fired him hotter, that wealth of experiences to discover. "What did you like to do with him?" he asked.
"I'll show you what he did with me the first time," said Ben. "But he wouldn't often do what you're doing, surrender. He had trouble letting go. That damned Jedi control. I thought it was because of me. The padawan substitute he felt he had to protect. But you don't seem to feel that way."
"No," said Qui-gon distractedly. His hips moved against that probing hand.
Ben murmured, more to himself that to Qui-gon, "You're more trusting, more open. I wonder why that is."
Qui-gon groaned in reply.
"Yes," Ben said, his head moving down, out of Qui-gon's vision, and an instant later he felt that mouth closing around his erection, engulfing. The suction began, tongue pressing his length against palate, head of his cock tucked into the back of Ben's throat, far back enough to feel the swallow closing around the crown. Electricity sparked in his pelvis, Ben's fingers stroking inside, touching the sensitive gland, and he felt filled and stretched and possessed, and he came, wave upon wave, surging waterfalls of ecstasy.
He lay heavy and stunned. The pressure withdrew from his anus, from his softened cock. A blanket was pulled up over him.
Qui-gon found himself automatically doing the breathing exercises recommended after shock or injury, meditations meant to center and calm the mind, reduce distracting input from the body. He became aware of Ben tucking up against him.
Qui-gon melted away.
Too wired to sleep, Ben lay awake watching the dozing Jedi.
The sex had been - different. Good, shockingly good, but different somehow from his Qui. He hadn't expected that Qui-gon would allow himself to be dominated, even in that mild way. And he hadn't expected to enjoy it so much. It had been a tremendous high, stimulating that passive body, the big man limp except for his engorged erection. And when Qui-gon came, the taste and smell and sound of him--
This Qui-gon was more emotionally open than was his Qui. Qui had loved, at least Ben thought and hoped that Qui had loved him -- but there was a guarded remoteness that Ben had never breached. He had thought it was just part of the man's core personality. And also the fact, sad to him when he'd finally admitted it to himself all those years ago, that a mature and experienced man like Qui would never, could never, be truly in love with a callow teenager, even if Qui was saddled with him as a bondmate. He was doomed to love Qui desperately, passionately, while Qui loved him fondly, like a tolerable but imperfect match from an arranged marriage.
Now his assumptions about Qui's basic self were open for reevaluation, in the light of what he was learning about this Qui-gon. Something important had happened to his Qui, or more likely many little somethings, that put him on a different path than this Qui-gon. A path that led his Qui to leave him on Bandomeer, when this other Qui-gon had ultimately taken this timeline's Obi-wan as apprentice. His Qui had been solitary through all the years that this Qui-gon had shared his life with a padawan. His Qui's final years ended with the Jedi destroyed, and with imprisonment and torture and a toxic bone-deep pain that only ended with death. He, Ben, had been a too-late and too-little addition to that long grim life. Who knew what his Qui had felt and thought, locked inside his habitual reserve? How much Qui had loved him, or how strongly, or how completely, he would never know.
I'm so sorry, Qui, Ben thought into the void that never answered him back. I never really understood.
Qui-gon woke. The windows were dark, so it was past sunset. Sufficient light came from the embers in the fireplace to see faintly. Ben was awake beside him, and his mental overtones conveyed melancholy.
Qui-gon asked, "What is it?"
Ben gave him an unconvincing smile and said, "Nothing."
Qui-gon said gently, "Why would you need to deceive me now?"
Ben's firelit expression turned rueful. "That's the difficulty with lovers who actually know you. Especially when they're Jedi Masters."
Qui-gon lay quiet, waiting for the silence to prompt Ben to continue.
"It really is nothing," said Ben. "It's just that a lot has happened quickly. Our pasts accelerated us to this point, but they make things damned confusing."
"Every relationship has its challenges," replied Qui-gon. "What concerns you?"
"My wanting you. Or is it wanting the other Qui-gon."
Qui-gon said, "It makes sense that you'd be drawn to me because of your connection with my counterpart. But you know that he's dead, rejoined the Force. And you and I have started building a connection of our own. So at least part of your interest is for me. It doesn't disturb me that you think of your bondmate. It would disturb me more if you didn't."
Ben had a distant look when he said, "He never came to me after he died. He had told me that some Jedi Masters come back to speak with the living, but he never did. He chose not to. Or maybe I was too weak in the Force to hear him."
"Not all of them come back. We don't know why. Don't think of it as a failure of his, or of yours. Or that he didn't love you enough."
Ben said, "When I first realized about the accident, that I was in another timeline, my first thought was, maybe Qui is alive here. Then my next thought was, I've left my Qui behind, and now I'll never see him again, even when I die. I was actually looking forward to that. I thought perhaps when I died, my consciousness might retain cohesion in the Force, even though I wasn't a fully trained Jedi, and I might be able to sense him, even if just for a moment. Now I never will."
"Don't be so sure," said Qui-gon. "Even the wisest masters have never been certain what happens after death. Some have thought that the variations in different timelines are just reflections of some greater unity. When physical boundaries of time and space no longer contain us, each of our selves may all come together on a higher plane of existence."
"So I may already be meeting him again, in you," said Ben. "I like that, if it's true. And if it's not, I don't think he would object to my joining with another, certainly not to a variant of himself. At least you're a known quality."
"You were, are, loved in both timelines," said Qui-gon, smoothing Ben's hair. "Try to find some peace in that, and rest."
Qui-gon roused in confusion. Something had woken him. He reminded himself groggily that bedding down with a new lover tended to result in more interruptions that sleeping alone.
The fire had recently been built, and the light danced on the blanket. Ben was naked, outside the blanket, one triangled arm cushioning his head, the other busy at his own crotch. Qui-gon watched as Ben fondled himself. "Want to watch?" asked the younger man.
"Want to participate," Qui-gon replied, and freed an arm to reach for Ben. As he ran one hand from the hollowed armpit down the smooth chest, he realized that this was the first time he'd touched the other man. Throughout their earlier encounter, he'd kept his hands away, as he'd been asked. Now it was Ben's turn to close his eyes and be touched. Qui-gon skirted Ben's erection and cradled his testicles.
