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Consequences

by The Rose (rosarocaminis@yahoo.com)

Yoda shuffled into the Temple infirmary, his eyes falling immediately on his former apprentice, lying there so still on the bed. Obi-Wan sat beside him in a hard, wooden chair, his head in his hands. He looked up blearily at the small Jedi Master, his eyes red-rimmed and shadowed.

"Welcome, Master Yoda," he said, his voice a dull monotone.

Yoda looked at him more closely. "Why so troubled are you?" he asked softly, as if it could matter to the deeply sedated man on the bed. "Saved him you did." To his dismay, Obi-Wan gave his head a single, sharp shake.

"I failed him, Master Yoda," came the hushed reply. "It was my weakness that caused him to face the Sith alone. Had I been quicker, faster, as he taught me, had I not gotten trapped behind the laser doors . . ." The voice trailed off and Obi-Wan turned to gaze down on his unmoving Master.

"Never know that for certain we will," Yoda said. He used the Force to bring over another chair and climbed laboriously into it. He tried to meet the troubled gray-green eyes. "But, saved his life, I know you did. Told me, the surgeon did. Sustained him until help came, he said."

Obi-Wan nodded jerkily at that. "Yes. I couldn't let him die --- not even if it was the will of the Force." He tore his eyes away from Qui-Gon and dropped his face into his hands once more. "I failed him in another way, too. Failed as a Jedi."

Yoda's ears drooped at the waves of sorrow that flowed off the young man. "Tell me how you failed."

"After my Master fell, I attacked the Sith in anger," he said, not lifting his head, his voice muffled by his hands. "No, not merely in anger. In rage. In hate." He shook his head again. "I think my Master was right about me all along. I am not worthy to be called a Jedi."

Yoda banged his gimer stick sharply on the floor and Obi-Wan's head snapped up at the sudden sound, his eyes wide and startled. "A Jedi you are!" the Master told him. "Decided the Council has. Knighted you will be. Faced a Sith alone, you did, and triumphed. Not in a thousand years has a Jedi done so. Proud we are of you."

"But . . ."

"No!" Yoda said, banging his stick again for emphasis. "Talk no more of unworthiness we will! Knighted you will be, as soon as your Master is well enough to attend."

Another wave of sorrow, this one deeper still, washed through Obi-Wan. It hit Yoda through the Force like a flood of tears. "It won't be necessary to wait, Master Yoda," the young man said, glancing once again at the unconscious face of his Master. He drew in a shaky breath. "Master Qui-Gon has a new apprentice now. I should be Knighted as soon as possible, and I'd like a mission immediately. He doesn't want --- he doesn't need me hanging around."

Yoda's ears flattened further. "Hurt you are," he said softly into the silence, "by what you perceive as your Master's rejection."

There was not a flicker of response on Obi-Wan's face. "Anakin needs him, and the training bond I share with my --- with Qui-Gon --- will only get in the way." He rose, his knees cracking loudly at the movement, and he turned his full attention on Yoda. "Watch after him for me, please? I lo---" Another deep breath. "I'm going to miss him."

"You leaving like this, your Master would not want."

The gray-green eyes dulled. "He's no longer my Master. His responsibility to me is finished. He has a new Padawan now, one who needs him as much as I did." He took one final glance at the man on the bed, then squared his shoulders. "How soon can we have the ceremony?"

Yoda sighed. "Tonight it will be held, if certain you are."

"I am."

"A mistake you are making, I think," Yoda said, trying one last time. "Wish to be there, Qui-Gon would. Care for you deeply, he does."

"I used to think that," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice barely audible. He nodded. "I will be ready by tonight."

He opened the door and stepped out into the hall in time to see Anakin approaching. He froze in his tracks, and it took him a moment to find his voice as the boy stopped and looked up at him. Finally, he reached out to clasp one young shoulder. "He's your Master now," he said. "Respect him, obey him, and make him proud."

"I will," Anakin vowed solemnly.

Yoda was there when Qui-Gon finally opened his eyes. "Time it is that you woke up," the small green Master said, a relieved smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"How --- long?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice hoarse with disuse.

"Three weeks," Yoda told him. "Sleep forever I thought you would."

He shifted in the bed, wincing as it pulled at his healing wound, and he looked around. "Where's Obi-Wan?" he asked.

Yoda schooled the expression out of his face. "Not here," he said simply.

