Summary: Sequel to Recognition - How do Obi-Wan's Master and
Qui-Gon's former Master feel about this relationship? Where
will it go?
Feedback: You bet, oh please... njtucker@yahoo.com
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood to one side of the practice mat and
yawned. He was watching a Master/Padawan team, interesting
because it was a human--Paradon mix, two arms against six,
speed and dexterity over talent and tenacity. Very interesting.
He yawned again, his eyes watching the sparring, his mind
entirely elsewhere. His arms were folded, one hip out, legs
apart. Legs apart actually, because this morning's sex had been
just a bit rougher than the night before, and frankly, his ass
was sore.
He couldn't wait to do it again.
Just thinking about Qui-Gon Jinn made his toes curl. He didn't
know what made him follow the Jedi Master into the back of the
Council Gardens the day before. Something strong had pulled
him, tethered him, to the tall figure. Qui-Gon's hair blew in
the breeze and he had wanted to run his fingers through it. The
dark brown robe wrapped against his leg and he'd simultaneously
wanted to be wrapped in it and tear it off the big man.
Hopeless. He was definitely hopeless after one look into deep
blue eyes.
He stood and watched as Qui-Gon greeted his Joxtrepia bush, and
heard the soft tones of respect and awe and had to have that
voice, that mouth. . .
And it had happened. Like the deep Temple bell chiming in his
soul. He had been turned inside out, upside down, forever
changed because a stranger smiled at him. If the Master had
told him to jump off the roof he would probably have done it,
because he knew he would not be allowed to fall.
Obi-Wan rubbed one hand over the back of his neck, which
tickled a little. He wasn't sure what was happening to him, but
he WAS sure that it was right and good, and he hoped to the
gods on 121 worlds that Qui-Gon Jinn was feeling something
similar.
Qui-Gon Jinn entered the training area and silently joined a
small group of Masters who were watching over their Padawans'
activities. Similar groups, largely depending on the ages and
skill levels of the Padawans, ranged around the huge room.
Qui-Gon, all serene Jedi, his arms tucked into his robe
sleeves, went to stand next to Master Sampris.
Master Sam glanced at him. "Qui."
"Sam."
They stood behind the padawan group of which Obi-Wan was a
member. Qui-Gon could see that Obi-Wan was yawning, and one
side of his mouth went up. He said quietly to Sam, "How far
along is he?"
"He'll take 15th level next week," Sam told him. "If he's not
worn out."
"Angry, Sam?"
"No. He's a grown man, he makes his own choices about his
companions. If any Master, I'd rather it be you." Sampris kept
his eyes on the sparring. "Just make sure his training isn't
compromised again."
Qui-Gon nodded. He was watching Sam's padawan, staring really,
and Obi-Wan scratched the back of his neck. Qui-Gon blinked and
lowered his eyes. "Believe me, my friend, it is the will of the
Force. I didn't want this, don't need this, but I can't seem to
stop it."
"Pretty much what Obi-Wan told us at breakfast."
The sparring had come to an end. Sam started to move away, then
turned back. "I know you would never do anything to hurt my
padawan. Don't let him break your heart, Qui."
He went on his way to Obi-Wan's side, pointing out the useful
techniques in the sparring display. Qui-Gon turned and left the
practice room.
Qui-Gon's next stop was a small, nondescript door on one of the
upper levels. He stood in front of it, not bothering to knock,
and in brief seconds it opened.
It was literally walking into a swamp. Only the huge manga
trees were missing. It was hot and wet and muddy. Yoda's room,
and Qui-Gon's feet were sure on the tricky path because this
was his former Master's chamber and he had essentially grown up
here. He was chosen at an early age, and raised under the
all-knowing eyes -- well, over the all-knowing eyes -- of
Master Yoda. He had learned his political skills in the Council
rooms, and his lightsaber technique in this swamp. He loved his
Master, and after all these years, he still needed his
approval.
Yoda was sitting on a log, ears up, eyes softening at the site
of his former apprentice. "Missed you at the reception, I did."
"You were late." Qui-Gon folded himself on the ground (which
covered a priceless marble floor) and leaned back against the
log.
