Daylight

by Cajolerisms

Title: Daylight
Author: Cajolerisms
Archive: Master_Apprentice, my own site
Category: Alternate-Universe, non Q/O, Angst, Series
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Beacon takes place 2 years before TPM. You'll need to read chapters 1-3 to know what's going on here.
Summary: The fourth part in the Beacon series. The morning after presents a complication. Obi-Wan takes a step forward.
Feedback: Ooh yes, give it to me baby. Good, bad, anything and everything!
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to George.

/Telepathy/

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and returned his attention to the space in front of him, sitting perfectly still. He was moving his way up through a list of increasingly difficult material. The various dried organic plant matter had been easy, the nerf jerky less so. This time, it was a fresh cut, surreptitiously acquired by Qui-Gon earlier that morning for their lesson from the kitchens.

He'd been working on this new exercise all morning. His focus honed to a fine point, Obi-Wan could see each fiber of the meat, each atom. Their movement was clear and deliberate in the Force, giving off energy that would transfer indefinitely from one to another. It was a perfect moment between the Living and Unifying Force. Obi-Wan knew he could meditate like this forever, but that was not his task. Instead, he nudged the particles just slightly, feeling them shift from their intended paths and building speed as he fed them energy from the surrounding Force until the whole thing hummed in his mind's eye.

The steak burst into flames. Obi-Wan sat back with a gasp, blinking sweat from his eyes.

"Good," his master's voice rumbled behind him. "You're down to two minutes."

The room filled with the aroma of cooked meat. Qui-Gon gave it a mental jab, testing Obi-Wan's work, which made it shift slightly on the plate. "Not bad. A little overdone, perhaps."

"I can't believe you've known how to do this the whole time, considering how many ration bars we've had to choke down in every muddy hole from here to Hutt Space," Obi-Wan grumbled.

His master chuckled. "Adversity builds character. You need a break. Let's have lunch."

Obi-Wan picked up the plate and followed Qui-Gon from the shielded practice room. He poured juice and laid out dishes while his master sliced the steak for sandwiches. It was nice knowing that no matter how much things changed, some little things stayed the same.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, until Qui-Gon brushed away the last of his crumbs. "So what have you learned?"

It was a familiar question. Over the years, many of Obi-Wan's new lessons had been followed by an informal reflection, usually over a shared meal. Early in his apprenticeship, he realized the purpose was not to memorize new facts or techniques, but to incorporate the new lesson into his growing practical knowledge of what it meant to be a Jedi.

"It's much the same as any other form of Force Manipulation," he began, then paused. "But it's not really."

Qui-Gon's lip twitched slightly, not quite smiling. "How so?"

"In Force Manipulation, as we are taught, the focus is inward. Its purpose is to extend the natural limits of the body, like in speed, endurance, or pain tolerance. For skills like levitation, it's still an extension of what our bodies do naturally, to lift or push an object, which is why it takes a great deal of energy to do it. It also requires the least amount of discipline and fine control, which is why even untrained Force users figure it out.

"But with our lesson today," he continued more slowly. "The Manipulation had nothing to do with the body. It was altering the properties of something on a molecular level. It was pure mental control over something you're not connected to. That's why I don't feel physically tired at all."

Obi-Wan paused for a moment. The distinction was subtle, and tricky to explain. His master sat in silence, letting him work out his thoughts.

"And it's not like building a psychic shield or something that is entirely mental because it affects the physical plane. It's finessing Force Control the next level where-- and forgive me for sounding melodramatic-- you're playing with the fabric of the universe. It's like pushing up against a boulder versus using a lever."

Qui-Gon did smile then. "Why would this skill not be generally taught, then?"

"Because it's too much," Obi-Wan replied simply. "Being able to alter physical reality at just a thought separates us from our surroundings. It becomes easy to detach yourself, and makes killing easy. I suppose you could even stop people from dying. If many individual Forcer users had such powers, we would be impossible to control."

"Ah," said a new voice. "You're learning."

Obi-Wan jumped, and turned to see Xanatos and Tahl in the doorway. "Damn it, when do I get to learn how to sneak around like that?"