"Well, where is he?"

"Gone."

"Gone?" Qui-Gon tried to sit up, but Yoda used a wave of the Force to push him down. "Yoda, tell me where my Padawan is."

"With the other children his age, Anakin is."

"I don't mean Anakin, dammit, and you know I don't!"

Yoda sighed. He hadn't wanted to get into this until Qui-Gon was stronger. "Your Padawan Obi-Wan no longer is."

Qui-Gon waved one hand weakly in the air in dismissal. "Of course he's still my Padawan. And so he will remain until --- " He broke off, his eyes narrowing. "Yoda, tell me what has happened."

"Knighted him the Council did."

"Knighted?" Qui-Gon repeated, his expression dazed. "But, why didn't you wait? Why didn't he wait? I should have been there, to wish him well, to cut his braid . . ."

"Not willing to wait he was," Yoda told him. "Hurt by your rejection he still is."

"Rejection?" Qui-Gon said, anger rising in his voice. "I didn't reject him! I merely . . ."

"Merely threw him aside in front of the whole Jedi Council, you did!" Yoda snapped, banging his gimer stick against the side of the bed with a hollow thud. "Hurt the boy deeply you did! Now, Knighted he is, and off on his own mission."

"You sent him on a mission without even letting me see him first?"

"Anxious to leave he was. Deeply troubled he is. Heart broken."

Qui-Gon was livid. "And you sent him on a mission feeling that way?"

"Easy mission it is. Witnessing a royal wedding. No harm will come to him.

On the small, dusty planet of Revenda, Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, hands tucked into his sleeves, the perfect image of Jedi serenity. But his mind was anything but serene, his thoughts on anything but the wedding ceremony taking place before him. He couldn't help thinking about his Master --- former Master, he reminded himself firmly --- and wondering how he was doing. Was he out of the Healer's Wing yet? Was he well, was he happy? Had he already begun to train the boy, the one who had taken Obi-Wan's place at Qui-Gon's side?

Pain and bitterness threatened to engulf him, along with a deep, profound sorrow that he had been unable to release to the Force. He had been with Qui-Gon for so many years, and they had been good years, hadn't they? Qui-Gon had been proud of him, hadn't he? He had always seemed to be. But, unbidden, Obi-Wan's mind recalled all the times when all he had gotten was a nod or a softly spoken "well done" when he had tried his best to accomplish some difficult kata or lightsaber move . . .

Maybe he had really been a disappointment all that time. Maybe Qui-Gon's lack of praise was because he hadn't been worthy enough to praise. Had his Master been sorry he had taken Obi-Wan as his apprentice? Had he secretly wished for a more apt pupil, for someone stronger in the Force --- someone like his Chosen One? Is that why it had been so easy to shove Obi-Wan aside to take a new apprentice without even a "fare thee well?"

Obi-Wan blinked furiously against the sudden moisture that welled up in his eyes. He was a Knight now. It was time to set the past aside. Time to face his future - alone.

"Master Qui-Gon, sir?"

Qui-Gon glanced down at his young charge, carefully keeping any trace of amusement off his face. "What is it, Anakin? And --- just 'Master' will do."

The boy nodded, his short padawan braid jiggling behind his right ear. "Is it always like this?"

Sensing the beginnings of a long conversation, Qui-Gon knelt before the boy, moving slowly so as not to aggravate his nearly healed wound. "Is what always like this?"

"Becoming a Knight?" Anakin said, and Qui-Gon felt a pang of fresh pain shoot through his heart. "I mean, you just finish being a Padawan, then - BANG - you're a Knight and all alone again?"

Qui-Gon took a long moment before answering, considering his words. This was the first time he and Anakin had discussed Obi-Wan since before the Master left the Healer's care three days ago. "No, Anakin," he said, wondering why he still had trouble calling the boy 'Padawan.' "Usually, Master and Apprentice attend the Knighting Ceremony together, and the Master is the one who cuts his Padawan's braid." He reached up to gently tug at the short blonde one, making Anakin grin.

But the boy wouldn't be distracted. "So, why didn't Obi-Wan wait? Why did the Council make him leave before you were even well?"

"That was Obi-Wan's choice," Qui-Gon told him. He drew a deep breath. He had hoped not to have to go into this, but Anakin deserved to know. "Obi-Wan was deeply hurt by a bad decision I made."

Anakin looked down, his eyes clouding over. "The decision to train me?"