"Also missed young Kenobi, I did." Trust Yoda to come straight
to the point.
"Yes," he answered the unspoken question.
"Strong in the Force, he is," Yoda stretched a little. "Walks
in the light, he does."
Qui-Gon said, "In two weeks he goes his way and I go mine. It
will be at least four years before he takes his trials and has
his choice of what he wants to do with his life. I don't mind
about that. But we are already establishing a link. I don't
want to do anything to interfere with Master Sampris's
training. What do you see, my Master?" He hesitated, then
asked, "Is it best for Obi-Wan for me to step back now?"
He felt the fingers he was used to on his hair, soothing,
stroking, and closed his eyes. How many times had they sat like
this while Yoda helped him solve a problem? His Master was
iracsible, short tempered and blunt, but with his padawan he
seemed to have unending patience, love, an ever-growing
fountain of strength and warmth.
Yoda said, "Forge the link as it comes, you will. To deny the
Force can only lead to the Dark side, my Padawan. Now," the
hand left his head. "To lunch you will take me. Hungry, I am.
Legs too long, you have. Eat enough, you do not. Log getting
lumpy, it is."
Qui-Gon grinned. His legs were always too long, Yoda was
constantly hungry, and that log had been getting lumpy for at
least twenty years. Some things never changed.
Obi-Wan spent a frustrating day, trying to keep his eyes open,
making mistakes, and finally, at Master Sampris's exasperated
command, taking a nap. This thrilled Eli, who thought it was
wonderful that his favorite non-parent shared a room with him
to sleep in the daylight.
When he awoke, the sun was setting and his stomach was
growling. His Master stood in the doorway, smiling a little.
"Feeling better?"
Obi-Wan rubbed his hands over his face, and shook his head, "I
think so. Yes, Master."
Sampris nodded. "You have a message on you compad."
That woke him up. Sam tossed it to him and he caught it,
one-handed. The message was short. 'Early dinner? First
serving. Qui-Gon'
Obi-Wan blinked, then looked at his Master, some confusion on
his face. "The Dining Hall?"
Sam asked mildly, "Would you rather be secreted away like you
were ashamed of each other? Qui-Gon seems to have perfectly
good table manners."
Well, he wouldn't mind being secreted away. . .but he certainly
had nothing to be ashamed about with Qui-Gon. And he couldn't
have cared less if Qui-Gon ate Bantha meat raw and threw the
bones over his shoulder.
Master Sam read his thoughts. "Then you'd better get dressed,
Padawan."
"Yes, Master."
"Will you be back here tonight?"
"No, Master."
"No more repeats of today's incompetency."
"No, Master."
Sam turned away to pick up his son. "Did you know that Qui-Gon
Jinn deserves all the respect and regard and legend that is
given him?"
"I'm learning, Master."
The Dining Hall was less crowded at this time, as many Masters
and Padawans were still working. Obi-Wan was just through his
food line when he felt the presence beside him. Qui-Gon's voice
was soft, "Hello, Obi-Wan."
"Master Jinn." His tone was formal, but the look he gave the
Master out the corner of his eye was hot.
There was a flicker of response, but Qui-Gon said only,
"Somewhere in no man's land?"
Obi-Wan nodded and followed him to the area that wasn't quite
Masters' tables, and not quite Padawans' tables. Qui-Gon set
his tray down and Obi-Wan was a little disappointed to see
there was no Bantha meat on it. They ended up facing each
other, not saying anything. Obi-Wan was starving, Qui-Gon was
enjoying watching him eat.
Quietly, subtly, the link re-established itself, a strand here
and there, not gone before, just resting, newborn, now waking.
Obi-Wan looked up as Qui-Gon's voice sounded in his head,
similar to Master Sampris, but as if it was on another channel.
I had a talk with your Master today.
Obi-Wan tested and found the link to be strengthening. He tried
it. Oh?
Fifteenth level. Very good.
Not passed yet.
You will.
It was thought with such assurance that Obi-Wan began to
believe it, too. What else did my Master say?
He told me to get you to bed early.