Qui-Gon's first apprentice simply grinned. He sniffed the air. "The pyro lesson, Qui-Gon? Always a classic."

"Pity you didn't save any steak for us," added Tahl, sidling next to her bondmate with her own glass of juice. He smiled and kissed her by way of greeting.

"I don't know how you do it, little brother," Xanatos said from the doorway. "These two weren't simpering over each other like a pair of mating birds when I was a padawan. Good thing, too, or I think I'd have vomited myself to death."

Obi-Wan pointedly ignored the nickname and shrugged. "I think it's nice."

Tahl made a face. "Thank you, Obi. Ever the charmer, Xan."

"I can see I'm outnumbered here," Xanatos sighed dramatically. "To business. Qui-Gon, I have some information you'll want to see about the Senate as soon as possible."

Qui-Gon's merry expression turned serious. "I'm available now." He gave Tahl another kiss, murmuring something inaudible that made her smile. With a warm squeeze of Obi-Wan's shoulder and an eye roll at Xanato's mock disgust, he disappeared with his former apprentice into the hall.

Obi-Wan shook his head and finished off the last of his sandwich, only to see Tahl grinning strangely at him from across the table.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Don't give me that what. Did you and Mal bump banthas last night?"

"Master Tahl!"

"Oh come off it, Obi-Wan. If you don't spill the details now, I'll have my padawan interrogate you when she gets backs and you know she will be furious with you for doing it while she was away."

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

The grin turned predatory. "Wouldn't I?"

"My master has the good graces to respect my private life," he scowled.

"Your master gets all the good gossip from me," Tahl retorted.

Obi-Wan sighed. He had been relieved when Qui-Gon dove into their lesson first thing that morning, but long experience told him that resisting Tahl's prodding was futile, especially when Bant got involved. "There's not much to tell, really. Last night went pretty well, I thought, but when I woke up this morning, Mal was gone."

"Really? That's odd," Tahl frowned.

Obi-Wan shrugged, not needing to hide his dejection from her. "It's probably for the best. He's leaving in a few days anyway and I'll probably never see him again."

"Oh Obi," and Tahl's arms were around him. Her embrace was not solid and engulfing like his master's, but equally full of love and comfort. It was surprisingly soothing, which made Obi-Wan feel even more pathetic.

"Master told me to live in the moment, and I did," he said with disgust. "but I just don't know. Did I do something to drive him away?"

He sat for a long time with his head on her shoulder, until she eased open the fist he didn't realize he was making.

"You should tell him about Kru," she said. When he stiffened, she continued, "Your master is a great Jedi, a good man, and cares deeply for you, but you must remember, Obi, that he's just a man. He doesn't fully understand your connection to the Unifying Force. He lives so purely in the Moment that sometimes he doesn't realize that it's not easy for you to let go of the past."

"It shouldn't be this hard."

"No, Obi, it should. What happened to you hurt. No one blames you for being afraid."

"A Jedi shouldn't be afraid."

"A Jedi conquers his fear," Tahl corrected gently. "Meditate on it. The Force will show you the way."

She was right, of course. Obi-Wan didn't protest when she extricated herself from him and shooed him out; he would need to clear his head before he saw Mal again.

At some point after exiting the hidden lift, Obi-Wan realized that he didn't even know where to find Mal. First things first though, he needed to regain his balance, and so decided against going back to the room where he and Mal had spent the night. Instead, he found a relatively quiet corner of a large open-air garden. He certainly didn't want to be alone with his thoughts, and the distant cacophony of initiates playing, fountains bubbling, and birds singing help him tune into the Living Force.

The exercise with his master from that morning helped. His mind was already primed to focus in on his immediate surroundings. He let himself waft on all the signs of life around him, unburdened by the pains of the past and uncertainty of the future. The Force felt glad to have him here as it thrummed under his skin in reassurance.

When he eased out of his trance, Obi-Wan felt a familiar presence in front of him. He opened his eyes to see Mal sitting a respectable distance away, looking as troubled as Obi-Wan had felt earlier, which surprised Obi-Wan. In the days that they had spent together, the younger padawan had been the very picture of control and poise despite the recent upheaval in his life.