Qui-Gon caught the boy by the shoulders, startling him into looking up again. "No," he said firmly. "I hurt him by announcing my intentions in front of the Council without discussing it with him first. He felt ---" He sighed and reached to rub the tension headache that was developing behind his eyes. "He felt as if he were being cast aside. Forsaken."

"But he knows you would never do that! You couldn't!"

Qui-Gon offered a shadow of a smile at the boy's loyalty. "Apparently, his self confidence was less than I believed it to be. I hurt him very badly, Anakin, and he left so that he wouldn't have to face me."

"Well, you're going to go after him, aren't you?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, although he had been wrestling with that very idea for days now. "No. He will return to the Temple soon enough. There will be time then for us to talk." I will see to it that there is time, he told himself firmly.

But Obi-Wan did not return to the Temple. He kept requesting new assignments, taking anything that was offered, be it routine or dangerous or mind-numbingly boring. Yoda listened to his requests and didn't question them, though he knew what the young Knight was doing. He knew that Obi-Wan was afraid to return to the Temple, knowing that Qui-Gon would be there. Finally, the eight hundred-year-old Jedi Master put his foot down.

"No."

Obi-Wan's holo-image blinked in surprise. "What, Master Yoda?" he asked.

"No more missions for you, Knight Kenobi. Come home, you should. Run from this long enough, you have."

Obi-Wan was not brazen enough to pretend to misunderstand. His gaze dropped, color rising into his cheeks. "I --- don't think I can face him yet."

Yoda banged his gimer stick on the floor, the noise of it harsh enough to recapture Obi-Wan's attention. "Face him you will!" he said. "Reject you, you think he did. Did not, he says. Discover the truth for yourself you must."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "He did reject me, Master Yoda," he said softly, his pain evident in his voice. "Not once since I've been gone has he even tried to contact---" He broke off, dragging a deep breath into his lungs. "He has Anakin, now. I'm sure he doesn't need me to ---" Another bang of Yoda's stick made him break off.

"Tell him, I would not, where you were, though ask me often he did! And need you he does! Need each other you do!" Yoda leaned toward the holo-image. "Come home you will," he finished more softly, his gaze boring into the young Knight's. "Come home. Face your fears you must."

Obi-Wan drew another long breath, then bowed his head, years of obedience to authority winning out. "Yes, Master Yoda."

As the image faded, Yoda sat back, chewing thoughtfully on the handle of his gimer stick. "Now," he said to himself, "face the other half of the problem I must." With a grunt, he rose, and shuffled off toward his former Padawan's quarters.

"Coming home, Obi-Wan is," Yoda said without preamble when he was admitted into Qui-Gon's apartment.

"Well, it's about time," the Master said, dropping into his favorite chair. "Now, maybe we can get this nonsense behind us once and for all."

"Not nonsense this is," Yoda rebuked him. "Deeply hurt Obi-Wan, you did. Shattered his self-confidence, made him doubt himself. Beg his forgiveness you should."

"I will apologize, of course, for embarrassing him before the Council . . ."

"Not about embarrassment this is!" Yoda said, his ears flattening. "Know you nothing about how Obi-Wan feels? Know, do you, that in love with you he is?"

That announcement cut off whatever Qui-Gon was about to say. He stared at Yoda open-mouthed, yet unable to form a coherent thought. "He --- what did you say?"

"Head injury did you sustain on Naboo?" Yoda asked. "Or lose your hearing you have, hmmm?"

Qui-Gon frowned and rose, wincing as the movement pulled at the scar on his chest. "I heard what you said." He paced the length of the room, then turned to study the little green Master. "Are you certain about this?"

"Certain I am. So out of touch are you with your Padawan's feelings?"

"Of course not!" Qui-Gon resumed pacing, his hands twisted together behind his back. "I know that he had a crush on me as an adolescent . . ."

"No crush that was," Yoda told him.

Qui-Gon spun on his heel. "And, how would you presume to know that?" he demanded.

"Sensed it I did! Sensed it you would have, if more attentive you were."

Qui-Gon stalked forward, glaring down at his former Master. "I've always been attentive to Obi-Wan!" he snapped, then he broke off with a gasp as Yoda's gimer stick impacted with his knee.

"Talk to me of attentive you will not! Broke your Padawan's heart you did! Destroy him it nearly did!"

