Love Notes

by Laura McEwan (raynebow1968@hotmail.com)

Archive - Yes, M_A and myself
Category - Qui/Obi, First Time, Romance
Rating - NC-17
Warnings - sex, but sweet sex!
Disclaimer - not my boys, but oh how I wish. Just Lucas!
Spoilers - nope!
Summary - Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan discover they are meant for each other.
Feedback: yes, please, any comments welcome. My very first story ever! raynebow1968@hotmail.com onlist or off.
Notes: ~~ for italics; special thanks to Alex, for it was her writing that led me here and to look within myself for my own story to tell. And thanks also for the beta!

Laughter, borne on the soft breeze, made itself known to the small gathering of Jedi Masters.

"Someone must have fallen in," remarked Qui-Gon, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Of a certainty," replied Adi Gallia, craning her neck to see if any padawans were within view. "Ah- it's yours, Qui-Gon."

"Again?" Mild exasperation crossed his face, and he headed toward the three young people appearing over the rise of hill. Two were still laughing, sometimes stopping to catch their breath, then running to catch up with the drenched young man, stomping furiously along, red-gold hair dark and wet against his head, as he stripped off his soaked tunic. He made no acknowledgement of the others' hilarity.

"Padawan! What happened this time?" Qui-Gon stepped in front of Obi-Wan, preventing his passage to the tent on the edge of the camp.

Obi-Wan, his lips set in a firm line, would not look his master in the eyes. "I just - slipped."

"You just slipped."

A terse, quick nod was Obi-Wan's only reply.

"You were just standing there, minding your own business, doing nothing that would precipitate a plunge into the water, and you just slipped. Is that what I am to understand, Padawan?" Qui-Gon crossed his arms and bent his head a bit closer to Obi-Wan's face, eyebrows raised quizzically.

"No." A sigh. "I was trying to show Garen the block you taught me yesterday during defense practice and...well, we got too close to the edge of the river." He glanced at his partners in padawan crime as they walked hurriedly past Qui-Gon and himself, still snickering.

"Ah." Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Padawan, what is the most basic of defense rules?"

"Always be aware of your surroundings, to note where you are in relation to not only your opponents but also of the area around you."

"Forgot that, did you?" Qui-Gon placed one large, heavy hand on Obi-Wan's bare shoulder. Such an innocent touch. His skin is so warm, even after a river plunge.

"If that had been a real battle, it would likely have been resulted in a worse outcome than a simple dunking in the river."

"Yes, Master."

"You will meditate on this. You must not let your guard down!"

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan looked up, at the face he knew so well. Aging, but so beautifully, small lines beginning to weave a pattern; a map, of past experiences, sadness, joy. Graying hair, likely made that way by his padawan's carefree actions in danger. The man he knew best, loved beyond anything else.

Loved him. Beyond anything else.

His hand is so warm.

Obi-Wan knew all the warnings...padawans feel a hero worship towards their masters; crushes aren't love, but they're normal; Jedi really shouldn't love, it's too distracting, etc., etc., etc.

He didn't care. He couldn't deny what he felt so deep inside. While he may have been careless today, letting his guard down around his friends, the shields he'd carefully built to hide his love from Qui-Gon always held, were always up tight. His most private part of himself.

He realized he was staring at his master.

"May I eat now, Master?" He looked beyond Qui-Gon to the table where Garen and Sho-Ryn were already feasting on the fruit and cheeses arrayed there, for the moment forgetting their friend and his hilarious tumble into the water.

"I think you had best put dry clothing on first," Qui-Gon replied wryly, reaching out for Obi-Wan's padawan braid and giving the end a squeeze, dripping excess water onto the ground. "I'll make sure Garen doesn't eat all the Goba fruit." Obi-Wan flashed him a grin - that charming, beautiful, grin that made his face light up like a second sun shining on the planet. Qui-Gon's heart ached for seeing it.

"Thank you, Master. Keep two for me!" he called as he jogged to their tent.

Adi and P'Lell regarded Qui-Gon solemnly as he made his way to the table.

"He's fine, just wet."

Amused glances passed between the two as Qui-Gon reached with large hands, safeguarding two Gobas for his padawan.

His padawan. Twilight found the six Jedi- three masters, three padawans- seated contentedly around the fire. Meditations, dishes and firewood gathering were done and they were simply enjoying the smells and sounds of the green forest. The Masters felt that their padawans had done such outstanding work in the past month that they chose to spend their last night camping out, under the brilliance of the stars that, tomorrow, they would travel amongst again.

