by Vermillion Flame (Vermillion_Flame@hotmail.com)
Archive: Yes to m_a, anyone else please just ask first
Series: Sequel to Demanding Honesty. It will be more meaningful
if you've read the first story.
Category: first-times, romance, angst
Rating: NC 17
Summary: The events of the day following Demanding Honesty.
After Qui-Gon is honest about his feelings for Obi-Wan, the
apprentice must dig deep to discover his own true feelings.
(Cameo appearance by Sleepy!Obi.)
Feedback: Yes, please! I'm still very new to writing fic of any
kind, so I find I suffer from the Sally Fields Insecurity
Syndrome (SFIS). Your feedback would be savored.
Disclaimer: The characters herein belong to Lucasfilm, no
copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Champagne and Jedi for Y2K eve go to my beta readers,
who provided excellent comments, and hopefully got Obi-Wan
prone on the bed using the correct term. Thank you muchly,
michelle, Amber and my poor overworked Padawan Calypte.
Plot Nudge: In the first story, Obi-Wan confronts Qui-Gon after
receiving only criticism despite his excellent performance of
duties. Qui-Gon admits his fear of eventual separation from
Obi-Wan. Hot first-time sex ensues. (Go read it, you'll like
it!)
Obi-Wan awoke, slowly.
"...Mmmnph." He curled his naked limbs into a tight ball,
snuggling into the blankets. 'Warm. Lovely,' he decided.
He worked hard to sink back into the thickness of slumber, and
managed to doze lightly for a few minutes, but the persistent
beat of reality kept tapping on his brain.
He finally admitted to himself that it may actually be morning.
'Time is it?' he thought, prying one eye open just far enough
to peek at the table beside the bed. 'Not there. Where's my
chrono?'
He turned his head to look in the opposite direction, feeling
disoriented now. 'Not my bed,' he blearily surmised. 'Big bed.
Qui-Gon's bed? QUI-GON'S BED!'
His eyes flew open as the events of the previous evening
flooded back into his consciousness. He reached his hand out to
the empty space next to him. The sheets were cold. Damn. Oh
well, his master had always been an early riser. Maybe that was
why he didn't have a bedside chrono.
He rolled over onto his back and took a luxurious full morning
stretch. A smile grew from his thoughts, which were replaying
some of last night's more stellar moments. His body remembered,
too, and responded enthusiastically to the mental vignettes.
'Not now!' Obi-Wan reprimanded himself, trying to quash his
arousal. After his efforts yesterday in asserting his maturity,
he certainly did not want to make a morning appearance looking
like a randy teenager. He made a determined effort to control
his passionate streak, but his body had other intentions.
'Think of something asexual,' he counseled himself.
'Master Yoda.' That was certainly a safe topic. 'My master's
master. Such an unlikely pair.' He envisioned Qui-Gon and Yoda
walking down the hallway together, one small and wizened, the
other tall, muscular, strong....
"Stop it! No, no, no!" he scolded aloud. Afraid Qui-Gon had
heard, he slammed the pillow over his face and 'Arrrghed' into
it.
'Master Yoda's ears!' That was better.
'The hair in Master Yoda's ears. Uggh.' Success at last.
Flaccidity was restored.
Obi-Wan dimly became aware of kitchen noises coming from the
other side of the quarters. Before his thoughts could once
again run rampant, he swung his legs off the bed, into his
leggings, and stood.
He had taken a few tottering steps toward the door to the
common room when he felt a wave of dizziness overtake him, and
realized he'd stood up too quickly. Unfortunately his master
heard him stirring, and chose that moment to send a mental
morning greeting. The light-headedness, combined with the
unaccustomed use of the training bond, sent Obi-Wan weaving his
way across the common room, looking like a padawan who'd had
too much Alderian brandy.
If his eyes had been open, Obi-Wan would have seen his master
smiling affectionately as he approached. When the apprentice
finally arrived at his intended destination, Qui-Gon pressed a
mug of hot tea into his expectant hands. The master placed his
palms on the sturdy shoulders, turned him about, and dropped a
kiss on top of his head before giving him a gentle push
forward.
'That's new,' Obi-Wan thought appreciatively of the kiss as he
sipped his tea and doggedly made his way to the fresher.
For years Qui-Gon had indulged his padawan in this prolonged
wake-up process when at home on Coruscant, even during the most
strained periods of their relationship. He knew that the
younger man's body had a greater physiological need for sleep
than his own. Obi-Wan had proven many times that when necessary
he could be instantly awake, saber in hand and ready to defend.