Qui-Gon slumped back into the nearby chair, his eyes losing their focus. Silence fell, a silence so thick that it was nearly suffocating. Finally, Qui-Gon leaned forward, his head sinking into his hands. "I love him, too, Master," he said softly.

Yoda stepped up close, one small hand finding Qui-Gon's head and stroking through his hair. "Know this, too, I do. Need each other, the two of you do. Go to him, Qui-Gon. From your heart you must speak, or lose him forever, you may."

"I couldn't live with that," Qui-Gon admitted. He raised his head and gazed into his former Master's eyes. "Is it too late?"

Yoda pursed his lips. "Say that for certain, only Obi-Wan can. But try, you must."

Qui-Gon's mouth quirked into a half smile. "What is it you're always saying about 'trying,' Master?"

Yoda tapped his stick against the floor. "Unimportant that it. Go to him, my Padawan! Tell him of your love. Then, see we will, what comes."

The Temple looked exactly the same, Obi-Wan was almost surprised to note. Somehow, given the length of time that he had been gone and the fact that so much in his life had changed, he expected this to be different, too. He wasn't the same man who had left here. He'd let his hair grow out, wearing it drawn back now into a single tail. And, he ceased shaving, preferring to hide his youthful appearance beneath an auburn colored beard. But inside - inside, not much had changed. He was still that cast-aside Padawan he'd been when he left.

He tried not to be disappointed when there was no one there to meet his transport. He knew Qui-Gon was in the Temple. The older man's Force presence thrummed through Obi-Wan's nerves, pounded through the fading but still existent bond. He settled his shoulders. Qui-Gon was, no doubt, busy with his Padawan. He probably didn't even know - or care - that Obi-Wan had returned.

Forcing his face to display only Jedi serenity, he headed toward the quarters he'd been assigned when raised to Knighthood. He'd slept there only twice, and fitfully at that, before being shipped off planet. It wasn't home, but it would have to do.

His sense of Qui-Gon grew stronger the closer he got. He strengthened his shields. He would not bother his former Master with his loneliness, or with his grief. He made himself keep walking, finally reaching that nondescript door that opened at his voice command.

The room was dark and stuffy and entirely too warm. With a negligent flick of one hand, he adjusted the temp controls and brought up the lights.

"It's about time you stopped running," a deep, rumbling voice said from behind him.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat even as his heart rate skyrocketed. That voice . . .

"Hello, Mas---" He bit back the title as he turned. That was in the past. "Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon uncoiled himself from the wall, where he'd been leaning, apparently, and walked toward Obi-Wan, moving slowly as if trying not to frighten one of his wild, pathetic creatures.

"Hello, Padawan."

Oh, but that hurt! He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling against his closing throat for the power to speak. "Not anymore," he finally managed. He could hear Qui-Gon still approaching, getting quite near now. He could smell the man's scent, feel his body heat, his Force signature pounding against Obi-Wan's shields. He wanted to say more, needed to say more, to ask about Anakin, to inquire of Qui-Gon's health, something. But, when he opened his mouth, only a strange, choking sort of noise emerged.

"I've been thinking about you," Qui-Gon said, relieving Obi-Wan of the responsibility of making conversation. "I've missed you."

"I doubt that," the Knight whispered, unable to completely hide the bitterness in his voice. "You never once even -"

"Yoda wouldn't tell me where you were," Qui-Gon said, coming to a halt in front of his former Padawan, so close that their bodies were touching. Obi-Wan started to stumble back, his eyes still shut, but strong hands grasped his shoulders and prevented it. "Look at me," came the command.

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting his lip. He tried to turn away. "I need to unpack -"

"Look. At. Me."

Years of obeying that voice overrode his determination, and he opened his eyes. Blue. Oh, Force, he'd forgotten how blue those eyes were. He felt a shudder run down his spine, struggling not to tremble like some frightened Initiate.

"I need to explain," Qui-Gon started.

Somehow, the words cut straight through Obi-Wan's turbulent emotions and went straight to his anger. "Explain?" he heard himself snap. "What is there to explain, Master Jinn?" He saw Qui-Gon wince at the honorific, and silently gloated. Two could play this game. "You found a more worthy apprentice and you took him."

"I should have discussed it with you first," Qui-Gon said. "Should have made you understand . . ."

"Oh, I understand. I understand completely," Obi-Wan said. "I do have one question for you, though. Was I ever, even once, good enough for you?"