The party had come to Amoria to assist in the setting up of a central school system. While children strong in the Force were taken to Coruscant as a matter of regular rule, those left behind needed a more structured education than had been provided to them in the past. King Torpal had formally requested that the Jedi Temple help establish several schools scattered across the planet, to instruct in the basics of astronomy and science, mathematics, inter-planetary literatures and languages, and basic martial arts.

Several Amorian adults had already come to Coruscant to train as teachers for the youngsters, and had now returned to Amoria with the Jedi, armed with lessons and now, some limited experience.

Adi Gallia, Qui-Gon Jinn, and P'Lell Tonkani were assigned, with their padawans, to establish the curriculum within the schools themselves and assist in the teaching for the first few days.

It had been a wonderfully satisfying experience for them all, to partake in a mission where knowledge was sought rather than trying to divert a battle fought over land or ruling party rights.

The Amorian elders had observed the padawans with open awe, marveling at their skills, knowledge, and dedication while still just young adults, and showing great admiration to their masters for leading them along their paths.

The padawans had freely given of themselves to the new students, suggesting study methods, demonstrating katas and self defense tactics again and again until those attempting the moves showed a modicum of skill and understanding; always encouraged by the young Jedi in every effort.

In gratitude, King Torpol and the elders had insisted upon giving farewell gifts to the padawans. Their masters, also proud of how their charges had comported themselves on this mission, allowed the honor.

P'Lell's padawan, Sho-Ryn, was presented with a perfect sphere of blue tenima - a highly prized mineral among the Amorians. "For showing us that there is not just one side to see, but that all sides make the whole." King Torpol carefully placed the sphere in Sho-Ryn's hands.

Garen, Adi Gallia's student, received a set of Gallen sticks. The sticks could bend without breaking and a set of six could create fascinating shapes. "For helping us to learn how varying lessons of differing subjects work together to become yet something new."

For Obi-Wan, his master's secret pride -a lilter. Made of sprine wood, it was slightly oval, with a hole in its center, and hollow inside. Six strings stretched from one side of the center hole across the main body and up a neck of darker wood, where they connected to tighteners made of ivory. Strumming the strings created a musical sound, and applying pressure to various points along the strings on the neck changed the sound of the tones. "For reminding us that not all lessons must be learned academically. Some require freedom of expression."

This was the object of Obi-Wan's attention that night in their camp, flickering firelight reflecting off the polished red wood. Patterns of notes became clear beneath his questing fingers as he tested this sound and that, holding this note, then plucking two in rapid succession.

The musical tones merged with the sound of the river flowing past in the dark, its gurgle and tinkle a harmonized accompaniment to Obi-Wan's tentative music.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and listened. Each note seemed a drop of rain from a leaf into a pond, each one a widening circle of beauty into his heart and soul. They seemed to speak to him, caressing a part of him he didn't know existed, soothing him, reaching him along a shimmering golden bond that led back to -

Obi-Wan.

Hesitantly, he reached back along that golden strand, hardly daring to breathe within himself, and found a red strand wound around the gold. It wasn't far from Obi-Wan, but it was slowly and inexorably reaching for Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon realized that the honeyed music had become more tranquil...sweeter, if that was possible, and he opened his eyes to gaze upon the boy - no, no longer a boy. Young man, grown more handsome, self-confident, assured, with every passing day. He could be heard in the music.

Obi-Wan had closed his own eyes, lost in his notes. He wasn't even having to try...they fell unwittingly from his fingers, becoming a part of the land, the river, the trees, the fire, forever part of their collective primeval memory.

Forever part of Qui-Gon's heart.

Small walls fell somewhere within Qui-Gon. Brick by brick, the golden tendril of his padawan's music pushed through them, the brilliant red one coming closer and closer to creep gently, softly, past the shattering shield of the most private, guarded part of himself.

Qui-Gon thought he would suffocate with the beauty of it. He never knew he could feel like this.

I never knew I could feel like this. Obi-Wan marveled at the sensation, how the music seemed to make him feel as if he were floating, either in the air or on water, he couldn't tell. He allowed himself to drift along, and he saw a golden river, flowing away from him, towards a light of blue. The blue seemed almost sad, yet joyful at the passing of sadness, in the arrival of Obi-Wan along that bright golden ribbon. His own heart twisted at the thought of that blue light ever being sad.

Blue. The color of eyes he knew well. Eyes that had beheld him, in pride, in sternness, in twinkling amusement.

Blue. Deep and bright, brighter than any sky on any planet he'd ever been on.

Qui-Gon.

The blue touched...