"Hello," Obi-Wan said when Mal made no move to speak.

"Hello."

"Where did you go this morning?"

Mal shifted uneasily. "The salles. I needed to run through some katas."

It seemed like half an answer at best. Though Obi-Wan wondered what had Mal so upset, he couldn't keep all his own confusion and hurt from leaking into his voice. "You should have told me."

"I should have, yes."

"Do you make a habit of running off from your sexual partners?"Obi-Wan kept his voice low, partially to avoid drawing any attention to their conversation, but mostly to maintain some of the calm the meditation had afforded him.

"No."

"So I'm a special case."

"That's not what I meant," Mal stammered. He seemed to search for words that never came. "It's not wise to duel unless we're on solid footing, so I came to apologize."

"I agree, but you owe me some better explanation. I don't know about you, Mal, but I don't take sex lightly. I thought there was something between us. If I'm wrong, then tell me now."

Mal's gaze fell. "You're right. I do owe you." He hesitated. "I was scared."

"Scared?" Obi-Wan said in surprise. "Of what?"

Still not meeting his eyes, Mal's ever restless hands began worrying the hem of his sleeve. "Forgive me for being tactless. I'm not good with people in general, and I'm not very, um, experienced."

Obi-Wan softened at that. He wasn't far removed from those first awkward encounters himself, and Mal was younger, he reminded himself. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Well, the thing is," Mal continued. "I really like you, Obi-Wan. I've never been attracted to anyone like I am to you. What happened last night was more than I hoped would happen between us, and this morning, I realized that in few days, I'd never see you again. I mean, I've always known that, but it hit harder than I expected."

"Mal--"

"I've never felt so attached to anyone, not even my master. The intensity of it-- it frightened me."

Obi-Wan watched as Mal exhaled deeply. He took several breaths, and by the time he met Obi-Wan's eyes, he was again the perfect picture of Jedi calm—though this time Obi-Wan could see the mask for what it was. Here was a lonely young man in a strange place, knocked off balance by circumstances beyond his control and holding his composure with admirable aplomb. Obi-Wan should have recognized it right away. Instead, he had been busy acting like a lovelorn teenager.

Qui-Gon and Tahl were right. He needed to tell Mal, if only for himself. He was unnecessarily burdening himself and it had thrown him off balance, had for years, if he was going to be completely honest. He needed to overcome this guilt and fear of…what? Loss? Abandonment? Whatever name Obi-Wan gave it, it needed to be exorcised.

Mal knelt before him, growing more and more uncomfortable in Obi-Wan's silence. Before Obi-Wan knew what to say, the younger padawan sat up ramrod straight and cleared his throat. "I have offended you, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi," he intoned loudly, causing several knights nearby to look their way.

Obi-Wan let out a shout of surprise as Mal fell forward, face pressed into the grass. To his horror, Mal grabbed the hem of his tunic and began reciting ritual Contrition right there in the garden, complete with witnesses.

"Mal!" Obi-Wan hissed in panic. "Get up! I'm not mad at you! Please!"

"You're not?" Mal looked up in surprise.

Obi-Wan caught the sputtering string of curses before they had a chance to burst out and scandalize them even more. The look of shock and worry on Mal's face was so earnest, and the situation so ridiculous that he found himself smiling.

"We make a fine pair," he laughed at last, shaking his head.

"Huh?"

"There's something I need to tell you but not here. Would you like to come to my quarters for tea?"

Every emotion flickered across Mal's face, from surprise to joy to apprehension to confusion. After running the gamut, he seemed to settle for delight. "I'd love to."

As they walked through the Padawan Hall, a few of Obi-Wan's agemates gave Mal appraising looks and quite a few more raised their eyebrows at Obi-Wan. He gave Mal's hand a reassuring squeeze. Normally, he liked to avoid the rumor mills whenever possible and never showed affection in public except with his closest friends, and that was of a completely different sort. Today, however, he found he didn't care.

He made a quick stop in the kitchen for tea and a snack before leading Mal into his small dorm. There wasn't much furniture besides a desk and chair, so they lounged side by side on his bed, eating cookies and talking about nothing in particular.

