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Archive: M_A, Bailnow

Pairing: Obi/Bail

Category: angst

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All hail the creator of the GFFA.

Summary: Bail shows a tired Obi-Wan just how much he cares.

Notes: This story takes place in Jedi Rita's Obi/Bail universe. Many thanks to her for giving them a life together and for being my beta for this piece.

The first inspiration for this story is Jedi Rita's story "Rug Burn", in which Bail freaks out in the middle of lovemaking at the thought of Obi-Wan ruining his new carpet with the evidence of his passion. It's my very favorite PWP because she expresses humor, hot sex, and a world of characterization in just a few sentences.

My other inspiration is an ancient Chinese legend of male love involving the emperor Ai Ti and his favorite, Tung Hsien. One day the two men were sitting on a couch when the young man fell asleep with his head resting on the emperor's sleeve. The emperor had to leave to attend to official business, but hesitated to disturb his lover's sleep. He took his sword and cut off his sleeve, hence the term 'the cut sleeve' as a literary expression for homosexuality among men.

Feedback: Sure

Bail Organa, junior Senator from Alderaan stood in front of the floor-length mirror, studying his reflection. His new robe had just arrived from the tailor and he had quickly paid the messenger droid and torn open the package.

Bail lifted the soft, heavy material, caressing it with his fingers. The color was a rich claret hue. Bail usually favored sapphire colored robes, but he had seen this material at one of the trade stalls in the nearby commercial district, and couldn't resist its siren call. He lifted the heavy folds from the box and rubbed the fabric against his cheek before hurrying to take off his clothes. He slipped on the robe and regarded himself for just a moment.

He really shouldn't be taking the time for this. He had things he should be doing instead of trying on new clothes and admiring himself in the mirror. He had a backlog of reports on datapads that would stack up to the top of his head if printed out, and he was expecting a very important transmission from Senator Antilles any time now.

But, oh, Bail did so love beautiful things. He always had and he supposed he always would, even after years of exposure to Jedi philosophy and examples of thrift, modesty and moderation in all things.

"Speaking of beautiful things," he mused, "I wonder if Obi-Wan has returned from his mission yet?" Bail smiled as he thought about his favorite beautiful thing. And not just his fine features and physical grace, either. There was also the brightness of his spirit. An inner beauty, if you will. Not that the outer beauty was negligible, Bail thought to himself, remembering soft shoulder length hair, lively blue-green eyes under golden lashes, and firm muscles covered by glowing, pale skin.

The doorbell rang, and as if on cue, Obi-Wan appeared when Bail opened the door.

"Ben!" he cried happily and stretched his arms out to the man standing wearily before him. Obi-Wan stepped gratefully into Bail's embrace and lowered his head to Bail's shoulder with a sigh.

Oh, so it was going to be one of those nights, Bail thought ruefully. He never knew which Obi-Wan would show up after one of his absences. Sometimes Ben was exuberant after a mission, happy with himself and the world around him. At these times, he would be a delightfully playful lover, almost unrecognizable when compared to his public self.

Other times, when the mission hadn't gone so well, he would be pensive and distracted. Then Bail would have to decide whether it would be better to leave him alone, to try and jolly him out of his funk, or to tentatively ask questions about his time away, letting Obi-Wan tell him as much as he wanted to or was allowed to about his mission.

Obi-Wan had often come home to Coruscant thoughtful and dispirited lately. More often than not, it wasn't the mission itself, but his padawan's behavior that drove him to distraction. Bail had never had children, of course, or any close relationship with a younger person that even resembled that of Obi-Wan and Anakin. So he was never quite sure what to say to Ben when he recounted his unease with Anakin's actions or the excuses the boy gave for them.

But he did listen, and that seemed to mean a great deal to Ben. Bail would see a gradual lessening of tension after a long evening together sitting in front of a fire with glasses of some of Obi-Wan's favorite wine. With luck, sometimes Bail was able to move the other man into the bedroom, there to relieve his tension more thoroughly before sending him back to the Temple to deal with his troublesome apprentice.

Sometimes, but not too often, Obi-Wan would attack Bail physically after his admittance to the apartment. His hands and lips would be everywhere at once as he tore Bail's clothes from his body. He would take Bail on the floor or up against the wall and then demand the same from him in return. It was almost as though he wished to lose himself in Bail, physically become a part of him. Bail knew that these times were after the very worst missions when Obi-Wan had seen or done things that he could hardly bear to remember. Bail welcomed whichever man came to his door, warmed by the knowledge that this was his Bendu, the person behind the serene Jedi mask that was shared only with him.