Obi-Wan's hands faltered on the lilter and he caught himself before he dropped it on the ground, not trusting himself to look at his master.

Oh.

Adi looked up, having half-fallen asleep listening to the captivating music. "I think it's time we turned in," she said, looking around at the others, also beginning to nod their heads on their chests.

Stretching and yawning, with quiet good-nights and claps on shoulders, masters and padawans headed for their respective tents.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were the last to leave the fire.

Obi-Wan carefully placed the lilter in its carry case, and snapped the cover shut. Such a fine case, made of a soft gray leather. One of the aspiring artistic students had inscribed his name on it in blue.

Blue.

Chewing on his lower lip, he raised his head and looked at his master, still seated on a fallen log. Qui-Gon's head was down, as if in deep, contemplative thought. He seemed sad, almost.

Quietly he crossed the small space distancing them and dropped to one knee. "Are you all right, Master?" he asked with obvious concern in his voice.

I can't look at him...if I look at him, I'll...

"Master?"

A hand upon his knee. Warm, reassuring, even through his robes and leggings.

Taking a deep, quavering breath, an inwardly shaken Qui-Gon looked up into Obi-Wan's face...that beautiful face. A mole there on his right cheek, another on his forehead, had always marked him out as Obi-Wan. Eyes, never the same color each time one looked. Grey as any stormy sky, green as the flower fields of Naboo, blue as the river beside them. All three together, creating a palette that was as unique as Obi-Wan himself. Such eyes now looking at him in grave concern, that he might be ill or in pain.

Green.

Qui-Gon's gaze lowered to the hand on his knee. Such a young hand, yet so strong and capable. Qui-Gon slowly placed his own, older, larger, but no less strong hand upon the smaller one...and raised his eyes back to Obi-Wan.

Blue and green crashed together. Red and blue twined together. Walls within Obi-Wan began to shatter and fall in much the same manner as Qui-Gon's did. The force of the bond's creation caused them both to catch their breath, a sharp, nearly silent intake of air, suddenly, never looking away from each other's eyes.

Purple shimmered between them, darkening the light from the fire.

Breathe.

"I never knew..." Obi-Wan whispered.

"I know," Qui-Gon whispered back.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "What color is it for you?"

"Purple. Red and blue...twisting."

"For me too."

"Soul bonds are."

"Soul bonds?" Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, looking deeply into Qui-Gon's.

Qui-Gon reached to stroke one cheek with the back of his hand. Velvet. "We've created one, Padawan."

"But...how? I'm not sure what happened, but I don't want to change it..." Obi-Wan spoke in hushed awe.

"We can't. We didn't really have anything to do with it. Souls know who their mates are, and when the time is right and the pathway is shown...they bond." Qui-Gon replied softly, his hand turning to cup Obi-Wan's face.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, pressing his cheek into Qui-Gon's warm, soft palm.

"The music...I saw it as a golden strand, and at the end was a blue light..."

"Ah," breathed Qui-Gon. "I am the blue. You, my love, are red, coming along that gold, right to my heart. I thought I had shielded it well, but the music..." he trailed off in wonderment.

Obi-Wan looked astonished. "I did that?"

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "You did."

Taking Obi-Wan's hand within his own, Qui-Gon guided him to the log, settling him beside him. He wrapped one strong arm around his padawan's shoulders, pulling him close, and Obi-Wan settled his head against Qui-Gon, hearing his heartbeat, even, measured, ever reassuring. Qui-Gon bent his head to Obi-Wan's, resting his cheek upon the soft, short hair, breathing in the scent of river-water washed male.

The dying fire glowed from the embers, and it seemed to Qui-Gon as if it were reflecting the red and gold boy beside him. No, not a boy. A man. Glowing, strong, full of heat and life and...love.

Oh, how he loved him. Tears began to shine in his eyes.

Somehow, he had known that one day, a soul bond would form. He had only hoped it would be with Obi-Wan, but he certainly hadn't expected it so soon...Obi-Wan was still a padawan.

"Master?"

"Yes, love."

"I -I've loved you for so long." Obi-Wan's arms crept around Qui-Gon's large frame.

Qui-Gon smiled and hugged Obi-Wan tighter. "You must have for us to have created a soul-bond so early. I truly thought that if it were to happen with you, it would be after you were knighted."

"I'm twenty now...and I started building my shields when I was about...sixteen, I think."

Qui-Gon chuckled. He nodded his head, rubbing his cheek along Obi-Wan's hair. "That's about how long I've had mine in place, too, Padawan."

"I never knew..."

"It wasn't ours to know until now."

