Late One Night

by Raina

Archive: yes please, M_A; nuttersinc (elsewhere please ask for distribution)

Pairing: Q/O

Category: Romance, PWP, Mush

Rating: R-ish

Disclaimer: Fiend in Flannel. No money. Ever.

Feedback: always appreciated - raina_at@yahoo.de

Summary: Obi-Wan can't sleep so he visits his former Master

Spoilers: TPM but Qui-Gon didn't die

Notes: Ok, so I know this isn't very original. But my muses demanded fluff and so I gave it to them. Besides, the image of Obi-Wan in huge green fluffy socks was irresistible.

Thank you to Leandra as always for liking the fic, my brother for the huge green army socks he gave to me after he was discharged and Tem- ve for the beta.

It was very late, almost the famed small hours of the morning. The Temple corridor lights were on their weakest setting, the moonlight streaming through the oval windows swallowing the lamplight easily.

Obi-Wan's bare feet didn't make any sound on the cold stone floor as he wandered through the corridors. He rubbed his bare arms and crossed them over his unclothed chest to shake off the chill that was travelling up from his feet through his body. He should have got dressed, but if he had stopped to put on clothes, he wouldn't have left his quarters in the first place. Pride would have won and he would have gone back to his lonely bed in his empty, uncomfortable knight's quarters and not sneaked through the Temple in the middle of the night to seek company and a bit of warmth in his former Master's quarters.

He should not want this. He was a knight now. He'd been off-planet for the last three months, on his first mission as a knight, and he'd been too busy to be lonely. But now, back at the Temple, in the quarters he'd been assigned after he'd moved out of the ones he'd shared with Qui-Gon, the cold and loneliness of the rooms had robbed him of his sleep.

Still, the rational, prideful part of his mind chided him for seeking solace with his former Master just because he felt alone in his new quarters. He would have to learn to deal with not living with Qui-Gon sooner or later. The separation after his knighting had been very difficult, especially after Naboo. It had taken three months for Qui- Gon to recover, and Obi-Wan had been there the whole time, helping and supporting Qui-Gon, forgoing his own knighting for as long as possible, but when Qui-Gon had healed there had been no reason for him to stay anymore, so the Council had knighted him, Qui-Gon had cut his braid and Obi-Wan had moved out, all the while hiding his pain at having to leave his Master under a mask of Jedi serenity until he finally got to his new quarters where no one had seen him cry.

But even Jedi serenity had its limits. Right now, he did not care for pride or his hard-earned emotional independence from Qui-Gon, right now he was just a lonely man looking for the company of a friend, and the best friend he had was Qui-Gon Jinn.

He arrived, shivering with the cold of the night and the stone under his bare feet. His hand hovered over the door chime for a few moments. It was very late. And he hadn't called first. Maybe he shouldn't wake Qui-Gon. Or maybe his former Master even had company.

Obi-Wan chided himself for an idiot and turned to leave, but hesitated. And what if Qui-Gon was alone and not adverse to an after- midnight chat? When he'd been a Padawan, Qui-Gon had never minded the hour - whenever Obi-Wan had needed him he'd been there with kind words and a cup of hot tea. And what had been Qui-Gon's parting words? "My door is always open to you, Obi-Wan. Always."

Obi-Wan made a decision and pressed the door chime.

The door swished open almost immediately and he was greeted by a smiling Qui-Gon. "I wondered how long you'd hover out there. Come in, Padawan, the tea is almost ready."

Obi-Wan smiled in relief and followed his former Master into the set of rooms he still thought of as his home.

Qui-Gon leaned back against the couch behind him and set down his teacup near Obi-Wan's head. The young knight was lying sprawled on the floor, on his stomach, head propped up on his hands, tea cup forgotten as he told Qui-Gon about his mission.

Qui-Gon chuckled when Obi-Wan recounted his meeting with the Delorian ambassador, whom he had gravely insulted by calling him `Madam' when in fact the ambassador was male.

Obi-Wan sketched a disclaiming gesture. "How was I supposed to know that? Delorian males look exactly like their females, only the colour nuances of the plumage are different, but it was so dark in the room that I couldn't tell what colour it was, and the regent seemed to flirt with him, so I..."

"You assumed he was a female," Qui-Gon finished Obi-Wan's sentence.

"I didn't assume, Master, I extrapolated."

"Always with the semantics, Padawan," Qui-Gon said in a chiding tone, but could not hide his warm smile.

Obi-Wan smiled back. "Anyway..." He resumed the tale about his mission and Qui-Gon leaned back once more to indulge in the pleasure of listening to Obi-Wan's voice telling him the trivial and the momentous moments of his first solo assignment. The simple and undemanding joy of Obi-Wan's company relaxed Qui-Gon and filled him with a tranquillity he had been sorely lacking during the last three months. Or to be more precise, since the exact day Obi-Wan had moved out.