That should not be a problem, Master Jinn.
Qui-Gon's eyes crinkled a little. He picked up his fork and
began to eat. He also told me not to let you break my
heart.
Considered. I would agree with that.
Obi-Wan's looked up and met Qui-Gon's eyes. Instantly the world
faded and they were alone in the crowd. Obi-Wan felt a swirl of
Force enter him, as if he had been stabbed with light,
incandescent, joyful. Those eyes, boring into him. Midnight
blue, full of strength, intelligence, serenity, love. Qui-Gon's
voice: My Obi-Wan.
Breathless: Yes.
Then Qui-Gon smiled and blinked and the room came back with the
sound of voices, dishes clattering, laughter. No one seemed to
have noticed. Obi-Wan looked around swiftly. How could that be?
He was tingling with Force, felt as if he must be shining. But
they were ignored, and thank the gods, no one was starring at
them. He didn't care if the Jedi Sentinel published their
affair -- this one moment was theirs alone.
Qui-Gon had gone back to eating, as if nothing had happened.
Obi-Wan couldn't touch another bite.
"Obi!" The little bundle that was Eli came charging up, and
Obi-Wan turned in time to catch him when he launched himself
forward. He tried to say something, but his breath was still
caught in his throat.
Eli was followed by his father, who was smiling indulgently at
the boy. Eli had burrowed under Obi-Wan's robe again, and they
went into their special game of peekaboo. Master Sampris said
to Qui-Gon, "Alright?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Sam, everything is fine."
Obi-Wan glanced up, grinning. "Absolutely."
His Master nodded. "Give me the brat then, Eli says there's
biscuits tonight. Don't want to miss my share."
They went off and for a minute the lovers were alone, then the
tell-tale sound of a stick tapping the floor could be heard.
Obi-Wan stood in respect to Master Yoda, who used Force to
bring over an empty chair and climb into it. Qui-Gon was used
to being near this venerable old creature, but Obi-Wan was
awestruck. Yoda at his table?
Yoda looked at his former apprentice. "Bond strengthens, it
does."
Qui-Gon picked up his glass and held it in both hands,
considering the liquid. "Yes, my Master."
Yoda nodded thoughtfully. He turned to Obi-Wan, who was still
staring. "Eating, you are not. Food bad?"
One green hand reached out, faster than the normal eye could
see, and swiped a venturb off the plate, popping it into his
mouth. "Food not bad.."
Obi-Wan's eyes fell to Qui-Gon's plate where his lover had
carefully separated out several of his own venturbs, moving
them to the side of the plate.
Yoda continued, "Too skinny, Qui-Gon is."
Obi-Wan blinked. The venturbs were disappearing, one by one,
and Yoda was chewing. He looked back and forth between Yoda and
his former Padawan and belatedly answered the statement. "I'm
sure Master Jinn is a very busy man." As he spoke, he shoved
his ventrubs to the edge of his plate. Remarkably, they began
disappearing as well.
Yoda said, "Too long legs he has. Nobody here fat. Nobody here
little and green. Too bad, this is." He looked mournful, but
the venturbs were going, one by one.
Obi-Wan caught a rush of amusement from Qui-Gon and relaxed a
little. For the first time he wondered why Yoda was the only
one of his kind at the Temple.
Qui-Gon's venturbs were gone, and his own had been eaten as
well. Yoda finished chewing, swallowed and beamed at them, his
ears up. "Good Padawan, you are," he told Obi-Wan. "Better you
must be. Been alone too long, he has. Needs a partner, he
does." Yoda nodded. "You remember. Tasks boring, levels hard,
they seem. Living the Code harder. Now you have greater
reason."
Yoda slid off the chair, and sent it back to its original place
moving one finger. "Go now, I must. Food lines getting long,
they are."
The stick tapped and he was on his way, grumbling under his
breath, "Venturbs too bland. Speak with cook, I must. Whole
galaxy we have, and not enough spices."