"Do all the padawans live in this hall?" Mal asked between bites.

"We move out of our masters' quarters when we reach senior level. By then I guess they figure we've done enough relationship building and need to learn some independence."

"It's an interesting idea. Bruck and I are the only padawans based on Baltimn, so there's no bother doing anything special for us. Whatever our masters wanted to do was fine so long as we didn't burn the place down."

Obi-Wan laughed. Mal was good company; he slightly regretted complicating the whole matter with sex, but he couldn't deny that he still found the other padawan powerfully attractive—even more now that he had a glimpse of Mal beneath his Jedi veneer.

And the way Mal smiled…he just wanted to make him smile like that every day.

Suddenly, his ears filled with the sound of air rushing. He shook his head. The Force wasn't letting him off that easy.

"Obi-Wan?" Mal asked, concerned.

Obi-Wan smiled at him and pushed himself up, but when he shifted his weight his left arm buckled beneath him. The pain was minute and over in a flash, but the shock of it made him gasp.

Mal sat up, alarmed. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just landed hard on my wrist the other day when we were sparring," Obi-Wan muttered. "It's my own fault."

"Nevertheless, you shouldn't leave an injury untended." Mal had his hand on Obi-Wan's forearm, massaging and stroking the tender area.

"Wait--"Obi-Wan protested. "You can't—"

"Relax, I know what I'm doing. Super secret Jedi powers, remember?"

Obi-Wan felt the comforting heat of Force Healing wrap around each muscle fiber and tendon, but it was different than when the healers used it. It didn't smack of Mal's Force signature, nor did the energy surge into him from Mal's hands. Instead, Obi-Wan felt the Force shift almost imperceptivity from all directions, just like the fire exercise from that morning.

"That feels nice," he admitted with a sigh.

Mal leaned in, hovering hesitantly until Obi-Wan closed the minute distance between them with a kiss. It was yielding and sweet as Mal's lips parted, breath slipped over them as if he had been holding it in from their night together. His fingers, restless as ever, traced over the sensitive skin of Obi-Wan's left wrist, touching the web of scarring that almost entirely encircled it. "Where did you get this?"

The moment burst. "Skirted too close to the Unknown Region and got boarded by pirates," Obi-Wan replied automatically. He willed himself to not tense, focusing instead on setting his mug on the desk.

Mal held Obi-Wan's hand in both of his, stroking his thumb over the pale, raised skin. "This must have been bad, if it scarred so much. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Obi-Wan. I shouldn't have pried."

Obi-Wan steeled himself. "I want—I need to tell you. You should know that I haven't been romantically or sexually involved with anyone in four years."

Mal's expression intensified in alarm. "Did something happen?"

"I was involved with a Knight for a while, and the way it ended sort of put me off dating."

Seeing his hesitation, Mal squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "It's okay, Obi-Wan. You can tell me."

He shut his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. If he could tell the Council back then, why was it infinitely more difficult now? The pain and regret had rooted itself in his memory. Tell it like you're giving a report. He opened his eyes and forced the most innocuous details stumbling out first.

"I met Kru when I was eighteen and he was twenty-six at a get-together of a mutual friend. The attraction was instantaneous. We flirted whenever we were both in-Temple. It went on for months, back and forth. He was charming and passionate, and looking back on it now, probably took more than a little pride in corrupting me."

It wasn't as painful as he feared to talk about it out loud. Each word came with a little more ease.

"He wasn't my first, but he was definitely more experienced than anyone I had ever been with. We spared together, and went out into the city a few times. It was a fun, casual sort of affair.

"But you know how these sorts of things go. He was a young Knight who needed to establish a reputation, so he was out in the field most of the time. With my master being in such high demand, we were rarely around either. Before I knew it, a year had passed. Our little affair had survived through messages and meeting together whenever we could manage, and had turned into a real friendship.

"So a little after my nineteenth birthday, he was assigned to shepherd me on one of my first forays into the field without my master. It was a simple assignment: to pick up a group of children identified for Jedi training and bring them back to Coruscant. We took a small passenger ship to the pickup point in the Mid-Rim, which ran close to the Unknown Region."