Content in that knowledge, Qui-Gon held his tongue on this
issue, secretly enjoying the sight of his padawan in his
befuddled state. The amusing thing was, Obi-Wan was too sleepy
to realize he was being cosseted by his master, or he would
have objected.
As the wickedly hot shower pulsed away Obi-Wan's brain fog,
additional events of the prior day began to trickle into his
consciousness. Again he felt stricken as he confronted the
likelihood of his eventual separation from Qui-Gon. It was as
if he were to be punished for his exceptionally fine skills.
'Work harder, Kenobi, so we can cut you off from your master
even earlier!' a figmentary Council member advised.
There must be a way for them to be more useful to the Jedi as a
team rather than separately. Surely nothing was inevitable. He
wanted to believe so, especially now that he and Qui-Gon had
found....
What exactly had they found? Neither of them had truly spoken
what was in their hearts last night. Obi-Wan wasn't sure he
even knew what that was.
The young man leaned his head against the shower wall, allowing
the hot spray to pound his shoulders. He could not put a label
on what he had felt while lying in Qui-Gon's arms. He'd spent
most of the last year trying to convince himself that his
master's opinion did not matter to him. Now, suddenly, that
opinion was the most important thing in the universe. He needed
time to think this through, to analyze his feelings. But first,
he knew, he needed to talk with Qui-Gon.
Having at least decided on a first step, Obi-Wan finished the
rest of his morning ritual, emerging from the fresher ready to
take on whatever the day would bring.
"Morning, Master," Obi-Wan said brightly as he headed for the
kitchen.
"Good morning." Qui-Gon marveled, as always, at the difference
between the young man who went into the fresher and the one who
came out. He wondered what happened in that little room to
cause such a transformation - surely more than a hot shower. He
continued eating as Obi-Wan began to root through the food
stores for his own breakfast.
The two men had long ago discovered they had vastly different
ideas of what constituted a decent morning meal, so each fixed
his own, and they only rarely ate together. The apprentice had
evidently found something to his liking because he sat down at
the table next to his master with a second cup of hot tea and a
handful of something on which he was munching. Qui-Gon tried
not to look at it. His own stomach tended to be a bit sensitive
this early in the day.
"Master," Obi-Wan began between mouthfuls.
"Yes, Padawan. We need to talk," Qui-Gon finished the thought
without looking directly at his apprentice. "Unfortunately, we
do not have the time just now to give this conversation the
attention it deserves. I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I
believe you have an exam this morning."
"I suppose you are right."
Qui-Gon peeked at his padawan's dejected expression, and
wrinkled his nose. "What is that smell?" He quickly reversed
himself. "No! Please don't tell me."
This was an old game between them, comforting to resume after a
long hiatus. "I'm sorry, Master. How impolite of me not to
offer! Would you like some Malorian ch...."
"No! No, I'm quite finished with my breakfast, thank you,"
Qui-Gon blurted out as he rose abruptly from the table and
headed to the kitchen to rinse his dishes.
Obi-Wan finished eating as he watched his master move
purposefully around the room, gathering the few things he would
need for his morning. As he headed toward the door, Obi-Wan
rose and stepped away from the table.
"Saber practice after midday meal?"
"Yes, of course. I'll see you then."
He turned to leave, but Obi-Wan couldn't bear for the previous
night to go virtually unacknowledged. It hurt.
"Is this the way it's going to be?"
Qui-Gon stopped and turned, tilting his head as he looked back
into his padawan's eyes. "What do you mean?"
"After last night, is this how it's going to be? Casual? Almost
as though nothing happened?"
After a moment's hesitation, the master strode across the room,
stopping before his apprentice. He spoke in a low voice. "No,
Obi-Wan. This is how it's going to be." He wrapped his
arms tightly around the younger man, bent down and delivered a
soul-searing, mind-bending kiss. It left the apprentice
gasping.
"Better?"
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan eked out.
Qui-Gon gave him a brief smile, then turned with a bit of a
dramatic swirl of his robe, and left.
Obi-Wan stood fixed to the spot near the table, feeling pleased
and frustrated at the same time. He really did not want to go
through the day without talking to Qui-Gon, but there was not
much he could do at this point except get ready for his own
morning schedule.
When Obi-Wan locked his mind onto a problem, it was almost
impossible for him to let go until he found a resolution. It
was no different with the issue of his changing relationship
with his master. As he walked through the hallways to his
advanced astrophysics class, he continually turned the subject
over in his mind. He was still focusing on it as he sat down at
the terminal to begin his exam. He was also vividly remembering
that kiss.