Oh, how Qui-Gon missed him. Missed his smile, his sparkling laugh, his humming in the morning, his silences and moods, his mere presence in their quarters. Since Obi-Wan's leaving his life had been so much emptier and colder. He had been overjoyed to feel Obi-Wan's Force presence at the door earlier and when Obi-Wan had hesitated over the call button, he had been hard pressed not to open the door, drag him in and preferably get him to stay as long as he could. As it had been, Obi-Wan had fortunately decided to press the chime and spare them both the burden of loneliness for at least this one night. He'd made the tea, had handed his shivering former Padawan one of his old robes and a pair of green fluffy wool socks, and now Obi-Wan was lounging on the floor in the too-big robe and the equally too big socks, sipping tea and chattering on as if he'd never been gone.

The lights in the room were low, their voices quiet. Instinctively, Obi-Wan had settled very close to Qui-Gon, so they did not have to speak loudly to be heard and they needed only to reach out a little bit to touch. Obi-Wan finished telling Qui-Gon about his mission, and they moved on to other topics. They spoke briefly of Qui-Gon's health, which was fortunately excellent, and about Anakin, who had been assigned a Master and was prospering under the watchful eye of the Council. They spoke about common friends and acquaintances, about Temple gossip and intergalactic news, and when they ran out of information to share, they reminisced about their time together, their missions and more trivial events of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship.

The hour grew from late to very late to early again and Qui-Gon started to get tired, but he did not dare to confess it, for if he said the words, Obi-Wan would leave and Qui-Gon would be alone again. He did not want this night to end. Did not want the sun to rise, wanted to stop time so he and Obi-Wan would be here like this forever, sitting on the floor, speaking of inconsequential things, sipping tea turned cold, just being together.

Obi-Wan rested his head on his arms and sighed. "Remember the time on Velaris when you fell into that wishing well?"

Qui-Gon snorted. "You make it sound like I just stumbled in there. I was evading a blaster bolt, you know."

Obi-Wan turned onto his back and smiled. "I remember, Master. I also remember some of the words you used when I pulled you out of that well. I never found out what some of these words meant. And believe me, I checked. "

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Good times," he sighed.

Obi-Wan nodded and yawned, closing his eyes.

Silence settled over them. Obi-Wan's head was lying directly next to Qui-Gon's thigh and the Master couldn't resist pushing a strand of Obi-Wan's hair back from his forehead. Obi-Wan only smiled.

Emboldened, Qui-Gon ran his hand through his former Padawan's hair. It was longer and seemed blonder than it had when it had been still in the Padawan cut. It felt different too. Silky. Warm to touch. Once again, Qui-Gon carded his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, encouraged by the small purring sound coming from Obi-Wan. "It's growing out nicely," Qui-Gon said quietly.

Obi-Wan smiled but didn't open his eyes, moving his head closer to the hand still in his hair. "It's still a bit weird, though. Every time I look in the mirror, I wonder if it's really me I'm seeing."

Qui-Gon ran his hand through the silky strands once more, and then again, and again, until he was continually stroking his former Padawan's hair, encouraged by the way Obi-Wan rubbed his head against Qui-Gon's hand and the small sounds of pleasure that came from him. Still the same kitten he used to be, Qui-Gon mused and closed his eyes as well, letting his head fall back against the couch. His hand continued to caress Obi-Wan's hair, letting the strands glide through his fingers lovingly, the only touch he allowed himself.

Again, he wished this would never end, wished this moment would stay, this moment where he could listen to Obi-Wan's soft noises of relaxed pleasure, more dear to him than any other sound in the galaxy. But he knew that inevitably, morning would come and Obi-Wan would go.

He resented morning. He resented life for giving him this gift, for giving him Obi-Wan only to take him away again. But he knew this was how it must be. He had formed and taught and loved Obi-Wan for 12 years, now it was time for the young man to stand on his own. It was nobody's fault, certainly not Obi-Wan's, that in these 12 years, Qui- Gon had fallen in love with Obi-Wan, over and over again, that Qui- Gon had lost his heart so irrevocably to Obi-Wan that sometimes he wished death had indeed taken him on Naboo and had spared him the sight of his beloved Padawan moving out of his life.

It was inevitable, the way of the Force, Padawans became Knights and the Masters took new Padawans who became Knights, but Qui-Gon knew he would never teach again, not for anything in the galaxy would he fill the endless void Obi-Wan had created with another Padawan who would certainly be unique and precious, but who would nevertheless suffer the irredeemable fault of not being his Obi-Wan and therefore would never be able to fill the hole in Qui-Gon's heart. He had tried, had considered taking Anakin to train, but he had taken one look at the child and decided not to taint the boy with the still too vivid shadow of a predecessor he could never hope to replace and whom he would never be able to outgrow.