Obi-Wan stopped. The details swarmed in his mind, clamoring and chaotic, but he clamped down on his rising anxiety. Mal gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He's a Jedi. He'll understand, Obi-Wan thought, fighting to calm his pounding heart. Everything was hyper-vivid in his mind's eye, from the particles of dust gathered in the corners of the control panels on their old ship to the nearly imperceptible whine of the hyperdrive that they didn't register until it was too late.

"On our way back, we were ambushed by pirates. They had some sort of gravitational generator that was strong enough to knock our ship out of hyperspace. They used weaponized spider droids to dismantle the shielding on the ship, and were beginning to board through two of the airlocks.

"The children-- there were about twelve of them, the oldest being four-- were in the cabins and sleeping under Force Suggestion, so they were safe for the time being. They were coming in from both ends, so we had no choice but to split up. He ran towards the back to stop the heavier attack. I downed three droids and took a shot here in the hip from a fourth that I barely managed to fight off, so by the time I made it to the back to help him, I wasn't going to be of much use.

"When I saw him at the end of the corridor, he was heavily overwhelmed. There must have been ten of them at least. I was making my way to him, but slowly. I could barely stand at that point. He saw me, and the look in his eyes was something I had never seen in him before. He knew that it was just him between these pirates and the lives of those children, and that he was damned if they were going to get past the last set of blast doors.

"It happened so quickly. I saw what he was going to do, and I tried to reach him, but he had already engaged the door. He tried to push me back with the Force, but a bolt hit him and the push fell short, so I stumbled and my hand fell on the lower half of the closing door."

He was shaking now. The memory, embedded forever in the Unifying Force, pulled at him, threatening to tear his insides apart as the deathly cold vacuum of space closed around him, Kru, the children, and Mal—whose warm, strong hands were kneading his neck and easing him into an embrace. His story tumbled out of him on its own momentum, lost as he always was in these instances.

"They fell on him like a pack of wild animals, but I saw him hit the button on the airlock before he was down. There was a huge rush of air that sucked my hand the rest of the way into the door before it sealed, and through that crack, I saw all of them pulled out into space before it closed on my hand.

"I don't remember the pain. I was in too much shock from what had happened to really register what was happening, I think. There was no salvaging my hand. It was completely crushed, but I was bleeding a lot and we were dead meat floating out in space like that, so I cut off the rest with my saber to free myself and cauterize the wound. By some miracle, the hyperdrive was still functional and I engaged the autopilot.

"The next thing I remember was waking up in the Healer's Ward a week later," Obi-Wan finished, feeling empty and numb. "The children don't remember any of it."

He slowly realized he laying on the bed with his face pressed into Mal's hip, and that the younger padawan was lightly stroking his hair as he had the previous night. The gesture had the same soothing affect as before, helping to ease his breathing and his spirits.

Mal let him stay like that for a long time, awkwardly half-draped over the him, until the memory retreated and he could sit up.

"We should postpone the sparring lesson until tomorrow," Mal said finally.

"To say the least," he snorted, then yawned. "Thanks for listening. I can't believe how much that took out of me."

He was surprised at how drained he was, and yet, much calmer. The Force was quiet now, buoying him in a comforting sense of balance that he had not realized he was missing. Obi-Wan was content in the Moment.

Mal smiled. "Thank you for sharing with me. We live hard lives, sometimes more difficult than usual. It must be painful when you remember it."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked sleepily.

"I mean having the memory of a traumatic event to relive. It must be awful."

Obi-Wan frowned. "And you don't?"

"You know how I was abducted and ended up on Baltimn. Master Xanatos told me it was included in Master Jinn's story."

"He did mention something, yes. You mean you don't remember any of what happened to you?"

"No, thank the Force. And I don't want to. I'd be pretty fucked up about it, I'm sure."

"I definitely do not recommend getting fucked up about things," Obi-Wan agreed, stretching back out on his mattress. "I've had enough of past trauma. How about some more kissing?"