'What if I were not the 'perfect padawan?'' he conjectured.
'What if I were, say, to develop a need to repeat a class?' He
stared at the problems on the viewscreen. It would be simple
enough to do. If he made a small miscalculation in the angle of
projection, it would be compounded in subsequent figures,
resulting in an answer beyond the acceptable deviation. Just a
couple of such errors and he would fail the test.
He lifted the stylus, still staring but his eyes no longer
focused. Could he actually do this? Could he compromise his
integrity in an attempt to prolong his time with his master? He
felt as if he was enacting some theorem from his morality
class, only this was very real. Beads of sweat broke out on his
forehead. He felt ill.
"Are you unwell, Padawan?" The instructor was at Obi-Wan's
elbow, concern showing in her face.
The young man felt as though he might vomit. "Master, may I be
excused?"
"Of course, Obi-Wan. Perhaps you should go to the Healers."
He fled the room. As soon as he gained the hallway, Obi-Wan
collapsed against the cool stone wall, gulping deep breaths of
air. What was he thinking? He desperately needed time to come
to know his own mind. He gathered his strength and willed
himself toward his favorite meditation spot.
As he made his way to the gardens, he passed Master Yoda
approaching the Temple building. Obi-Wan nodded to him
distractedly, but did not speak. Yoda, however, called out
moments after they had passed.
"Padawan," Yoda began carefully, "are you ill?"
Obi-Wan turned, but remained where he stood. "Not ill, Master,
but troubled. I am on my way to the Xeric Gardens to meditate."
Yoda's gaze pierced him. "Well you should, Obi-Wan. A cloud
hangs about you this morning. See me you will, if you need to
talk?"
"Of course, Master Yoda. Thank you." Obi-Wan felt shame flush
his cheeks as he quickly turned down the walkway. Was he
exuding his emotions so plainly?
He arrived at his favorite low bench, settling in amongst the
plants he had come to admire. They were plain but sturdy, armed
with a variety of defenses against potential predators. Some of
their tactics were readily apparent, like the many thorns
popping out from fleshy stems. Others they held secret until
needed.
The young man worked at releasing his tension through deep,
even breathing. He tried to arrange the events of the past day
into some semblance of order so that he might analyze his
reaction to them. But the more he grasped at the myriad words
and actions, the more the truth eluded him. Instead of
serenity, he found increasing frustration.
He bounded up and began striding back and forth before the
bench, remembering Yoda's comment about a cloud hanging around
him. Why would Yoda, master of the carefully chosen word, say
such a thing?
He froze in his steps as the realization hit him. Sitting in
that classroom, he had brushed up against Darkness. He had
considered compromising the Jedi principles that were a
fundamental part of his being. Was this what an intimate
relationship with his master could lead to? Obi-Wan's knees
felt weak and he returned to the security of the bench.
He again settled himself and this time gave up any attempt to
control his thoughts. He stopped trying to analyze, calculate,
or manipulate. He instead aimed simply to exist in his niche
within the Living Force. Gradually, he regained some degree of
balance. He spent many long minutes simply breathing and
contemplating the beauty of the life within and around him,
seeking peace.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon entered their quarters, headed for
post-workout showers. Unlike the previous day, Obi-Wan had
found no solace in the afternoon's physical exertion. Try as he
might, he could not relax into his sparring, could not find the
rhythm he usually fell into with his master. Instead, his
movements were stilted and forced, leaving him open to
Qui-Gon's attacks. Two singed spots on his skin attested to his
carelessness.
During a short break in their workout, Qui-Gon had gently
chided his student. "Padawan, you must be able to keep your
concentration under mental duress. Actual battle conditions are
seldom tranquil."
"I know, Master," Obi-Wan conceded. He had no excuses.
Qui-Gon saw him glance at the door to the training ring for at
least the third time during their session. This distraction
needed to end.
"Are you expecting someone?"
"No, Master." After a slight pause, Obi-Wan asked hesitantly,
"Would you mind if I locked the door?"
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in question, but responded
affirmatively. "As you wish, Padawan."
Door duly locked, Obi-Wan had tried to focus on the moment,
funneling the encouragement that flowed from his master along
the training bond. But it was simply a hopeless afternoon, and
the young man grew increasingly distressed. Finally, Qui-Gon
put an end to his embarrassment and suggested they return to
their quarters.
Qui-Gon knew his padawan was stressed. During the midday meal,
Yoda had told him about his encounter with a disturbed Obi-Wan
on his way to the meditation gardens when he should have been
taking an exam. The master suspected what was bothering
Obi-Wan, but he wanted to postpone bringing up the matter until
they were in their own quarters with the evening before them
for an undisturbed discussion.