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed to mere slits and his mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

Obi-Wan nodded, pulling free. "No. I thought not." He turned away, or started to. Strong hands grabbed him again, biting into his shoulders and preventing his escape.

"You will hear me out!" his former Master shouted.

"With all due respect, Master, I will do nothing of the sort!" He used a touch of the Force to pull free, shoving past Qui-Gon. But, his breath was driven from him a second later as brute strength slammed him against the nearest wall, the impact bruising his shoulders and back and breaking what little control he still possessed. "Let go of me!" he screamed, forgetting respect and even common courtesy as he struggled against the strength that pinned him.

"No! Not until you listen!"

"I've heard all I need to hear, Master!" he cried, bringing up his hands to break Qui-Gon's grip. But, he did not break it. Instead, he found himself spun and jammed face first into the wall, adding a bruised chin to his collection. A large, hard body, honed by years of training and backed by a strength greater than his own, pressed up against him. His right arm was pulled behind him and twisted, his hand drawn nearly up to his shoulder blades, and a knee was rammed in between his thighs, effectively immobilizing him. "Dammit, Qui-Gon!" he yelled.

"Shut up!" Qui-Gon commanded, his breath washing hotly over Obi-Wan and stirring his hair. "For once, just shut up and do as you're told!"

"I have always done as you told me!" he yelled back, gasping at the pain as he struggled uselessly against Qui-Gon's hold. "I was always the dutiful little Padawan, saying 'Yes, Master' and 'No, Master' and following two steps behind as is proper! Well, what did it ever get me! Not your approval! Not your respect! And, not your affection, that's for sure!"

"You've always had my approval!" Qui-Gon growled, drawing the hammerlock up a notch tighter until the pain brought tears to Obi-Wan's eyes and ended his struggles. "And my respect! I can't believe you don't know that!"

"How could I? You never told me!" Obi-Wan flushed with embarrassment as his breath hitched in something very like a sob. "All I ever wanted was to please you, to make you proud, to live up to your expectations! And all I got was to be pushed aside without so much as a sideways glance as soon as someone better came along."

Silence answered him, broken only by the sound of Qui-Gon's heavy breath against the top of Obi-Wan's head.

"Let go of me," he said, and was surprised when Qui-Gon obeyed. Rubbing his throbbing arm, he turned - and froze. "Master?" he said in an entirely different tone, shocked by what he saw. For Qui-Gon Jinn, one of the greatest and most respected of the Jedi Masters, was biting his lower lip, tears streaming like rain down his face. Then, to his increased horror, Qui-Gon sank slowly to his knees, bowing his head like a penitent apprentice.

"Oh, Obi-Wan, how I've wronged you . . ."

Unable to bear the sight of his Master kneeling at his feet, Obi-Wan squatted in front of him, his hands finding the broad shoulders. "It's all right. Really -"

Qui-Gon's head snapped up at that, tear filled blue eyes finding Obi-Wan's. "All right?" He shook his head. "No, my own, it's not all right. But, if you can find it in your heart to forgive this foolish old man and give him one more chance, I'll try to make it up to you."

"Make it up to me?" Obi-Wan echoed, a strange feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach as he gazed into the face just inches away. "How?"

"Perhaps, like this . . ." Qui-Gon said, moving closer.

The kiss was gentle, and overwhelmingly erotic. Their lips touched, once, twice, a third time, Qui-Gon's warm and tasting of spiced tea. Large hands came up to capture Obi-Wan's face, blunt thumbs stroking his cheekbones, as the tip of his Master's tongue stroked the inside of his lower lip. The mouth moved slightly away and Obi-Wan opened his eyes, not remembering when he'd closed them. "Master?" he whispered, aroused and confused and hopeful all at once.

// Forgive me, my heart, // Qui-Gon sent straight to his mind, their bond singing with the renewed contact. // Forgive a selfish old man who thought only of his duty, not of the love that he'd been hiding. //

"H-hiding?" Obi-Wan stammered.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. I have loved you since - well, since long before you were old enough for it to be proper. But, I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?"

The Master shook his head sadly. "I was afraid. Afraid of losing you, of frightening you away. Afraid of being rejected." He broke off, shaking his head again. "I was so anxious for you to take your trials, so that I could finally approach you as an equal, as one Jedi to another, instead of as a Master to his Padawan. So that I could finally ask you ---" He broke off, apparently not able to continue.