They lay together without speaking in Obi-Wan's small bed, content to doze in each other's arms. Occasionally, one of them would break the stillness with a sigh, or by pressing a kiss into whatever part of the other was closest. One thing Obi-Wan missed about having a new lover was discovering all of their likes and dislikes in bed. It was exhilarating to slip his hands beneath the rough brown tunics to feel the soft, balmy skin underneath. He loved to map a new body and find all the little erogenous zones that were so different from his own. In addition to the sensitive skin at the base of his horns, Mal had a spot behind his ear that, when Obi-Wan kissed and licked it, made his eyes flutter shut and a lazy smile appear on his lips.

For his part, Mal's hands never stopped their meandering exploration of Obi-Wan's shoulders, down delicate skin of his inner arms to his hips, and up his belly until he was disheveled and tingling with arousal. Obi-Wan had no complaints. It was nothing short of bliss to be touched like this again. Each feather-light pass woke new nerve endings, making him shiver down to his toes.

Obi-Wan liked this part with new lovers the most. The newfound closeness had yet to settle into familiarity or even true intimacy. Now was the time for both of them to simply bask in the rediscovered joy of another's skin.

They were lying on their sides, face to face. Mal hummed in appreciation with each pass Obi-Wan finger along his horns. This time, he caught the string of blue padawan beads lying in sharp contrast against Mal's neck, tracing the elegant line and letting it fall through his fingers like water.

Still feeling muzzy from the dozing and petting, Obi-Wan broached a subject that had been sitting in the back of his thoughts all afternoon.

"I wish you had told me you were a virgin," he said.

Mal sat up with a jolt. "Is it that obvious?"

The other padawan was immediately tense. Stupid! Obi-Wan mentally kicked himself for his poor wording. Newfound balance or no, Mal always made him forget all the diplomacy his years of training had taught him.

"Not at first, no," he said. "I just wish I had known."

"Why does it matter? Was I awful?"

"Hey," he sat up and cupped Mal's face in his hands so that the younger man had no choice but to face him. Obi-Wan lowered his shields, gently nudging Mal's until they too lowered minutely. He seized the opportunity to send Mal all his remorse, desire, and gratitude. "Last night was great, and it matters because you deserve better than a quick hump on a stack of mats."

Mal blushed. "It wasn't as bad as all that--not that I have any point of reference."

Obi-Wan kissed him, softly at first as they had early, and then with more urgency until they were pressed hotly together. "It'll be better next time."

"I like this next time business," Mal mumbled into his mouth. "I hope it happens soon."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "It can happen right now if you want."

"I want."

Never let it be said that Mal Farol is not resilient, Obi-Wan thought. He would have said it out loud, if his mouth and most of his brain wasn't preoccupied with the other padawan's insistent tongue. In truth, his own libido was rising eagerly to the challenge. He wanted sex, not more of the slow, careful seduction they had been doing so far. He needed a good fucking, finally, and now was hugely preferable to later.

Mal seemed to agree, if the way he was fumbling at Obi-Wan's tunic was any indication. He may have been new to this, but he certainly didn't lack enthusiasm. They were so rumpled from their earlier explorations that it was easier just to pull the whole mess off over their heads and toss them onto the floor.

Their boots and leggings joined their tunics until they were sitting in only their unders. With a smile, Obi-Wan swung his leg over to straddle Mal's thighs, enjoying the view beneath him. Mal was broad and muscular and thoroughly masculine, but it was his expression that excited Obi-Wan. Mal's face was flushed and expectant. He looked so young, though Obi-Wan knew that was no marker for experience.

This is perhaps the last bit of innocence Mad had, and he chose to give it to Obi-Wan.

He had always been the less experienced one, more shy and willing to be positioned and taught. The realization that he was Mal's first was exhilarating, and yet Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt that he had lost control last night and had finished them both off too quickly. Their first time together had been shy and then desperate, tinged with their separate insecurity and fear of what was lurking in the future.

Half-hidden as he had been in the darkness and streaks of pale light in the meditation room, Mal had seemed so much bigger, older, and more intimidating—or at least that was what Obi-Wan wanted to believe. He had wanted to be swept up again by someone worldly and dashing, but instead found someone much like him.

"Obi-Wan?" Mal's hands settled lightly on his thighs. "Are you all right?"