"What shall we do?" asked Ben. "You let me lead last time. What do you want?"
Qui-gon thought about what Ben would like. He also thought about Ben's hesitation, his uncertainty about his own and Qui-gon's motivations for intimacy, and what might help to reassure him. Finally, he thought about what he would enjoy himself. The best reassurance for Ben might be to know Qui-gon's own strongest desires.
He said. "I want you in me."
Ben tensed. "I can't, I told you before. I'm too--I don't trust myself to stay in control."
"You don't have to be in control. In fact, I'd rather you weren't. I want you to let go. I want to feel that."
"No, that's a bad idea," said Ben. "You're not used to it, I'll hurt you."
"No, you won't," Qui-gon contradicted. "I can relax myself enough to take you."
Ben winced, doubting that idea.
"Don't let all that Jedi physical training go to waste," chided Qui-gon. "Come now, be fair. I followed your lead last time, and it was wonderful. Now follow me, and it will be wonderful again. Trust me to know my own body, Ben."
"All right," said Ben. "I trust you." He reached beside the pallet and held up a small bottle of lube. "How do you want to do this?"
"Would you touch me like you did before?" asked Qui-gon, knowing how it had aroused both of them.
"Um," agreed Ben. "At least let's use the most forgiving position. On your side, upper leg forward, cant your hips," using his hands to guide as he instructed.
Ben pushed his doubts aside. Qui-gon trusted him to do this, so he would, but carefully. He snuggled up against the other man's back and let his hand brush one buttock on its way to the cleft. He touched the bigger man again in that hidden place, and through the Force, Ben sensed Qui-con consciously opening that gate of his body to admit the pressure. The snug ring gave to his fingers, and Ben grunted in surprise. There was no sign of resistance or pain in his lover's mental aura. Suddenly he wanted Qui-gon to know that this was important to him, not just a random fuck, not like the crewman on the ship. "I haven't done this with anyone else except him," he said, knowing that the other man would know who "him" was.
"Hmm?" murmured Qui-gon.
"I haven't touched anyone, or been inside them. The others, I let them do me from behind. But I never did anything else." He sounded like a whore. He pressed his mouth against Qui-gon's back.
Turned down against the pallet, Qui-gon couldn't physically embrace him but instead wrapped him in a blanket of compassion. The sensation was so clear, there was no doubt of the source. A bond. Ben was shocked. Somehow they had formed a bond - he had no idea how or when.
The deep voice murmured, "Ah, Ben. I'm so very sorry that you lost him, and that you spent so many years alone and heartsick. Are you sure? There are many ways we can be together without doing this."
The words burned, pain and pleasure together. "Do you want to stop?" asked Ben, although he could still feel the other man's arousal through their mental connection.
"No, but I only want what you're comfortable giving."
Ben whispered fiercely, "I want to do this so badly. But I want it to be good for you."
"It will be," said Qui-gon, pushing back against his hand. Ben added a third finger and went deep. The other man's hips began to rock. Ben moved his hand in tandem.
"Now," said Qui's voice, face still hidden from him, view blocked by the broad shoulder. Ben edged one thigh in between his lover's two, positioned his cock, slicked himself with one pump of his hand, and entered.
It was tight, unbearably good. He had forgotten how good it felt. Ben could detect only pleasure through their bond, and eased further in. "All the way," his lover said, voice even deeper than before, quite different from the man's wordless gasping during their earlier joining, and Ben obeyed, trusting Qui-gon. He sunk in almost to his hilt, and glanced down to see the two globes of the man's ass split by the root of his cock. That sight did it, as much as the tight channel that gripped his length. He slid halfway out, then back in, starting a rhythm.
The mental connection between them ripped wide open.
Suddenly Qui-gon was inside his head, as he was inside the other man's body. Emotions and images frothed into his mind. Ben had sensed the other man's lust earlier, but what surprised him now was the affection, care, even love. This man loved him, in some way, somehow. It completely undid him. He shattered. The intimacy of joining mind to mind, so different from those anonymous encounters that were only a variant of masturbation, locked inside his own head while his body was stimulated. This truly felt like making love, fully merged with the other, knowing and being known in all ways. This was what he craved with his bondmate, his bondmate...
There was sobbing, moaning, surging motion, that was both close by and far off, outside and inside, endless--
He roused as he felt his limp arm moved and rearranged across his own chest. He didn't remember finishing, or pulling out of the other man, or even if Qui-gon had climaxed. He tried to protest, but the words wouldn't line up properly. "It's all right," he heard Qui-gon say. "We're both fine. Sleep."
"Couldn't keep your hands off each other. Just like before."
Qui-gon snapped alert. He knew that voice.
Xanatos was standing beside the pallet where he lay with the sleeping Ben.
He was dreaming, of course. Xanatos was dead.
"Very generous of you, letting him go first. Just like before. I promise when it's your turn, you'll enjoy him. He's a sweet ride."
Xanatos moved his booted foot as if to nudge Ben's hip, and Qui-gon threw a protective arm over the smaller man. "Don't touch him."
"I've touched him plenty already, fool. I know that flesh better than you." The specter of Xanatos grinned and knelt down. "You don't understand, Qui-gon. This isn't Obi-wan. It hasn't been Obi-wan for a long, long time. Yoda tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen. You're making a big mistake, one that you and others will pay for."
Qui-gon said nothing, clasping Ben to him.
"Don't you see it? He's hiding something. But you could uncover it. One strike from you would crack his inner shields like an eggshell. Don't you want to know what's in there?"
He buried his face in Ben's hair, willing the dream to go away.
"Fine. You always ignored good advice, stubborn old man. Reap the consequences, then."
Qui-gon blinked. Xanatos was gone. A waking dream, or a message from his unconscious. Or from Ben's unconscious - linked through the bond as they now were, his mind and Ben's could exchange thoughts even as they slept. But what could Xanatos' image represent? Someone who had threatened Obi-wan in both timelines. Someone who had challenged the Order and the Republic. Someone not to be trusted.