Obi-Wan shifted, sinking back onto his heels, then reached up and stroked Qui-Gon's bearded cheek. "So you could ask me what?"

Qui-Go drew in a long breath. "To stay with me. To share my life. To share my bed." His cheeks colored slightly, and Obi-Wan thought it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. "I want you with me, don't you see? Now, and forever."

Obi-Wan fell silent, contemplating all he had been told. As his silence dragged on, he could feel Qui-Gon's increasing unease, could feel him backing away, both mentally and emotionally. Still afraid of rejection, the young Knight realized. He reached behind his head for the tie that held his hair back, aware that Qui-Gon was watching him.

"What - what are you doing?" Qui-Gon asked finally as Obi-Wan fumbled with the knotted leather.

Gray-green eyes rose to meet blue ones, but Obi-Wan didn't answer. Instead, he freed his hair, reaching to draw a particular strand over his shoulder. He watched as Qui-Gon's eyes widened.

"You kept it," the Master said in a hushed, amazed voice, his fingers finding the silken Padawan braid and stroking down its length.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I couldn't bear to have anyone but you cut it off." He reached into his belt pouch. "Cut it for me, Master?" he asked, offering the small vibroblade that he always carried.

Qui-Gon held the braid as if it were some priceless jewel, accepting the knife with his other hand. His gaze lifted to meet Obi-Wan's questioningly. At Obi-Wan's nod, he touched the knife to the base of the braid, holding his former Padawan's eyes. "Where there is emotion - " he said solemnly, reciting the words of the ancient ceremony.

A contented smile crossed Obi-Wan's face briefly before he answered in the same tone. "I will sow peace."

Qui-Gon sliced carefully through the first third of the braid. "Where there is ignorance -"

"I will share knowledge."

Another cut. "Where there is passion -"

"I will demonstrate serenity."

The vibroblade moved again, and the braid fell away into Qui-Gon's hand. "Where once a Padawan knelt -"

Obi-Wan's eyes were moist as he rose smoothly to his feet, his smile widening as Qui-Gon echoed the movement. "-- now stands a Jedi Knight," he said, his voice choked with emotion. With trembling hands, he took the braid from Qui-Gon and wrapped it around the wrist of the man who would always be his Master, his mentor, his hero. Carefully, he knotted the two ends, then took the large hand between his and kissed the back of it softly. "Bond with me?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

A glorious smile was his answer. "Oh, yes, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, drawing the younger man forward into a soft kiss.

Obi-Wan leaned into his Master's touch, but something about the gentleness of the kiss stirred his ire. This is it? he thought. "I've waited for years, yearning for his touch, been rejected and cast aside, thinking I failed him, and this is the best he can do? He slid a hand behind Qui-Gon's head, holding him still by brute force, and plunged his tongue into the older man's mouth.

Qui-Gon didn't resist, and that angered Obi-Wan even further. He wanted him to resist, he suddenly realized, wanted him to feel some small measure of the fear and helplessness that Obi-Wan had lived with these past few months. He spun them around so that he could flatten Qui-Gon against the wall, their teeth clashing together as he plundered his mouth. At last - a hint of resistance, as strong hands caught his shoulders and tried to push him back. But, instead of fear, Obi-Wan felt indignation filter across their bond.

Indignation? What, was the great Qui-Gon Jinn too superior to be ravished by a mere Knight? Obi-Wan grabbed his Master's wrists, using the Force to slam them into the wall, pinning them there while he continued his assault. He forced a knee between Qui-Gon's legs, ground his erection against Qui-Gon's fabric covered thigh, but it wasn't sufficient. He needed skin. Freeing the wrists, he began to rip at Qui-Gon's clothes, scarcely noticing the sound of rending as seams tore.

// Stop! // Qui-Gon commanded through their link. // Not this way! // Their mouths still locked together, he pushed them away from the wall -

-- only to be slammed back into it a second later.

// Don't! // Obi-Wan ordered, not caring that this man was his superior in every way. // This time, you'll do as I say! // He felt Qui-Gon's astonishment at being spoken to so by his Padawan, felt him wrestling with the desire to reassert his authority, at whatever cost. He tasted blood in his mouth, not knowing or caring whose it was.

None of it mattered. All that mattered was that he needed this.