A contented sigh ran through Obi-Wan's body. "Force, I missed this."

"Me too," Qui-Gon answered quietly.

"Why can't we stay like this forever...," Obi-Wan whispered.

"Because you're a knight now." Because you must fly on your own. Because you're grown and have your own life now. Because you no longer need me. Because you will never love me the way I love you. But of course Qui-Gon said none of these things.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, I know. I'm a knight now. But it feels so good being here, with you. Can't I be a knight now and have that as well? Why can't I have my knighthood and have you too?"

Qui-Gon's hand stilled and Obi-Wan's eyes opened. "Did I just say that out loud?" Obi-Wan whispered, shocked.

Qui-Gon nodded.

Obi-Wan sat up, blushing to the roots of his hair. "Um... I..." He looked down at his hands, embarrassed.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly. He doesn't mean it like that. He doesn't mean it like that. Repeat that to yourself, Jinn, he told himself and focused again on his flustered former apprentice. "Padawan, listen to me. You might often find yourself lonely or daunted by your new life's challenges, but I have every faith that you will meet these challenges to the best of your abilities. You might not believe it now, but you don't need me anymore."

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes shining with emotions Qui-Gon couldn't read, and he cursed the loss of the training bond and the low lights that made it impossible to tell the colour of Obi-Wan's eyes, a sure clue to his former Padawan's moods. The young knight smiled, a slow, sad smile, and Qui-Gon's heart clenched painfully. "I know. I haven't truly needed you for years now, Qui-Gon. But has it ever occurred to you that I might want you?"

He doesn't mean it like that. He doesn't mean it like that. Oh, if only the training bond was still there and Obi-Wan wasn't so incredibly beautiful in the moonlight. "You don't want me there, Obi- Wan," he rasped, voice unsteady with emotion. "You deserve to fly on your own now. You deserve to make your own mistakes, your own experiences. I would only hinder you on your path. It would be selfish of me to hold you back."

Obi-Wan leaned closer, slowly, inch by inch, insinuated himself into Qui-Gon's space, and contrary to the voice still chanting the mantra in Qui-Gon's head, it seemed that Obi-Wan did in fact meant it like that when the young man stopped, face inches from Qui-Gon's and whispered, breath ghosting over Qui-Gon's skin, "Be selfish. Please."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of Obi-Wan's warm skin and hair, so near. He opened his eyes again and exhaled with a soft sigh. "I can't. I let you go."

"But I'm back now. Don't you want me here?" Obi-Wan's eyes, close enough that he could see they were deep blue, bored into his with a much more fundamental question.

"Of course I want you here. I never wanted you to leave. But what I want is unimportant. It would be selfish..."

A finger over his lips stopped him. "It's not unimportant to me. It will never be unimportant to me. Let me be selfish for both of us..."

The finger over his mouth was replaced by lips, warm dry lips, brushing over his, and Qui-Gon's resolve broke. He drew Obi-Wan closer, buried his hands in the growing soft hair, let his tongue slip out to taste lips he had dreamed of for years and sank into the kiss, Obi-Wan's warm mouth, warm skin, warm presence. A noise rose from Obi-Wan's throat, an instinctive sound of pleasure and comfort, and Qui-Gon fell in love with him again, for the thousandth time, this time for good, to stay, and this time he knew that Obi-Wan fell too, and Qui-Gon abandoned reason, logic, common sense to this feeling of togetherness that he hoped was here to stay.

For an interminable time, they kissed, sharing breath and warmth and the soft caress of lips on lips. Qui-Gon's hands found their way under the robe, up Obi-Wan's muscled back, traced his spine up to his shoulders, Obi-Wan's fingers tangled in Qui-Gon's hair. Qui-Gon had fantasised a thousand times about this moment, yet found himself completely unprepared for how simply good just kissing Obi- Wan felt, how right, how...serene.

He drew back and stared at Obi-Wan in wonder, his Obi-Wan, his Knight, former Padawan, flushed, red-kissed lips, smiling at him, irresistible and utterly willing. Willing, yes, but to do what exactly? If Obi-Wan gave this to him and then left the next morning, Qui-Gon wouldn't be able to pretend his heart hadn't been broken.

Overwhelmed, Qui-Gon put his forehead against Obi-Wan's, whispering, "Please, Obi-Wan, please be sure of what you're doing here. Please be sure you don't do this out of loneliness and tiredness."