Regardless of the form of the messenger, this was some meaning behind this. He just wasn't sure what it was.
Finally he dozed off.
Ben woke with a jolt. It took him a moment to recall where he was. He remembered: he had been having a nightmare. He could still hear Xanatos' voice: "You mean nothing to him--even when he fucks you, it means nothing--that high-minded Jedi pity--you're a failed initiate--a failed initiate--failed--"
The fire had died down to embers again, but the faint light was sufficient to show Qui-gon asleep next to him. Ben could see a livid mark on the man's back where he had bitten down during their rut.
With the hormonal urgency eased, his mind was clearer. The full weight of the situation crashed down on him. Having sex with a Jedi Master, this Jedi -- he must have gone completely insane. He could feel the bond, quiescent but tangible. Force forbid, now he was bonded to the man in some way, and he didn't know how to break it, any more than he had known how to break it when his own Qui had fallen into death, tearing the bond out by the roots.
Force only knew what this Qui-gon wanted or expected, or what the man thought their encounter meant. Qui-gon quite probably didn't know himself, given his predilection for following his instincts in the moment. They were stumbling around in a minefield.
This was worse than allowing a stranger to use him, where it was only an anonymous penetration. This had to stop. But he wasn't sure how to make it stop, any more than he'd known how to make the Jedi Master go away earlier. At each point in their relationship, starting with Naboo, Qui-gon had pursued, despite Ben's efforts to evade. Trapped. He was trapped. And he had proven that he couldn't keep himself celibate around the man. His innate whorish nature would out, like Xanatos had said--Xanatos...
He felt something watching him. He glanced at Qui-gon, but the Jedi was asleep.
Something glinted nearby. Qui's lightsaber, lying atop the sash, where he had put it when he had undressed the big man.
The saber was looking back at him.
He was going mad. He had to do something to calm himself, to focus.
Ben rose quietly, dressed, and slipped out of the cabin, deliberately avoiding the sight of the saber.
Qui-gon surfaced uneasily. It was deep night. He was alone, and the sheets on Ben's side of the pallet were cool. He reached out through the Force, but he didn't sense Ben's aura through the multiple presences of the surrounding forest.
Suppressing a rising alarm, he concentrated and carefully sifted through the Force currents, moving further and further out from the cabin. After a few minutes' effort, he felt it -- a glimmer in the distance. Rising, he hastily cleaned himself and dressed, noting that Ben's clothes were missing.
He tried to keep himself from speculating why Ben would slink away in the night. Had Ben had disturbing dreams, as he had of Xanatos? Had Ben fled, as he did on Naboo? What had happened?
Qui-gon rushed as quickly as he dared down the trail that led towards the flicker of Ben's consciousness. The woods were dappled with beams of moonlight. The shadows were impenetrably black, leaving him to rely on his Force sense for solid footing. The soft earth muffled his steps.
The great trees were even more still and solemn under the moon than they had been under the sun. The daylight world of greens and browns had transmuted into silvers, grays and blacks. It was very quiet. The moist chill air seemed dense as he pushed through it. Small clouds of mist hovered over the ground.
He approached an area where a large tree had fallen, dragging down its smaller cousins in its wake, leaving several spacious clearings that were lambent in moonlight. In one of the clearings, a figure was dancing.
Qui-gon stopped in the shadows to watch. Ben was doing a kata. The performance was technically incorrect; in several places, Ben had inserted his own nonstandard movements. Otherwise it was well done, the fluid precision worthy of the senior padawan level, very impressive for a non-Jedi. After watching for a few minutes, Qui-gon moved closer.
At his appearance, Ben slowed and came to a stop, with an expression that was neither welcoming nor hostile, not at all like a man greeting a new lover. "Hello," Ben said.
Qui-gon said, "Rain On Stones, isn't it? Have you been practicing katas all these years?"
"Sometimes. I know it's not appropriate, but I only do it in private. It's good exercise," Ben said, as if he had to offer a justification.
"Why would it be inappropriate?"
"I was reprimanded for it at Agricorps. They said it was something only for the Knights, that it was a waste of time and inappropriate for my station."
Qui-gon laughed. "You thought you'd be punished for improper katas?"
He knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. Ben's face froze. The younger man said in his most reasonable voice, "It's ridiculous, of course, to you. You're full Jedi to the bone. But it's not that way for some of us. Yes, I was foolish enough to believe that I was wrong to do katas, being an Agricorps reject. And yes, I did end up at the ends of people's fists and boots on multiple occasions, for acting as if I were better than them, as they put it."
"Ben, wait," Qui-gon said, attempting to recover. "I meant nothing by what I said. You have every right to do katas."
"To try to do them, you mean. I know that I don't remember the moves. Amateur effort. Not the level of performance that you're used to seeing at the Temple."
"On the contrary. Your delivery was well done, even if a few of the steps were unorthodox. Won't you continue?"
Ben's facade cracked slightly, with a wrinkling between his eyes. "No, I don't think so. No one's ever watched me before. I'd be self-conscious, awkward."
"You weren't awkward."
Anger flashed. "Don't patronize me." Ben's mask was crumbling fast. He seemed inexplicably distraught. He stormed away, towards the trail.
Qui-gon caught the shorter man's arm as he went by. "Ben, what's the matter?"
"Why did you have to follow me?" Ben demanded. "I just wanted an hour of peace, only an hour. Can't you leave me to myself for that long?"
"I'm sorry," said Qui-gon. "I didn't know where you'd gone, or why."
"I didn't know I had to answer to you."
"You don't," Qui-gon said. "But it would have eased my concern."
Ben looked away. "I'm sorry, I just...I'm not used to being around anyone. I was feeling--I don't know. I needed to calm down, get focused. I always loved katas. But I can't even do them correctly anymore. I'm just--it's pathetic, aping after something that I'll never be. You wouldn't understand. You're not just a Jedi, you're a Master, one of the most renowned Masters of the Order. Being Jedi is a given for you, an integral part of who you are. I'll never have that, I--I'm..."
