When Day Explodes

When Day Explodes

When eyes open wide to see the colors of a rainbow arching over the desert, when the sun sets on a man standing lonely
in the wilderness, when ears catch the sound of laughter in the fading twilight, I will be with you.

Night fell on Tatooine, dropping a gentle curtain of cool breeze over a hot planet. I took your hand in the dimness, squeezed it tight, and drew you from the doorway into the house.

This was our secret: Bail Organa of Alderaan, Prince, had slipped away from duty to meet Obi-Wan Kenobi, former Jedi
Knight, on the desert planet of Tatooine. I told my entourage and my five-year-old daughter (Anakin's daughter, though he does not know that) I was taking a short trip, a vacation. On Naboo. It is close by, and quite the vacation destination for weary heads of state.

Instead I paused en route to meet you. Five years has changed you so much and yet you are still the same. Hair gone white, you said it happened in a single night, the hours following Anakin's fall.

My ship sits in a remote valley about a league from your home. You told me, with a twinkle in your eyes, that natives fear the dragon that lives in these parts. No one will disturb the ship, you said. And I leave tomorrow morning so that I will not be missed.

Jerking myself back to the present, I lift my eyes to your face, finding that I am caressing your rough hand with my thumb, as though I could impart the smoothness of my diplomat's fingers to you. The calluses on your palm speak of years of lightsaber training. The newer scars speak of your struggle to live in this barren land.

Your eyes also speak of a struggle, the struggle to maintain the will to survive. You watch over the young Luke, you remember what was once so great, and you agonize over the fate of millions you think your actions have destroyed. Be at peace, my Jedi. Tonight I will attempt to wipe the sorrow from your eyes.

I smile and move closer to you, drawing my forefinger over your lips. Your eyebrows quirk upward, but you do not smile, yet.

So I take more drastic measures. I lean in, putting my arms around you, and kiss you. I put all the love I have for you into that kiss, all the longing for you that I feel when I lie in my empty bed at night on Alderaan and wish I could be with you, all the passion that has lain bottled up inside me.

And, after a moment, you respond. Sweep me into your lush mouth, your beard tickling lightly against my skin. You kiss with the skill of a trained courtesan, and once again I wonder what your Jedi missions entailed.

At last you draw back, holding me by the shoulders, and look at me. And you smile the welcoming smile of a lover who has many cares but who has finally found a place to rest.

I smile back. We're grinning at each other like two foolish children set free from school, and loving it.

"You'll need your strength," you answer, and there is a hint of laughter in your voice.

The light of the twin suns has completely faded by the time we are finished eating. You light a candle, much to my surprise. I had never seen one before.

"We used them sometimes in the Temple as a focus for meditation. Here they serve a more practical purpose," you answered to my quizzical look. I nodded, and tried to look wise.

All too soon my wonder at the flickering light fades and I grow used to it. I like it, even. It makes you look beautiful and romantic, hidden in shadow.

We're staring at each other with undisguised hunger, and not for food, throughout the meal. It's been so long, by the Seven Moons, far too long.

When the simple dinner is finished, we carry our dishes out to the kitchen, silently, just reveling in the sweet sensations of being near each other. We waste no time after that, but move immediately over to the bed and sit on the edge.

You take my face in your hands and kiss me again. The feel of your body against mine is perfect and we want it so, so very much. I moan into the kiss and you laugh low against my skin.

In the dim light, as I fall back onto the bed, you look completely unlike the somber man I'd met earlier that day, and far more like the gorgeous lover you were in your Padawan days, before sorrow took its toll on your life.

That was over twenty years ago now, nearly twenty-five. And you are still the one I dream about at night. Oh, I've had other lovers. I even tried, half-heartedly, for Queen Amidala of Naboo, though I knew Anak--Vader, wanted her. That's always been a situation I regretted not becoming further involved in. Perhaps if I had her, Anakin would not have turned, and my love could have been spared pain.

Oh, but there would have been pain anyway, no matter which way the stars swung, and maybe the fate of Anakin was beyond anyone's control. I shake my head to clear the despondent thoughts and go back to kissing you.

You're pulling off my clothes now, and I lie back and let you. You smile at me with the kind of ancient openness that I remember from our youth, almost a silent laugh. Your lips are slightly parted as you tug my boots from my feet, then pull off your own, hastily.

At last neither of us is wearing anything, and we shift to underneath the covers -- the Tatooine nights are as cold as the days are warm. I cuddle up against you, meeting hard bone underneath the softness of your skin. The hairs on your chest catch with mine and we laugh again as we kiss, skin to skin for the first time in more than five years.

Stars, I've missed this. Missed you, and I punctuate my thoughts with kisses along your jawline and throat.

I remember that we used to have some faint kind of Jedi bond, so that I could sense your feelings and you mine, when we were close. I cast my mind out, searching for you, and catch you almost immediately, like a bright light next to me.

Our minds meet and for an instant I see myself with your eyes, dark hair spread over the pillow. I turn into you, nuzzling at your skin as the connection grows.

Such perfection can only last for a few moments, I know, and we move together, purposeful. We both jolt when our cocks meet, and wrap our arms around each other, rocking together.

I see into your mind, the way you've suffered and sorrowed these last years, the way you've missed me. And it's that,
knowing that you missed me and you love me, which finally sends me over the edge.

You fall with me, gasping against my skin, our semen mingling between our bodies. The connection breaks, and I feel the loss desperately for a moment.

"Let's sleep," you say, reaching back and pulling a damptowel off the bedside stand, running it over our bodies. "You've a long journey in the morning."

I snatch the towel when you're done with it, and throw it lightly against the headboard of the bed, then take you in my arms.

Somehow just getting to say those two words after all these years makes up for a lot of not seeing you. It will all come right in the end, I think. But even in the darkness of our years apart, even when I can't see you, I will be with you.

My mind catches a glimpse of a future where I die in a flash of brilliant light. Know this, my Obi-Wan, my love. When day explodes, I will wait to greet you.