Obi-Wan watched him go, then noticed that now they were
definitely the center of attention. The Padawan who loved
Qui-Gon's hands gave him a significant look, and the students
were buzzing with speculation. He could imagine it. The great
Qui-Gon Jinn and a lowly apprentice, whose Master had just
tacitly given permission, and Yoda. . .
Qui-Gon was watching him, waiting.
"Yoda did that on purpose, didn't he?"
"Yes."
Obi-Wan noted that somehow his plate was clean. "I seem to be
finished here."
"Myself as well." They looked at each other and both began to
laugh.
Qui-Gon rose. "Dessert?"
Obi-Wan got up. "Yes, definitely."
Without another word they left the Dining Hall.
Qui-Gon entered the bedroom with a small tray. It held two
oddly shaped glasses, both containing a dark green liquid. He
paused, just taking in the sight. Obi-Wan, who seemed to enjoy
being without any clothes whatsoever, was laying on his side,
head resting on one elbow, top leg bent forward. His eyes were
smiling at Qui-Gon, lazily, and they had that smoky look again.
Qui-Gon set the tray on the bedside cabinet, slipped out of his
robe and folded onto the bed beside him. For a moment he closed
his eyes, replaying the last hour. He wasn't quite sure how
they had made it all the way back to his rooms. They barely
made it inside the door before their arms were around each
other, their mouths hungry. He had wanted to go to the bedroom,
Obi-Wan had instead pulled him to the sofa, already undressing
him, hands urgent. It was ungraceful, but compelling, and the
sex was hot and rapid and very, very good.
He opened his eyes. Obi-Wan was raining kisses on his knee,
working down toward his feet. Qui-Gon said, "Obi-Wan, come
here."
Instantly Obi-Wan was sitting beside him, laughing a little. "I
haven't tasted all of you yet," he protested mildly. He put up
one hand and ran a finger over Qui-Gon's lips. "I told you I
love your mouth, didn't I? And I do. You barely move your mouth
and all your thoughts are there."
The finger left his lower lip reluctantly and went to the
corner of his left eye. "Even more, I love these lines. You've
spent too many years squinting into too many suns, I think. But
these are laugh lines. You enjoy your life and it has meaning.
And I'm getting maudlin."
"That's quite all right. Do keep going."
"No, I don't mind the GREAT Qui-Gon Jinn. The Master Jinn who
thinks he's MAGNIFICENT would be unbearable."
"Well then, here," Qui-Gon handed him the glass of green
liquid.
Obi-Wan sniffed. "It smells like. . .rich."
"Aldaran wine," Qui-Gon took a sip of his own and shut his eyes
briefly to savor the taste. "It's two parted -- see? The
glasses are made so the first part lies down the stems, and the
second part is poured on top. When you tip the glass, the two
parts mix. Try it."
Obi-Wan tipped his glass and took a mouthful, tasting,
enjoying. "This is very good. I never saw this on Aldaran."
"That's probably because its alcohol content is quite high. Sam
was keeping you safe."
Obi-Wan had finished his two swallows worth and held out his
glass for more.
"No, that's all you get. It's all I get." Qui-Gon finished his
own and put their glasses on the tray. He stretched out,
feeling the drink curl through his stomach, warm and relaxing,
going into his bloodstream. His eyes were half open, gazing at
his young lover. Obi-Wan was completely unselfconscious, head
tilted to one side, breathing slow, concentrating on the
sensations the drink was providing.
Qui-Gon?
I'm here.
Are you trying to get me drunk?
No
Why not?
Qui-Gon reached out a hand and trailed his fingers from cheek,
down the neck and over Obi-Wan's chest. Why would I want you
drunk?
Light eyes that seemed blue this night laughed at him. So
you could have your wicked way with me? There was a hopeful
sound to this thought.
"No," Qui-Gon's hand went flat against the Padawan's heart. "I
want you with me and all your senses intact."
Obi-Wan's hands covered the large fingers pressed against him.
His heartbeat was picking up speed.
Qui-Gon lifted his hand. "You need your rest, Padawan. It's
time to sleep."
Obi-Wan stretched himself out next to the larger man. "I'll
sleep. In a little while."