Qui-gon didn't know what to say. Negative energy hovered around them, and the Dark felt very close. They stood in silence, Ben staring blankly into the trees. Then Ben's eyes found his again, and they were brimming with tears.
"Master, I tried so hard, so hard. Why wasn't I good enough? Why didn't anyone choose me? Why didn't you want me?" Ben whispered.
Qui-gon's stomach dropped. The younger man was losing track of reality. "I did, Ben, I did choose Obi-wan. It was the other Qui-gon who didn't take you as a padawan."
Ben's expression was shocked. "I...I knew that, I really did. I'm sorry, I must, I -" He turned abruptly and rushed away.
"Wait," Qui-gon said, striding after him. "Wait." Ben kept walking.
"Ben," Qui-gon called to the other man's back, "do you know when and where you are?"
Ben gave a sharp barking laugh. "After that exchange, who knows?" He slowed enough to allow Qui-gon to reach his side. "I do know who you are. I do." Ben's face was not visible as they walked in the shadows, and his voice was subdued. "I don't know why I said what I did."
"I'm not offended. You don't have to apologize," said Qui-gon.
"I keep remembering things," said Ben. "Things I haven't thought about in a long time. Even lying next to you in the cabin, I kept thinking about...I couldn't stand it. I thought katas might help."
"Perhaps we moved too quickly," Qui-gon offered. "Perhaps we shouldn't have become intimate."
"Yes, I'm s-s-sure you're r-r-r-right," said Ben, voice failing. "It was a m-m-m, m-m-m-mistake. I'm s-s-s-sorry, it was m-m-me, m-m-my need, m-m-my f-f-fault." Ben's distress rose in a wave, surging through his failing shields.
Worse and worse, thought Qui-gon. Every time he tried to reach out to Ben, it went awry. They had to stop this downward spiral.
Instinctively, Qui-gon closed on Ben and took the other man's head between his hands, leaning down to touch foreheads, sending warmth through their bond. "Hush, hush, dear one," he murmured. "I cherish you. I will not leave you. We are together."
Ben made a choking sound and clutched Qui-gon's wrists in a death grip. Qui-gon continued to hush him, whispering reassurances, but Ben resisted, struggling to speak, to say something. Finally he gasped out, "H-h-how, h-h-how can you love me? How?"
"Why wouldn't I?" asked Qui-gon. "You're a good man, worthy of love."
"You don't know me, you think you do, but you don't," Ben ground out. "If you knew, you would hate me, you wouldn't--"
"Ben, please, tell me how to help you," said Qui-gon desperately. "I care for you, and I want to be with you and to know you, but I--certain things I do keep hurting you, and I don't know how to prevent that. Tell me what to do."
Ben sobbed, the awful wracking sounds of a man unaccustomed to crying. Qui-gon embraced him, and Ben curled in on himself, shuddering.
Ben's outburst was short. His breathing steadied, evened out, and he lifted his head. "I'm sorry," he said, his usually precise voice muddy. "I'm a mess."
"Only on occasion, and for good reason," said Qui-gon, running fingers through Ben's hair.
"Just because I remember him, doesn't mean that I don't value what you've shared with me. Please believe that."
"I do. It's expected to be haunted by old loves when starting a new one."
"Force, I don't know if that's terrifying or reassuring. You don't seem to be having trouble. Or do you just hide it better?"
"I've never had, must less lost, a bondmate. In fact, I've never had any serious or sustained sexual relationship. You have more experience in this than I."
Ben was silent. It was clear that thought had not occurred to him.
Continuing to stroke the silky hair, Qui-gon said, "I have no past loves to remember. I worry about other things. About my ability to be a satisfactory partner for you. I don't mean in bed," he said chidingly, in response to Ben's raised eyebrow, "but in other ways. Some would say I'm a slow learner when it comes to emotional issues."
"I hadn't noticed," said Ben solemnly. Crisis past, he was slowly relaxing, embracing affectionately rather than desperately.
"Mine is a subtle, easily missed shortcoming," said Qui-gon with equal solemnity. "Speaking of katas, would you care to do to a pairs with me?"
"Pairs? I haven't done one since my initiate days."
"We could do Falling Leaves, it can be done pairs as well as solo."
"All right, if you'll talk me through it," said Ben.
Qui-gon removed robe and outer tunic and joined Ben in the center of the open space. Falling Leaves had an alternating rhythm of slow and fast movements, a good choice for a practitioner like Ben who would need coaching to get through the exercise.
They glided through the moonlight, at various times matching motions, then mirroring, then imitating a heartbeat behind the other. Sometimes close, sometimes at a distance, moving out, coming back in to center. At points where it was unclear what should happen next, Qui-gon gave a word or two of instruction without breaking timing, and Ben responded instantly.
Qui-gon watched Ben surreptitiously, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Ben was not an initiate or padawan, to have his performance critiqued. Fortunately Ben seemed relaxed, his movements flowing and graceful. He had the natural kinetic ability that was so well developed in Obi-wan.
They ended the kata, one folded over the other - two leaves fallen to the ground - then stood and bowed, as was proper. Ben's face broke into a brilliant smile and he embraced Qui-gon. "Thank you," he said.
They stood with their arms around each other. Images of their earlier coupling came to Qui-gon, the open need and sensuality that Ben had showed him. He ran a hand along Ben's back, inquiring, wondering if the other man would understand his unspoken question. Ben made his response clear by placing his hands on Qui-gon's ass.
The bond flared open between them, joyful.
Qui-gon fell to his knees, sliding down Ben's body. Before he did anything further, he looked into the other man's face, mutely asking permission. He reached up to pull at the edge of Ben's shirt.
"Would you be too cold if you lost this?" asked Qui-gon.
"Somehow I doubt it."
Qui-gon pushed the shirt off Ben's shoulders, down his arms, and tossed it aside. He traced his lover's collarbone, the hollow at the base of the throat, the diagonals of the pectorals. He lingered on the nipples, smudges against the pale skin, enjoying the pattern of areola around the firm nub.
Ben moaned throatily and said, "Anything you want. Last time you let me lead. This time it's yours."
Qui-gon said, "I'd rather we do this together."