Now, fresh from their showers, the two men sat on the couch of
their common room, the topic looming large before them. Where
to begin?
Qui-Gon decided to start with the obvious, just to break the
silence. "Obi-Wan, we should discuss what happened between us
last night."
"Yes, Master."
The older man sighed. That certainly didn't get them very far.
"Do you want to tell me what you are feeling?"
Obi-Wan breathed out sharply with a hint of self-deprecation.
"That's exactly the problem. I don't know what I'm feeling.
I've spent most of the day trying to analyze my own mind, but
haven't found any answers." He leaned forward, making a study
of his hands. After a moment he continued. "I am confused,
Qui-Gon, about your place in my life."
The apprentice turned his face towards Qui-Gon. "What about
you, Master? What do you feel?"
"I have had more time to deal with this than you have, Obi-Wan.
I never admitted it to you, but I realized over a year ago that
my feelings had begun to change." He took a deep breath,
bracing himself before continuing. "I've known for some time
that I love you - not in a platonic way, but as one adult loves
another."
At the mention of the word love, Obi-Wan winced slightly and
drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them
tightly. He spoke without looking at his master. "You certainly
chose a strange way of expressing it."
"Yes, Padawan." Qui-Gon turned, shifting his hips to more
directly face his apprentice. He wanted to reach out and take
the smaller hand in his, but resisted the temptation. Obi-Wan
needed distance right now. "I know I hurt you terribly, and I
again say that I am sorry for the pain my selfishness caused
you."
Obi-Wan sighed and looked up toward the ceiling. He really did
not want to revisit this point.
Qui-Gon tried another tack. "You have been telling me what you
are unsure of. Is there anything that you do know?"
"Well, after last night, I know that I am attracted to you
physically." Obi-Wan gave his master a sidelong glance and
spared a quick grin. "Most definitely attracted. But that is
lust, not love."
Qui-Gon waited, hoping his padawan had more to say. With his
own love now openly acknowledged, he felt vulnerable. He
desperately hoped his sentiments would be returned.
"I know the thought of living a future without you in my life
each day fills me with dread." Obi-Wan's eyes fixed intently on
Qui-Gon's, seeking understanding. "Is that love?"
The master sighed. This was so difficult when his heart was
practically screaming to his padawan. But he knew he had to let
him find his own way. "I can't answer that question, Obi-Wan.
Love is different for each of us."
Obi-Wan started to rock slightly, still tucked up on the couch.
"I have been turning it over and over in my head, trying to
find a solution, some way that we can stay together. Don't we
make a good team, Master?" Obi-Wan's voice was tinged with
despair.
"Yes, we do." Qui-Gon stared at his own hands, wishing there
was something he could do with them to fix this problem. "But
we must do what is needed, not what we want."
Obi-Wan could no longer sit still. He rose to pace rapidly in
front of the couch, his face contorted by the frustration of
inner contradiction.
He threw up his arms as he spoke. "Qui-Gon, I came so close
today to deliberately failing my exam. Then this afternoon when
we were sparring, all I could think of was that I didn't want
another master to watch us, to make some judgement about how
ready I am for my Trials. That's not what comes from love.
That's evil! I'm a Jedi, damn it." Obi-Wan had begun to shake.
His voice was choked.
He stopped in front of his master, hugging himself with crossed
arms. He poured his distress into his words. "I don't want to
love you Qui-Gon! It hurts too much. It hurts too much knowing
that we won't be together."
Qui-Gon's heart froze. He stood and seized his padawan,
clutching him against his chest. "No, Obi-Wan, sssshh." And
then to silence him, he quickly covered his lips with his own,
seeking that which he knew must be there. Force, let it be
there.
Obi-Wan's emotions roared into that kiss, opening, taking,
grabbing whatever part of Qui-Gon he could find. Maybe he
couldn't have a lifetime with him, but he could have this
moment.
This time it was the master who was left breathless by their
kiss. Obi-Wan broke away, and taking Qui-Gon's hand in his,
pulled him to the bedroom. Qui-Gon allowed himself to be led,
surrendering to his padawan's intentions.
Obi-Wan stood next to the bed, slowly and deliberately removing
his clothes, his eyes locked on his master's face. Qui-Gon
stood watching the handsome body being slowly revealed. It was
incredibly arousing just to look at him.
When Qui-Gon moved to undress himself, Obi-Wan sent him a
mental admonition. [Wait.] He stepped very close, and just as
deliberately began to divest his master of his clothes.