He bent his head and kissed Qui-Gon, gently, then his tongue
rubbed along full lips until the Master's mouth opened, letting
him in. He tangled his hands in long hair, pushed it away from
Qui-Gon's ears and moved his mouth along the cheek to one lobe,
sucking on it briefly, then using his tongue to explore every
hill and valley of cartilage, delving inside, only to have
Qui-Gon turn his head away. Large hands came up to capture his
face, bringing lips to lips again.
Against his mouth, Qui-Gon whispered, "Let me taste you."
Obi-Wan came closer. He was breathing faster, his cock already
hard against Qui-Gon's hip. Laying half-way across the larger
man, hands still entangled in his hair, he said softly,
"Anything. Anything."
The kiss was long, soft, until Obi-Wan made it harder. He had
one hand over Qui-Gon's nipple, rubbing the nub with his palm,
riding the squirm of the body beneath him. His hand slipped
along the lean flank, to hip and down. Qui-Gon rolled him over,
repositioning himself, each head to groin. Obi-Wan found this
new stance intriguing, and when Qui-Gon took his cock deeply
into his mouth, his hips surged forward, silently begging for
more.
He didn't want to divide his concentration, the sensations of
Qui-Gon's tongue on him, teeth grazing lightly, were
incredible; but the large erection he saw was too tempting. The
touch was velvet over hardness, like Qui-Gon's voice, the way
he moved. Qui-Gon shifted his legs, allowing better access, and
Obi-Wan guided the shaft to his lips. He was being sucked, in
and out and in, and his breath was leaving his body, and he was
nuzzling the shaft in his mouth, copying the action, lost in
all of it, wanting more and more. He felt a tendril of that
which was Qui-Gon slipping along their newborn path and opened
wide to it. All his own senses, those of the older man, blurred
together -- the feel of Qui-Gon's arms around his hips, the
suck of mouth over him, riding his thrusting hips; his own
blood lust, matching the Master's beat for beat, burying his
face in soft pubic hair, holding the large tightening sac -- or
was he being held? It wound, and he knew Qui-Gon's need for him
matched his own need for Qui-Gon. It wound, and the spiral was
perfect, no strand out of place. . .and he was thrusting, and
Qui-Gon was thrusting, and someone was humming low in his
throat as climax hit him hard.
He was being held, sucked dry, savored, allowed to relax, while
he continued to rub Qui-Gon's erection over his face, loving
the feel of it. Qui-Gon lifted and turned, and Obi-Wan reached
for him, bereft for the silky hardness. Instead he was gathered
up, still mostly boneless, as Qui-Gon sat up, folding his legs.
Obi-Wan was straddled around him, being kissed, and that
hardness was pressing against his anus, asking permission.
Caught in the wash of his own release, it was easy to relax,
and the cock slid into him, familiar now, better than before.
Qui-Gon was kissing him deeply, and arms held him tight as he
rose and fell in short strokes. Then the kiss broke and Qui-Gon
buried his face in Obi-Wan's neck, sucking hard, burying the
growl as his whole body stiffened. Obi-Wan clasped him closer.
Qui-Gon was shuddering, still jerking inside him, breath
ragged. Obi-Wan's hands went to his lover's head, lifting it,
kissed sweating cheeks, (sweat or tears?), kissed his eyes, his
nose, licked at open lips. My Qui-Gon.
Breathless. Yes.
Pre-dawn, light barely perceptible. Qui-Gon Jinn watched his
lover sleep, curled around him, one hand resting on his chest
by his head. He held Obi-Wan loosely, gently stroking his back
He knew now that it didn't matter what Sampris said, or what
Yoda told him. It was well that they had both agreed to this
relationship, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except
this young man, always by his side, as he was now, as he had
been at dinner, in every way. Living in this moment. Looking at
last for a future.
All they had was less than two weeks. The bond between them was
strengthening, but it was not enough time. It would have to be
enough. He would make it enough. Qui-Gon's hands tightened on
his lover's back and Obi-Wan murmured, rubbing the side of his
face over Qui-Gon's chest, resettling.
Qui-Gon kissed the top of his head, smiled at bit, and shut his
eyes.
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