But the man who sank into Bail's embrace this night wasn't any of these. Tonight, Ben was used up, exhausted beyond measure. So Bail was inordinately pleased that he had come to see him first instead of retreating to his rooms at the Temple for a well-deserved rest.

"Hi," Obi-Wan breathed, raising his head from Bail's shoulder and flashing him a weak version of his usually brilliant smile.

"Hi, yourself," Bail replied, bending to gently kiss his lips. "Come on. Let's sit down." Bail led Obi-Wan to the sofa, sat on one end of it and extended his arm for him to rest his head against. Obi-Wan placed his hand in Bail's. He closed his eyes and then forced them open again.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"That's all right," Bail replied. "Go ahead and rest your eyes. We can still talk. Bad mission?"

"No, not bad," Obi-Wan said softly. "Just intense. I left Anakin at the Temple and for once I think he's going to go straight to bed without tinkering with droid parts or sneaking out to wander the lower levels."

"Will wonders never cease," Bail chuckled. Obi-Wan didn't want to talk, so Bail just chattered on about city gossip. After a while he realized that Obi-Wan had fallen asleep. Bail looked down at him, seeing the premature lines around his mouth and the dark circles under his eyes. With a start, he realized that even though he was the elder by a few years Obi-Wan was beginning to look the older of the two. When had this begun to happen? Bail removed his hand from Obi-Wan's and ran two fingers tenderly down the side of his face. He then began to thread his fingers though his hair but stopped when Obi-Wan roused enough to murmur softly and rock his head slightly from side to side.

Bail took a moment to gaze at Ben's well-loved face. Then he tried to remove his arm from behind Obi-Wan's head and frowned when he realized that to do so would surely wake the man sitting next to him. Now what? He couldn't bear to wake him but he had things to do. Damn! And there was his message light blinking. It was probably the transmission that he was waiting for from Senior Bail.

He tugged his arm experimentally. Obi-Wan was a dead weight, most of his face resting on the flowing material of Bail's robe, his head barely resting on Bail's arm. Bail tried raising his arm in one slow, smooth motion. It only shifted Obi-Wan's head and caused a snorting sound to issue from his nose. Well that didn't work, he thought. Bail looked at him fondly but then began tapping the fingers of his free hand on the arm of the sofa.

This was getting ridiculous. Obi-Wan could sleep for hours. He looked like he could stand to sleep for days. But Bail couldn't stay like this forever. His arm was falling asleep. Bail looked restlessly around the room until his eyes lit upon an antique jewelled letter opener lying on the small table next to him. Bail had brought it from his family home years ago because he had always liked the pattern of gems encrusting the hilt of the dagger-like implement.

Bail looked at the antique thoughtfully and then looked at Obi-Wan's face lying against the thick, soft nap of his sleeve. He picked up the letter opener and, with only a slight grimace, slit the robe from shoulder to wrist. Then he slipped out of the garment, leaving the material to pool around Obi-Wan's head and shoulders.

Sometime later in the night, Bail Organa, dressed in a simple shirt and leggings, sat at his desk. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. That was enough work for now. He couldn't do much more tonight and the pile of datapads with Senate business would still be there tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.

He jumped when he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He was always taken by surprise by how silently the Jedi could move. Bail began to turn in his chair.

"Ben," he said, but Obi-Wan placed a finger to his lips.

"Shh," Obi-Wan whispered. A puddle of thick, claret colored material was thrown onto the desk.

"But I wanted to tell you," Bail began.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said again and raised the heavy weight of curls from the back of Bail's neck. Obi-Wan kissed the back of Bail's neck several times. He moved his lips to his jaw and then to his mouth. Then his nose was attended to, and his eyelids. Slender fingers carded through his hair again and again while lips traced the contours of Bail's face and neck.

Bemused, Bail let Obi-Wan lead him to the bedroom and take off his clothes. Obi-Wan removed his own tunics and leggings, never taking his eyes from Bail's face. He gently pushed Bail down onto the bed and thoroughly explored the other man's body with hands and mouth. Finally, he concentrated his efforts on Bail's penis, bringing him to a shuddering release.

Obi-Wan moved up Bail's languid form and took him into his arms. They shared soft kisses until Bail put his hands on either side of Obi-Wan's buttocks and pressed him rhythmically against his hip. Their kisses deepened as Obi-Wan rubbed himself against Bail. Suddenly he stiffened and groaned into the junction of Bail's neck and shoulder. Obi-Wan's face remained tucked into his neck as the other man pulled the covers up over the pair. Bail pulled away slightly and opened his mouth to speak.

"Shh," said Obi-Wan and pulled him back into his arms. They slept.