"We will. But I want you to lead. Show me what you like. Let me learn what you like."
"I want to touch you," Qui-gon said.
"Anywhere. Everywhere. Ah," said Ben, as Qui-gon pinched his nipples. "Yes, harder. Harder."
Qui-gon turned his nails into the flesh. Ben swore fervently.
Continuing the stimulation, Qui-gon murmured, "Could you come from this alone?"
Ben said distractedly, "I could try. Do you want me to?"
"No. Not this time. We've just started." Qui-con continued his exploration of the man's skin. Memorized the lines of his ribs. Eased a fingertip into the navel, which seemed so tender, so vulnerable.
Qui-gon unfastened Ben's pants and let them drop, moved his hands lower, into the more intimate region, below the waist. Palpated the abdomen, with its underlying layer of muscle. Traced the meandering line of hair that led to the pubic bush framing the genitals. He hefted Ben's jutting erection, eased the foreskin back and brushed a fingertip over the swollen head.
He glanced up. Ben's eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. Qui-gon whispered, "What do you want us to do?"
"Your choice," Ben whispered back.
"You choose for us," said Qui-gon. "Everything we do is new and precious to me."
Ben swallowed and said, "I want you in me."
Qui-gon hesitated. "We don't have any lubricant."
"We don't need it."
"No. I won't do anything to hurt you."
"You won't. Trust me. I can take you. It'll burn a bit, but you won't tear me. Just go slow."
Qui-gon's lust battled with his worry. Split second decisions in battle were less stressful. But Ben had trusted him when he had asked for this, and he decided that he had best take Ben at his word in return.
Qui-gon insinuated his way in between Ben's thighs, which spread to admit his large hand, to reach behind the balls to the entrance to Ben's body. He pressed, and his finger went in surprisingly easily. Two fingers, the same. Shocking, to feel inside the core of another's body.
"Hold on," said Ben, falling to his knees, seizing Qui-gon's leggings, pulling them open and down, lowering his head. Qui-gon felt the warm wet mouth close around his cock and held himself still. He watched Ben's naked back, bent submissively before him, and caressed the nape of the exposed neck. He could take Ben like this, on his knees, mount those hips, press those shoulders to the ground. Ben would allow him, encourage him, Force willing come screaming for him. He wanted that. It surprised him, his need for dominance, just as he had enjoyed his own submission in their earlier encounter.
Ben pulled away and threw himself on his back, pulling Qui-gon down over him. "Quickly now," he gasped. "Don't think. Just do it." Ben hooked one ankle expertly over Qui-gon's shoulder, the other leg around the bigger man's waist, levering his hips upwards. It was clear he was familiar with this position for penetration. Qui-gon put an arm under Ben's hips, leaned forward and bore down.
It was a rasping entry, even with the wetness of the saliva. Qui-gon paused, but Ben demanded, "Yes, more" and wrapped his legs more snugly. Qui-gon pushed deep, and Ben arched below him and looked up with fire in his eyes. "I told you, good, so good -- "
"Yes," murmured Qui-gon, "but you're very tight, are you all right, how much can you take -"
"All of it, harder, please -"
"Open your mind," said Qui-gon, "open, so I can feel you -" and Ben dropped his outer shields as Qui-gon surged in. He held off from active thrusting; this was near-pain for him without lube, and in Ben's mind he could feel that is was knife-edge close for the other man. The position was perfect, as it allowed him to look his receiving partner in the face, kiss his mouth, his jaw, his brow. He settled into a deep rocking, not fully withdrawing, but reseating the last fraction of his length into Ben, that small stroking magnified immensely by the friction. He built them up to the edge, then held them there, unmoving.
"What is it?" asked Ben, as their rhythm ceased.
Qui-gon smiled down at him. "I'm just enjoying this. I don't want to end it too quickly."
Ben began to laugh, and Qui-gon felt delightful twitches from their joined bodies. "That proves it, you are the same," he said. "Qui-gon Jinn, Master of the Living Force and the delayed orgasm. All that focus on the present moment, put to good use. Before Qui, I had no idea that it was possible to have intercourse for more than two minutes, much less for two hours."
"Only two hours?" asked Qui-gon, straight-faced.
"Promises, promises," said Ben, rolling his hips.
A game began, to discover how many times they could approach the brink, hold off, then resume. The bond expanded as it fed on their spiraling arousal. After multiple cycles, they were both dripping with sweat, as if from a full-scale training bout. Ben was whimpering, his cock swollen on his exposed belly, and at the peak of the last climb, he went over the edge. Wanting to stay in harmony with his lover, Qui-gon allowed himself to climax an instant later.
Then something happened.
Time slowed, seconds expanded. Qui-gon saw a matchflare of light ignite inside Ben's pelvis. The light blossomed into a ruby flame, while a bar of light climbed up Ben's spine, sprouting new blossoms every handbreadth. The color of the light transmuted, becoming whiter as it rose through the column of Ben's torso. It was like watching a series of slow-motion fireworks. Qui-gon absently noted his own intense orgasm continuing, as he witnessed the process that was engulfing Ben. One light blossom flowered in Ben's chest, another in his throat, and the last opened in his skull, poured out the top of his head.
Ben convulsed, mouth open in a silent scream, his exhaled breath becoming visible mist in the cool air.
Time clicked back into its normal progression.
Qui-gon supported the smaller man as he went limp. He slipped himself out of Ben's body and stretched out beside him, reaching for a pulse, checking his breathing.
"Ah," gasped Ben, opening his eyes. "Good, oh good, incredible."
"Lie still," said Qui-gon. "You've had a bit of a shock. It startled me too."
They lay quietly for a few minutes.
"Something happened," Ben said, coherent now. "Did you feel it? What was it?"
Qui-gon said, "I watched it happening to you. I think I know what it is. I think you accidentally triggered your kundalini chain."
"My what? I've never heard of that."