He ripped away the last layer of tunic, then kicked Qui-Gon's legs apart, wide, bringing his Master down to more nearly his own height. He pressed his body forward, still plundering his Master's mouth, feeling finally an answering hardness against his own as he ground their groins together.

// Mine! // he sent, while his hand pushed between their bodies and unfastened drawstrings, freeing their erections. He grasped both cocks in his hand and held them tightly together, the contact maddening. // You will never send me away again! // he mind-shouted. // Say it! //

// I'll never send you away. //

// You'll never reject me again! Say it! //

// But, I didn't . . . //

Obi-Wan body slammed him, jerking his tightly clinched hand in a harsh counter movement, not caring that both of them yelped. // Say it, damn you! //

// I'll never reject you! // Qui-Gon's mind voice boomed, his own anger rising.

Obi-Wan released him abruptly, stepping back, aware that both of them were panting and flushed. He gazed at his Master through half-hooded eyes, taking in the bare chest, the rigid cock standing out from its nest of curly dark hair, the leggings that had slid half way down those powerful thighs.

"I want you," he said. "Here, now. No excuses. No delays. I want you, and I will have you."

Qui-Gon's blue eyes darkened with arousal and a hint of challenge flickered across face. "If you're man enough to take me, do so."

With a growl, Obi-Wan threw himself against the larger man again, recapturing his mouth and thrusting with his hips. Then, Qui-Gon's hands were on him, stripping off his robe and flinging it away, then his tunics, tearing one completely in two in his haste. Obi-Wan entwined his fingers in his Master's hair, plundering his mouth as if it were his only source of nourishment, of air, of life.

// Wanted this for so long, // Obi-Wan sent, unwilling to break the kiss long enough to speak it aloud. // I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn. //

// And I you, my own. //

He was naked now except for the short boots he'd come to prefer, his leggings pooled around his feet. He kicked them away, maddened by the feeling of Qui-Gon's warm flesh against his own. But it still wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He dragged his Master down to the floor and swarmed over him, kissing and biting every inch of skin he could reach. Qui-Gon tried to roll him over, to put himself on top, but he was hindered by his leggings, still trapped at thigh level as they were. A moment later, Obi-Wan's judicial use of the Force prevented any further attempt as Qui-Gon found his hands pinned firmly to the carpet.

Obi-Wan latched onto a nipple, biting it much harder than was necessary, hearing Qui-Gon grunt with pain. He laved the mark he'd left with his tongue, bringing his legs up until he was straddling his Master's hips. Their cocks rubbed together, the delicious friction nearly enough to make him come on the spot. Apparently, Qui-Gon felt the same, for he arched under Obi-Wan's weight, thrusting upward mindlessly.

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan told him, pinching Qui-Gon's already bruising nipple between his fingers. "You're not getting off that easily." He raised himself up, reaching around with one hand to guide Qui-Gon's hardness to his opening, not letting himself think about how enormous it was. "You're going to fuck me, Master. You're going to fuck me and then I'm going to fuck you. And, we're going to keep doing it until neither of us can walk. Do I make myself clear?"

A low rumble of aroused amusement was his answer. "Yes, my Padawan." But then a shadow of concern crossed the older man's face. "There's no lube -" he began.

"Fuck the lube!" Obi-Wan shouted back. He pressed the head of Qui-Gon's cock against his unprepared anus and forced himself down on it.

Force, it hurt! He heard a high, keening wail, and realized belatedly that he was the one making it. He halted, thigh muscles trembling, aware of Qui-Gon beneath him in a similar state. For a long moment, neither of them moved, Obi-Wan letting himself become accustomed to the huge organ impaling him, Qui-Gon to the tight heat holding him. Finally, the pain eased, and Obi-Wan began to move.

// Oh, sweet Force! // Qui-Gon said into his mind, his large hands coming up to capture Obi-Wan's hips now that the younger man didn't have the concentration to spare to keep them pinned.

Sweet Force, indeed, Obi-Wan thought. He'd envisioned this day for years, but never had he imagined that it could be like this. With each downward stroke, something deep inside of him exploded with a fireworks display of pleasure. Each upward stroke brought glorious, nerve-searing friction. Experimentally, he tightened the muscles in his anus.