"I'm great," he replied, capturing one hand to press a kiss into its palm. He found he hated to see that worried expression flit across Mal's features and wanted to banish it as quickly as possible.

Obi-Wan rolled easily back on his side and covered Mal's mouth with his. In an instant, their arms were around each other. There was nothing soft or shy about their kisses this time. Instead, they grew increasingly heated with each passing moment until, with limbs entwined, Obi-Wan's senses were filled to bursting with the smell, the taste, and the sound of his lover.

When his arm snaked between them to take Mal's hand, he noticed that it was trembling. He brought to up to his mouth and latched on to the sensitive spot where his thumb and wrist met.
Mal let out a gasp that made his whole body convulse. "I don't know why I'm so nervous," he whispered.

"It's okay," Obi-Wan soothed, between light nips and kisses along Mal's wrist. "It's normal. It'll be easier if I'm on top."

"Oh," Mal's pulse quickened beneath his lips. "Okay. Just--just go slow."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Well of course I will, it's not like--" He paused at Mal's barely-concealed trepidation, and then chuckled gently. "No, I mean if I sit on top of you when you're in me."

"Oh," realization dawned. "I thought you meant...Okay."

He really was adorable when he was flustered. Obi-Wan ran his tongue along that sensitive spot behind Mal's ear, making his breath catch.

"Good, because I can't wait to feel your cock in me," Obi-Wan punctuated his statement with a delicious thrust that brought his straining erection firmly against Mal's. He felt the other padawan's groan reverberate down through his chest. His cock leapt as if fighting to escape its confines.

In one swift motion, Obi-Wan pushed his unders down past his ankles and rolled onto his stomach. A bottle of lotion flew into his hand with a touch of the Force, which he handed to Mal. "Here."

Mal knelt between Obi-Wan's thighs, bottle in hand. "I don't know what to do."

"Use your fingers. Go slow."

Obi-Wan heard the bottle cap open, and then close, and felt Mal's weight shift behind him. The anticipation was making his cock throb almost painfully, but he managed to not grind into the sheets. Fingers, cool and wet, touched him ever so lightly between his cheeks. Though he wanted nothing more than for Mal to plunge into him and fuck him into the mattress, he knew that going slow was for the best.

"Harder," he hissed in encouragement, lifting his hips up off the bed to provide better access as well as to hold onto his last shreds of self control. Sweat pooled at the backs of his knees and between his shoulder blades.

Mal began circling his opening, exciting the sensitive tissue. By the tiniest increments, he eased in the tip of one finger, rocking it in and out of Obi-Wan's body until he was taut as a bowstring. It felt incredible and erotic and wonderful, but it wasn't nearly enough.

"More," he panted, pushing himself back onto Mal's hand until it was buried as deeply as it could go. "Use two fingers."

"Like this?" There was now a hint of joy in Mal's voice as he saw the affect he had on Obi-Wan. He slowly withdrew his hand, much to Obi-Wan's protest, before another finger joined the first, and Obi-Wan felt the first real stretch of penetration. He groaned loudly, clenching the pillow to him and biting down hard on his lip in attempt to hold onto the last of his fading composure.

He felt hot breath and hotter lips graze his coccyx, making him moan. "You look amazing, do you know that?" Mal murmured into his skin, following it with an experimental twist of his fingers that grazed him just there.

A rush of sensation crashed into him, surging up his spine and sparking out any thought he may have had left. With a growl, Obi-Wan pushed Mal onto his back. He scrambled on top of him and reached behind to position Mal at his slicked opening. He was significantly thicker than his two fingers. Obi-Wan shuddered in anticipating, feeling Mal's pulse throbbing hotly in his hand. "Force, Mal," he whispered.

Their shields were still lowered just a crack, and for reasons that Obi-Wan could not begin to explain, he reached further into Mal. Surprisingly, Mal not only allowed the intrusion, but extended his own awareness into Obi-Wan, easing in as slowly and steadily Obi-Wan's body accepted Mal's.