"You would not have. The kundalini are a string of energy centers along the spine. They can be stimulated to achieve ecstatic meditation, or an extended orgasmic peak, or both together. There's a branch of esoteric sexual meditation techniques, the tantric disciplines. They can be practiced solo or with a partner. It helps the practitioner achieve a transcendent state in harmony with the generative powers of the Force. It's not for padawans, though, much less for initiates. Some of the sexually active senior knights and masters train with it. It's potent. Misapplication can result in psychological imbalance or nerve damage. Somehow you accidentally triggered one technique. How do you feel? Any numbness, tingling?"
"Only the usual numbness and tingling I feel after sex," said Ben. "When it hit me, I knew it was Force induced, I just wasn't sure if it was something you did to me, or the power of Living Force here in the forest."
"The surroundings may have helped, but I think you did this yourself, or we did it together. Just tell me if you notice any aftereffects."
"That's never happened to me before, even with Qui. Why now?" Ben asked.
"I'm not sure," said Qui-gon. "You know your ability to access the Force has returned. What you may not know is that certain aspects of your talent are unusual, as least to me. But I'm not an expert on the varieties of Force abilities, I'm most accustomed to Jedi, who tend to have certain defined patterns of talent development."
"Have you ever felt it, this kundalini chain?"
"No. I've experimented with some of the other tantric exercises, but only solo, never with a partner. And not the kundalini."
"Oh," said Ben. "Strange. I'm used to thinking of you as the expert where the Force is concerned. It's odd to think I experienced something that you haven't."
"You and your history are unusual, Ben. You have experienced many things that I have not, that no Jedi has."
They lay in silence for a while, watching the stars through the trees.
"We should go back to the cabin," said Qui-gon at last.
"Why? You aren't cold, are you?" Ben grinned.
"Getting there. This damp ground sucks the heat out of one."
"I could stay here forever," Ben said. "The Force is overwhelming here. This would be a good place to be buried. Slowly merge with the forest as its grows over the years. But it's not so interesting to you, perhaps -- Jedi disincorporate when they die, don't they?"
"Not all of them, or even most of them. Usually only masters, and only when the circumstances are right."
Ben was silent for a long moment. "I'm glad to know that," he said. "Qui's body didn't disappear. I had to cremate him. I worried about that."
"It's not an issue," said Qui-gon. "For myself, I couldn't care less about disincorporation. Almost anything else would be more important to think about in one's final moments."
Ben whispered something inaudible. Qui-gon knew it wasn't directed at him, and could guess whom it was meant for. It didn't disturb him. The other Qui-gon was a part of Ben forever. If he were fortunate, he would become so as well.
Ben awoke and knew exactly when and where he was. That was strange. Whether it was his sensitivity to the Unifying Force, the timeline cross, or just ordinary post-traumatic stress, it always took him time after waking to reel his drifting consciousness into his leaden body. And even after, he never felt quite integrated, his mind always wandering away from his current reality.
But this morning, with the filtered light glowing through the windows, he felt completely centered in and aware of his body. His animal nature was purring contentedly, and even his individual cells seemed to exude satisfaction.
A movement next to him, and he opened his eyes to see Qui-gon leaning over him, his face kind and fond. He had never seen that look before on his Qui - he knew Qui's expressions for anger, pain, withdrawal, lust, protectiveness, but nothing warmer or softer. Even when his Qui was being kind, he had never looked kind, his eyes shuttered and unsmiling.
"Good morning," said this other Qui, gently brushing a strand of hair from Ben's face. "How do you feel?"
Ben stretched and winced - he had strained muscles that he had forgotten he possessed, and in particular there was a deep ache up inside the back of his pelvis. "Ouch."
Qui-gon smiled in sympathy. "I thought so. Roll over." Ben did so, slowly, and felt a large hand placed gently over his buttocks, and a healing heat. "We should had done this last night, but I believe I sleep-walked all the way back and then passed out. It seems the Sith isn't the only one who can exhaust my stamina."
Ben said into the mattress, "Your exhausted stamina still half-carried a barely conscious me back here last night. And I can't believe you'd mention me and that creature in the same context."
Qui-gon laughed and kissed Ben's shoulder blade in apology. Ben felt the ache subsiding, and the touch of that hand became very distracting. He began to rock his hips under the hand, and heard a chuckle, then Qui-gon's voice. "Not now. You need to recuperate for a short time at least." A hot breath in Ben's ear, then a whisper: "If it's a consolation, you can have me if you like."
"Just like that?" Ben blurted out in surprise.
"Just like what?" murmured Qui-gon as he tongued Ben's ear.
Ben hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say, what was appropriate to say.
"It's all right. You can tell me," said Qui-gon. "It's about him, isn't it?"
"Yes, well--" Ben sighed and just decided to say it however it came out. "He rarely offered, as you just did. He enjoyed topping me, but he felt guilty about it, given the circumstances under which--It was as if he needed me to give permission, confirm that I liked it. Which I did, very much, but I like the other as well. I'm sure we would have gotten past it, his--need for reassurance--but, we didn't have much time together, before...We did the other, but not nearly as much, and I'm not sure he was that enthusiastic. It was difficult for him to take a submissive posture, allow anyone else to--well. So that's why I was surprised when you offered."
Qui-gon's hand was firmly massaging Ben's ass. "He might have had hesitations, but I don't. You know I enjoyed it the last time."
Ben gave an embarrassed grunt. "I confess that I don't really remember. After the first second or two, I was off in high orbit somewhere. I don't even remember if you, ah--"
"If I came? Yes, I did. And you didn't hurt me, as you feared. You were quite careful, although you were screaming rather loudly." Ben felt teeth nipping the back of his neck. "I'm looking forward to hearing that again."
Ben rolled to the side and reached for Qui-gon. They kissed urgently, pressing their erections between them. Ben pulled back and glanced around for the bottle of lube they'd used last night, to see it just out of arm's reach - until it obligingly skated across the floor to his hand.
"Now why can't I do something useful like that," said Ben, coating his fingers. "But no, with me it's all visions and emanations and kundalini chains, nothing practical."
Qui-gon chuckled and said, "Your premonition about Naboo was -" but he cut off abruptly when Ben's hand touched him in that sensitive place.