Obi-Wan drew back to look into Qui-Gon's eyes. "You'd think I'd do that? You'd think I'd do that with you?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Not consciously. But are you sure you're not guided by your loneliness and insecurity in your new life as a knight?"

"You're no longer my Master, you know," Obi-Wan said, clearly irritated. "You don't have to baby-sit me anymore. I'm an adult and capable of making decisions for myself. And for your information, I didn't kiss you because I'm lonely or out of some passing insecurity. I kissed you because, frankly, I have fantasised about it since I was 17 years old and found you making out with that Crellian boy we met on Tironis."

"You...fantasised about kissing me before?" Qui-Gon asked, voice no more than a throaty whisper.

Obi-Wan smiled and moved closer. "In excruciating detail." He lightly touched his lips to Qui-Gon's and breathed against his lips, "Falls short of the reality, though."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and leaned forward, into the taste and smell and touch of all that was Obi-Wan. Slowly, gently, never breaking the kiss, they moved together until Obi-Wan lay on his back, Qui-Gon's robe underneath him and Qui-Gon himself half on top of him. He shrugged out of the robe completely and his hands, these clever elegant hands Qui-Gon had always admired started to wander over Qui-Gon's body with a gentleness that made Qui- Gon swallow and sigh into Obi-Wan's mouth, still fused to his.

He allowed his own hands to wander, over skin and muscle, over the body he'd helped to form. He discovered sensitive areas and ticklish ones with his fingers while his tongue acquainted itself with Obi- Wan's mouth, teeth, gums, tongue, then moved on to his neck and ears, kissing the place where the Padawan braid had been, and Obi-Wan gasped into Qui-Gon's ear, the hot breath a sensation that went directly into Qui-Gon's groin. He felt Obi-Wan's arousal pressing into his thigh, felt his own shaft harden as Obi-Wan shifted his legs so that thigh met groin, rubbed, as his former Padawan moved sensually beneath him, arching into the touch of his hands and mouth.

Friction. Heat. Mouth on his ear, tracing the shell and breathing onto the wet trail that clever tongue left. Obi-Wan's fingers moved into his hair, pulling him down to seal their mouths together once more, and all the while that thigh continued to rub against him, Obi- Wan continued to move his own arousal against Qui-Gon. It was lazy and loving and oh so good, the heat building slowly, gently until the mouth on his grew more insistent and the body against his started to move with greater determination, and then Qui-Gon was rubbing and moaning and thrusting, and Obi-Wan arched under him with a bone-deep moan and came, the wet warmth through thin sleep clothes triggering Qui-Gon's own orgasm. Pleasure slammed into him and for long moments, his world was reduced to trembling and gasping for breath.

When he came back to coherent thought, he was lying sprawled on top of Obi-Wan, who was chuckling, a huge smile on his face.

"You know, laughter after sex isn't all that reassuring to your partner, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, trying and failing to sound grumpy.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes impossibly blue, still smiling happily, dishevelled and glowing. "Sorry, but it just occurred to me that I'm still wearing your old wool socks. Isn't it bad manners to make love in socks?"

Qui-Gon laughed, happy and sated. "Well, you're right. I'll make it up to you, all right?"

Obi-Wan's smile turned wicked. "I hope so. Not that I'm complaining about how this night is going, but I sincerely hope to get us both undressed before the sun rises. But I'm in no hurry. I've waited this long..."

Serious again, Qui-Gon propped himself up on an elbow to look at his former Padawan and new lover. "You've really wanted me since you were 17?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "At first it was just the usual Padawan crush, but the more I got to know you as a friend and not just as my Master, the more I learned of the man you were beneath my idealised mentor, the more my love for you changed from hero-worship to the love of a man for another, for the complex, stubborn, hard to know, beautiful human being that you hide so well under all that Jedi calm." Obi-Wan smiled softly and traced a finger over Qui-Gon's lips.

Qui-Gon kissed the tracing fingertip. "But why did you never say anything? All those years, you never breathed a word."

Obi-Wan's smile took a self-depreciating edge. "You were Qui-Gon Jinn The Inscrutable Mountain of Serenity, and I was Obi-Wan The Obvious. I thought you knew and just didn't return the feelings. It never occurred to me that you were just as dense as I was."

Qui-Gon chuckled and poked a finger into Obi-Wan's ribs. "Brat. You're not to old to turn over my knee!"

"Promises, promises...," Obi-Wan's eyes sparkled, drawing Qui-Gon in with the clear invitation they extended.

His mouth went dry and his laugh died on his lips. "Bedroom?" he whispered, voice husky with sudden, painful desire.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Can I stay the night?"

Qui-Gon swallowed. "Stay forever."

Still smiling, Obi-Wan pressed a kiss against Qui-Gon's lips, feather-light. "All right. I will."

end