Qui-Gon gasped and locked down tight on Obi-Wan's hips, preventing him from moving. "Wait," he said, panting. "Wait. Too fast. If you'll just ---"

Obi-Wan thrust down hard, taking Qui-Gon to the root. "No lessons!" he roared. "No rules!" He shifted his hips, dragging a groan from each of them. He opened their link to its fullest, dropping his shields. He poured his love and his need into his Master, nearly overwhelmed by the answering flow as Qui-Gon did the same. The Force sparked white-hot between them, sealing their souls together, and the fire sizzled through Obi-Wan's nerve endings, starting at his head and ending in his cock.

He came with a roar, shouting Qui-Gon's name, feeling as if he were pouring his lifeblood out onto his Master's chest. An answering shout and burst of heat within him let him know that Qui-Gon had come as well, and then he was sagging to the floor, half supported by the strong arms that he'd trusted since he was thirteen.

They lay there in post-orgasmic bliss, Obi-Wan nuzzling into his Master's warm shoulder, Qui-Gon petting his Padawan's hair.

// I never knew it could be like this, // Obi-Wan sent, testing their newly expanded bond.

// Nor I, // came the answer, followed by a dry chuckle. // Perhaps I should have bedded you years ago, when I first felt the leadings of the Force. //

Obi-Wan snapped upright, glaring down with half-narrowed eyes. "You knew years ago that the Force wanted this?" he asked, feeling a hint of his anger returning. "You knew, and yet you did nothing?"

"You were too young," Qui-Gon said, reaching up to brush a strand of sweat dampened hair out of the Knight's eyes. "Too young and too obedient. I wouldn't have been certain that it was truly what you wanted."

Obi-Wan growled low in his throat. "I'll show you what I want, my Master." With a wave of his hand, the buckles on Qui-Gon's boots popped open, the boots themselves flying across the room to thud against the small, unused wooden desk. The leggings followed, ending up draped over the back of the couch. Obi-Wan crawled between his Master's thighs, his renewed erection bobbing before him, and he caught Qui-Gon by the ankles.

"I'm going to fuck you," he said, slowly pressing the powerful legs toward Qui-Gon's still heaving chest. He leaned in for a quick kiss, shuddering as the head of his cock brushed Qui-Gon's opening. "I'm going to fuck you dry and hard until you scream out my name."

"If you think you're man enough," Qui-Gon repeated, but this time there was aroused amusement in his tone. Amusement that flared into exquisite pain as Obi-Wan drove inside him with one strong, desperate stroke.

"Oh . . . " Obi-Wan gasped. He could feel Qui-Gon's pain, could feel it in his mind and in his heart and in his own ass, which still throbbed. He stayed very still, the tightness gripping his cock nearly too much. An eternity passed as he knelt there, bent over his Master, until strong hands captured his face and pulled him down for a searing kiss.

"Fuck me," Qui-Gon said.

Hearing those crude words from his Master's lips made Obi-Wan chuckle, but only for a moment. Slowly, he began to move, gliding in and out of that extraordinarily tight heat. He drove them both hard, until he was pounding hard and fast, before he reached out to close his fist around Qui-Gon's cock. "Come with me," he whispered.

With a roar, Qui-Gon exploded into his hand. The tightening of his muscles pulled Obi-Wan over the edge, just before a warm, welcoming darkness enveloped him.

He awoke snuggled against Qui-Gon's side. A robe had been hastily draped over them, and strong, blunt fingers were carding through his hair.

"Welcome back," his Master said, his breath warm on the top of Obi-Wan's head.

"What happened?" he asked dazedly.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "You fucked yourself into unconsciousness, my love." His lips brushed Obi-Wan's forehead. "I'm terribly flattered."

"Mmmmm," Obi-Wan said. "You should be. That was my first time."

That brought Qui-Gon's head up. "Your first -?" The blue eyes narrowed slightly. "But, surely, as a teenager, you . . ."

Obi-Wan shook his head, delighting in the feel of his beard against his Master's shoulder. "No. I wanted you to be my first. I always wanted that."

Qui-Gon sighed audibly. "Oh, my precious one. How honored I am by your love."

"And I by yours."

For a long while they remained there, warm against warm, hands stroking idly, until finally Qui-Gon pulled away. He sat up with a groan, shifting so that his weight was on only one hip. He gazed down into the sated amusement in his lover's gray-green eyes. "Now," he said, his voice deep and husky with desire, "what was that you said about fucking until we couldn't walk?"

Obi-Wan laughed for what seemed like the first time in centuries. He reached up and pulled Qui-Gon back down to him. "Come here, my Master, and I'll show you."

The End