Qui-gon lay face-down, sprawled wide, as Ben worked his opening, stretching it. The Jedi moaned appreciatively, and Ben wondered if Qui-gon was exaggerating his reactions, in light of their previous conversation. He dismissed that thought when the big man levered up on hands and spread knees. "Please, now, please," Qui-gon groaned, voice rough with emotion, and Ben moved to kneel, put a hand on one hip joint, and guided himself in.
As before, Qui-gon dropped his shields, and this time Ben anticipated it and went to meet him. It was more familiar this time, both the mental and physical joining. Ben pumped slowly, caressing his lover's waist and hips, watching the play of muscles across the broad back as Qui-gon moved restlessly against the rhythm of Ben's strokes. He offered this, he wanted to bend over for me, he likes me to mount him, Ben thought, and in the space of their shared minds, he sensed Qui-gon's amused affirmation and his desire. That realization went straight to his groin, and he began to ride in earnest, hard sharp thrusts. He impatiently pulled his lover's thighs further apart, pushing down on the small of his back, arching the spine, changing the angle of penetration. Qui made a guttural noise, but Ben only felt blazing arousal through the bond, and he reached forward and gripped the back of his partner's neck aggressively, strands of long hair pinched between his fingers. "Down, yes, mine -" he snarled, and as an afterthought, seized the other man's swollen cock and pulled roughly. With a shudder and a cry, Qui came, and Ben gave a triumphant "ha!" of approval before coming himself in rapid succession.
Collapsed, gasping for air, Ben saw Qui-gon's grin and began to laugh his joy.
They spent the rest of the day on a long hike, looping through the mountains past a small lake before circling back to the cabin, with several stops along the way, which inevitably became sexual interludes. They dallied without ever fully removing their clothes, using hands and mouths for release.
Even aside from their explicit sexual exchanges, Ben was physically affectionate, generous with little caresses. Not a demonstrative man himself, Qui-gon had to remind himself to reciprocate, to touch Ben in return, rather than just to enjoy Ben's touches.
Before the evening meal, Qui-gon asked for privacy to make a call to the Temple, and Ben obligingly went outside to gather firewood.
The slanting light of the late afternoon fell across the terminal screen, leaving a glare that made it difficult to see the Council member on the other side of the conversation.
"Mace, I've thought about solutions for his Force abilities. The only thing that makes sense is for him to get Jedi training."
"You know our policies against training people who are past their childhood. That's not the only solution. He could have a Force control implant, or a suppressive drug regime, or be sequestered in the Temple or some other safe place so he wouldn't be a risk to himself or others."
"Or we could just kill him," Qui-gon said bluntly. "That would solve the problem too."
"That's unthinkable, and you know it."
"He might prefer it to being imprisoned or incapacitated for the rest of his life."
"Ben is a realist. He would understand why it was necessary," said Mace.
"The sad thing is, you're quite right. He would go along with it. But it would eventually kill him. In the past few years, he's just begun to emerge from the shell he'd built around himself. I think that's why his Force ability is expanding as well. Interfere now, and you'll erase all the progress he's made."
"Training him is not an option, Qui."
"Why not? The Force is granting him this power. Why should we be less willing to give him the knowledge to understand it?"
Mace shook his head. "It's too risky."
"Ben would never turn to the Dark Side, and you know it. If he was going to turn, he would have done so already."
"Perhaps. But he's still not a good candidate for training. Who would train him? What would he be? He couldn't be a padawan."
"Why not?" asked Qui-gon recklessly. "But in many ways he is unique, I agree. As for who, I could do some of it, but in some areas his Force talents are beyond me. He'll need the help of several Masters, Yoda perhaps, and others."
"I can't support this idea. I'm not inalterably opposed to it, but I can't support it. Not yet. Not without knowing more about the nature of his abilities and his psychological stability. The fact that he already has experience as an initiate is a point in his favor, however. I will share your idea with the Council. On another topic, how is he tolerating your presence? What are you telling him is the reason for your extended stay with him?"
"He's doing well, considering that he's not accustomed to a companion. As for reasons, I'm telling him the truth, part of it: that I feel very strongly that we need to be together right now. So far, he's willing to accept that on my supposedly superior authority as a Jedi Master. And there's one more thing you should know, Mace. We've become sexually involved."
Mace's gaze was piercing. "I hope you know what you're doing, Qui."
"I have to do what I think is right. You know that. It may complicate things initially, but there will be greater final serendipity."
"I hope you're right, my friend. Please keep us informed."
The next day, Ben wanted to go back to the planetary capital and see the sights, including the main museum. "I've always loved museums," he said. "Back when I couldn't read much because of the headaches, I could always look at exhibits. It was the only mental stimulation I could tolerate sometimes."
"You seem to tolerate all kinds of stimulation now," said Qui-gon, deadpan.
After catching a public transport back at the main road, they spent the morning walking about the city. At the museum, Qui-gon left Ben to wander and made a quick visit to the facilities, then searched for a public comm.
The terminals were in a dead-end hallway, not private, but good enough for a quick check-in. He placed his call.
Without preamble, Mace said, "The Council has discussed it, and we want him here. He needs to be evaluated. You should bring him in."
"Immediately? What's the rush?"
"Now that we know about these emerging Force talents of his, we might as well deal with the situation. There's a ship leaving tomorrow. Be on it and we'll see you within the day."
"What did the Council discuss about the options? What can I tell him?"
"We can't resolve anything until we get a better understanding of his state of mind and level of talent. It doesn't make sense to commit to a course of action beforehand."
"I'm opposed to any decision that might be forced on him, or any course of action that leaves him with less freedom and abilities than he has right now," said Qui-gon.
"Duly noted. You know we'll do our best by him, whatever the circumstances. Just get him here. Do you think he'll give you any difficulty?"
"No, I don't think so...but it's unfortunate. Things are quite different than I expected. I came to make a friend, found a lover, and now I have a charge to fulfill."
"How is your relationship with him progressing?"
"Before this, I would have said well. Now, I'm sorry to have it intermingled with this. It confuses things."
"Take whatever measures you think are appropriate. Just get him on that transport tomorrow. I'll see you soon."