As each square inch of skin was exposed, it was explored by
Obi-Wan's fingers, his lips, or his tongue. He noted the
differences in the skin's texture - so soft on the shoulders,
rough on the worn elbows, deliciously calloused on the fingers,
furry on the legs, tender behind the knees. His favorite spot
was just where the leg met the torso, that incredibly soft,
delicate skin that lay on either side of Qui-Gon's penis.
Kneeling, Obi-Wan nuzzled his face there, touching, licking,
breathing the smell, glancing to see the visible effect his
attentions were having on his master. By the time he was
completely naked, Qui-Gon was shaking with want.
He pulled Obi-Wan up to kiss him again, and then whispered
softly into his ear, "Take me."
It was a plea -- a plea from a man who had long carried an
unadmitted need, made to the one to whom he must reveal
himself. Obi-Wan gasped as the words sent a jolt of shocking
desire through him.
[ Yes, Qui-Gon. ] He lie down on the bed and pulled his master
down beside him. [Turn over.]
Qui-Gon willingly turned and knelt, a supplicant to the love
this act was meant to embrace. He positioned himself, elbows
supporting his upper body, waiting.
Obi-Wan stared at his master's back. The vulnerability of the
position and the trust it implied made his heart clench. He
picked up the bottle of bath oil Qui-Gon had used the previous
night, and rubbed some onto his hands. He stroked and massaged
his master's back, moving down to the round cheeks of his ass,
working ever closer to the most sensitive areas. Obi-Wan kissed
and sucked the spot at the base of his spine.
Qui-Gon moaned, rocking slightly as the waves of pleasure and
anticipation built.
Finally, Obi-Wan's fingers slipped inside Qui-Gon's body,
slowly, carefully. The kneeling man was breathing harshly,
trying to control his need to plunge back against that hand.
Time seemed to slow as Obi-Wan moved the fingers in a hypnotic
rhythm, in and out, each stroke seeking the spot that would
generate the starburst.
"Aaahhh." Qui-Gon did arch and push back then, craving more.
"Now, please, Obi-Wan. Take me now!"
Obi-Wan withdrew his fingers and moved closer to his master's
body. His own cock ached for this consummation, but still, he
hesitated. He felt the desire - the need - for him pouring over
their bond. The power of that need was almost overwhelming.
Qui-Gon looked back over his shoulder. Obi-Wan's eyes locked
onto his, and saw the truth that shone from them. Qui-Gon
looked away, then, as Obi-Wan sank deep inside him in one slow
thrust. The young man's breath rasped, controlling the urge to
release himself immediately.
Encouraged by an impatient groan from Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan began to
move with long, fluid strokes, the speed of his thrusts
increasing ever so gradually. He managed to reach around
Qui-Gon's body to stroke his penis, wanting to bring him the
same degree of pleasure he felt.
This was unlike anything Obi-Wan had experienced before. The
sensation of penetrating his master became a revelation. He
felt the Force ringing through their bond. Joy flowed between
them, and Obi-Wan knew. He knew as he came, shuddering with the
final hard thrusts into Qui-Gon's body. He knew as he felt the
wetness in his hand and heard his master cry out his name.
The tears came then, unbidden but undeniable. Qui-Gon rolled
over and Obi-Wan collapsed onto him.
He sobbed out in anguish, "I do love you." He pounded his fist
into Qui-Gon's chest. "Damn, damn, damn. I love you so much."
Qui-Gon let him spend his emotion, relief flooding his own
mind. If Obi-Wan loved him, he could cope with whatever
happened in the future.
The tears purged Obi-Wan of his inner turmoil. The pounding
fists turned into an embrace, and for a short time he savored
the comfort of his lover's arms. Eventually, he sat up on the
bed, looking down at his master. He breathed deliberately,
calming himself so that he could think clearly. He was close to
grasping the truth that had evaded him all day, and he meant to
lock onto it.
"Master," he spoke shakily, "I understand now. It was the
denial, not the love that was making me so confused. Denying my
true feelings made me lose my balance in the Force."
Qui-Gon reached out to stroke the leg closest to him, needing
physical contact. "We seem to have each had difficulty facing
our inner truth in the last couple of days."
Obi-Wan nodded, leaning forward to gently finger Qui-Gon's hair
as the master continued speaking. "Maybe now we can look
forward with a greater acceptance of our fates. We just need to
believe that the Force will provide a future to us that won't
be so painful as what you imagine."
"It will, Master. We will find a way that we can be together."
The words were spoken with such surety, such youthful resolve,
Qui-Gon couldn't help but believe them.
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