When he was firmly settled on Mal's lap, he let out a sigh, feeling long-forgotten synapses reconnecting. He clenched reflexively around Mal's girth, eliciting a gasp from them both. He focused on the stretch and the fullness, willing his body to relax. He could feel the tension in Mal's thighs and stomach that belied his struggle to hold still and not hurt him.

Obi-Wan ran his palm over the slick chest beneath him. "Hey, you okay?"

Mal looked at him with darkened eyes, managing a nod. "Are you?" he rasped.

"Yeah." To demonstrate, Obi-Wan tugged at Mal's legs until he brought his knees up. Obi-Wan shifted his weight and groan as Mal slid out of him a little. Then he began to rock his hips. He was a little rusty with the movement, but soon found a rhythm and angle that made him see stars with each rise and fall of his hips, letting his weight pull him firming down with a frenetic whap, whap, whap. Mal's cock stretched him just to this side of pain, and in the back of his mind he knew he should be gentler on his body, but the feel of it inside him sent liquid fire pulsing under his skin and all he wanted was more, more.

Everything else faded away as his focus honed in tightly on his growing desperation. There was nothing but Mal's turgid flesh in his ass, the exquisite ache in his cock and balls, the heat and the sweat. Mal surged upward with an agonized groan, driving himself deep into Obi-Wan and making him pitch forward. This time there was no sign of restraint or caution; wet tongues and teeth and lips collided and yielded to the pounding that drove Obi-Wan tumbling down into Mal's eager mouth.

The tenuous link between them seemed to latch onto something primal buried deep in the brain stem, sending out tendrils and tentacles like an aggressive vine, fusing them together in mind as well as body. Obi-Wan felt every neuron firing between them, every heartbeat magnified and echoed until he thought he would explode.

It was too much. Blood boiled in his ears and all he could hear over the sound of his own escalating pulse was his pitched breathing—or he must have heard it, but mostly he felt his ribs heave and his throat burn. Each gasp was jolted out of him by Mal's thrusts, too short and colored with some needy sound that rose up from the pit of his stomach. He knew his eyes were open, but all he saw was a blur of light and flesh as his body and mind were buffeted by the onslaught.

When Obi-Wan thought he could stand it no longer, and he was sure little bits of him had already flown off in his frenzy, his orgasm swept through him with such force that his senses were consumed by sudden whiteness that blocked out all sight and sound. For a moment that felt like an eon, all he knew was the endless seizing of his body and the flood pounding into him from Mal's own release. It was a star going super nova. It was everything and nothing shrinking and expanding in the core of his chest like the birth of the universe. It was the pure Force surging through every pore on his body until he was filled to bursting.

He must have screamed. All Obi-Wan knew was that when he came back to himself, he was somehow slumped against the wall with Mal trapped beneath him in a gasping heap.

He managed to slide onto the bed without falling, something he considered a minor miracle given the trembling in his legs. He laid half on top of Mal, panting heavily and relishing the last fading flashes of orgasm. At last, he rolled to one side so that they were barely touching to let the air cool them.

Mal hadn't moved. With his eyes half-closed, his fingers reached out to entwine with Obi-Wan's. "Wow," he breathed.

Obi-Wan laughed weakly. "Yeah."

He was cooling, but every part of him felt melted into the bed. A shower and dinner could wait until after a nap. Mal seemed to agree, judging from the way the rise and fall of his chest had slowed to a soft, steady rhythm.

"We need to talk," Obi-Wan said.

"Yeah."

He yawned. "Later."

Obi-Wan's mind felt fuzzy and raw, not surprising since he had never lowered his shields during sex before. He felt the faint tickle of a thought that wasn't his, heavy with fatigue and satisfaction, but too quiet to fully register.

/Mind your shielding/ he sent.

The tickle subsided. /You too./

Obi-Wan smiled and readjusted his shields. The whispers faded, but the fuzziness remained. He'd give it some time. His mind needed to recollect itself as much as his body. If Garen was around, he'd never hear the end of it, which he didn't really mind actually.

Sleep crept over them. Beneath their perfect stillness lay their beating pulses; blood coursed through their veins, gently heating their bodies, lulling each other into sleep, comforted in each other's presence and pulling them back toward each other until at last they laid entwined in Obi-Wan's small bed.