Qui-gon terminated the session and sighed. He wasn't looking forward to telling this to Ben. He pushed his chair back, stepped away from the console -
--and collided with Ben, who stepped out from behind another one of the terminals.
"Oh," Qui-gon said inadequately. "I was on my way to look for you."
Ben was furious, in his quiet, controlled way. "So that's what all this has been about."
"No, this is not what it's all been about. Your Force skills were unexpected but since I became aware of them, I had to share that with the Council."
"Of course," said Ben sarcastically. "Although if that's what you were sent for, to observe my unusual Force abilities and bring me back under the thumb of the Jedi, then there wasn't any need to bed me. Except for the entertainment value."
"Our relationship has nothing to do with this."
"Indeed."
"Listen to me," said Qui-gon urgently. "I didn't become intimate with you for ulterior motives. Your Force talents are important to me because of what they might mean for you, for good or ill. Frankly, things would be simpler right now if these Force abilities didn't exist. But they do. They're a gift, a powerful gift, and we should welcome them as such."
"I'm willing to believe that's your honest opinion. But you can't convince me that the Council takes such a view. I'm a risk to be mitigated and a freak to be studied."
"I've advocated that you be trained."
"Trained? Why? For what? I can't be a Jedi," said Ben bitterly.
"Trained because knowledge is better than ignorance. The Force has seen fit to give you this ability. It would be wrong of the Order to deny you the skills to live with it. As for your not being Jedi, I'm not so sure about that. Not at all."
"The Council cannot possibly share that thought."
"They don't, not all of them. Or any of them, yet," Qui-gon amended.
"So, training is one option, for whatever end. What are the other choices?"
"Permanent residence in a safe location. Probably one of the temples. "
Ben said quietly, "Ah. A comfortable incarceration. What about elimination of the abilities?"
"That's a possibility too, yes."
"What are the methods? Drugs, I have some experience with that one. Suppressant collar or implant. Or a more permanent solution. Surgery. Cauterization. Lobotomy. Or I could just conveniently die."
"Those last are not options. Don't even think them."
"I'll bet the Council considers them all to be options."
Qui-gon had nothing to say to that. It was true. "You should think about which option you prefer."
"I doubt they'll leave the choice up to me."
"There is always a choice, regardless of what others do. You should think about yours."
"Yes, Master," Ben said, bowing with sarcastic obedience. "I'd like to go back to the cabin, if that meets with your approval, as the one who's holding my leash."
Their trip back to the cabin passed without words. Qui-gon cooked evening meal, making one of Obi-wan's favorites when Ben declined to state a preference. They ate in silence, cleaned the kitchen in silence, sat in silence.
This can't go on, Qui-gon said to himself, and then aloud, "We should talk. This isn't helping anything."
"Talk about what? Your deceit? My feelings of betrayal? My idiocy in taking you at face value? I would think that silence is preferable right now."
"I'm sorry you feel as you do. But I say to you again: this turn of events was unforeseen, at least by me."
"I'm well aware of Qui-gon's lack of ability in foreseeing," Ben snapped. "But that doesn't excuse my blindness on this. What the hells is prescience worth, if it won't forewarn me of the very things that matter to me most. I was too wrapped up in this whole romantic, sexual--mistake. I won't call it a relationship. What a load of crap, all of it."
"It's not crap to me," said Qui-gon.
"You damned hypocrite. I trusted you. But I was wrong. Qui would never have lied to me as you did. You pride yourself on being the iconoclast Jedi rebel, but you're a slave of the Council, after all, spying and fetching."
"I serve the Light first, then the Order, then the Council. And now you're a part of the mix. I didn't do this because the Council asked me to. I'm doing it because I think it's the right thing, for you as well as for the Order. I wish I could convince you of that."
"You don't understand me at all, do you," Ben said coldly. "I completely agree with you. If I had ever suspected that I could be a threat to the Light, or to the Jedi, I'd gladly give up anything, even my life, to prevent that from happening. My complaint is that you should have told me, at the beginning, when you first began to think along these lines. I should have been a participant in these discussions, rather than kept ignorant by my supposed betters, the high and mighty Jedi, manipulators of other people's destinies."
"You're right. I made a mistake. I thought--I'm not sure what I thought. I was paying more attention to other things. It won't happen again."
"Ah right. The word of a Jedi?" Ben took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly. "I'd like to spend some time in the forest. We're leaving sooner than I expected, and I don't know when I'll be back, or in what condition. I'd like to go sit under the trees and feel the Force. Alone. Assuming you'll permit me, of course."
"Of course. I'm not your jailer, Ben."
The other man gave him a hard look and walked with deliberate steps out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
That had been a painful conversation. Qui-gon settled to his knees. He had much to meditate on.
Dusk came, then full night. Ben didn't return.
Qui-gon thought about going after him. But he had meant what he said: Ben wasn't his prisoner. He doubted that Ben would run. He hoped that Ben wouldn't pursue a more permanent solution. Ben had mentioned death and had talked about the groves, how peaceful they were, an ideal resting place. What had been only idle conversation at the time, might take on a whole new meaning to Ben now.
After midnight, Qui-gon stepped outside the cabin. The air was frigid, much colder that it had been the night previously. The humidity made the chill more acute.
He went inside, found several blankets, and went after Ben.
He followed Ben's Force signature until he found the man obscured in the shadows, sitting with his back against one of the enormous tree trunks. Qui-gon laid one folded blanket on the ground next to Ben, for sitting on if he so chose, and draped the other around his shoulders.
Ben opened his eyes and looked at him.
"I thought you might be cold," said Qui-gon.
"I keep thinking about him," said Ben.
"He loved you, Ben, he loves you still."
Ben grimaced. "Not that him. The other him. Xanatos."
Qui-gon didn't comment on the fact that Ben said that name without difficulty. Instead he said, "Xanatos is dead, in both timelines. He's behind you now."
"Is he?" asked Ben. "How can you be sure? It takes some things, some people, a very long time to die. Perhaps they never do."
He didn't know what to say to that.
"Please leave," said Ben.
Qui-gon walked back to the cabin and sat alone, waiting for the morning.