As the new couple sat there in contemplative silence, simply enjoying their newfound love, a soft rain began to fall around them, hissing in the dying fire, spattering their robes.

Reluctantly, Qui-Gon loosened his hold on Obi-Wan. "Come...it's time we went in. Don't forget your lilter."

Obi-Wan obediently stood and gathered up the instrument in its case, while Qui-Gon stirred the fire to help it burn out.

He strode to the tent, attempting to dodge raindrops, and turned to watch for Obi-Wan in the near-total darkness. Obi-Wan quickly walked up to his side, and, with a flash of grin, ducked inside. Qui-Gon followed, securing the tent flaps behind him. Inside, the tent was cozy. Two sleeping rolls laid out side by side, a small lamp on Qui-Gon's side, their packs along Obi-Wan's wall. Obi-Wan stowed his instrument case next to the packs, making sure it wouldn't tip or fall and damage the lilter nestled inside. He smiled to himself. I did that...created the pathway with the music.

Turning, he saw that Qui-Gon had divested himself of his robe and was sitting upon his bedroll, having lit the lamp, and was now beginning to unbuckle his boots.

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees before his master. "Please, Master, let me," he said, and he gently began to work the buckles, pulling off the boots one at a time, lining them up perfectly beside the bedroll.

He smiled up at Qui-Gon. Trust and hope and love outshone the lamp, and Qui-Gon's breath jerked unexpectedly.

A smile like a second sun.

With one finger, Qui-Gon traced Obi-Wan's face, from the top of his forehead, around his right cheek, up to his lips. Brushing his finger across them, they parted. He tucked his finger under the cleft chin, and leaned forward, barely breathing.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were falling. Soft lips, a tickle of beard, gently touched his own. An arm captured him around his back...he really had started to fall. Strong, safe arms encircled him and the kiss grew deeper.

Oh.

He moved his own lips in response and tentatively flickered his tongue towards Qui-Gon's softly questing mouth.

Electric jolts coursed through them both as their tongues met and intertwined.

Red. Blue. Purple.

With a shudder, Qui-Gon lay back on his bedroll, pulling Obi-Wan with him. He ran one hand down Obi-Wan's back and the other twisted in the closely cropped hair, twining around the padawan braid, never breaking the kiss, sealing it harder as Obi-Wan responded eagerly, if tentatively.

Obi-Wan was completely lost within Qui-Gon's mouth. He'd never been kissed before...he'd seen it, among his peers, being silly...but he'd never played the games. He'd felt he was supposed to wait.

Now he knew why he'd waited. Warm, gentle, moist. Soft...yet demanding. Tongue tracing his lips, teasing, tasting.

Gasping, he broke away and rose up on his hands to look at Qui-Gon. A light smile played across Qui-Gon's lips, as he searched Obi-Wan's eyes, looking for answers to questions not yet asked. Love for this young man overwhelmed Qui-Gon, and brought another tear to his eye.

Obi-Wan was committing Qui-Gon's face to memory...as if he needed to, but there was more to remember now. A look of love, a single blue tear to be shed, graying temples and beard belying the vibrant young man that was within him yet.

He leaned forward and gently kissed the tear away.

A sob escaped Qui-Gon, and he wrapped his arms about Obi-Wan, gripping him fiercely to his breast.

I never knew I could feel like this.

"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan..."

They lay crushed together, not daring to let go, for an indeterminable amount of time. Outside, the rain continued to patter softly upon the roof of the tent.

Just beneath Obi-Wan's cheek, he could hear the rumble of Qui-Gon's heart...faster than before. Thudding with a power so intense...thudding for him?

A bit of throat showed at the top of Qui-Gon's tunic. Obi-Wan placed a gentle kiss there, feeling the pulse reverberate against his lips.

A sigh escaped Qui-Gon...of longing, of love, of surrender to this sweet, heart-achingly beautiful boy.

Obi-Wan settled himself alongside Qui-Gon's body, marveling in the broad expanse of chest, length of legs, feeling this incredible man next to his own body. Resting his torso across Qui-Gon's chest, he gently worked his fingers into the long hair, untying the thong that held it back, massaging the scalp, combing strands out. He brought a lock to his face, inhaling its scent, feeling its softness. He stroked back errant wisps from his master's forehead, caressing. It was as if unseen hands were guiding him, to touch Qui-Gon this way.

Golden notes.

Qui-Gon captured Obi-Wan's face gently within his hands, bringing it down for another lingering kiss.

Obi-Wan felt himself begin to stir. He became, suddenly, aware of a hardened length against his thigh. Breathless, he sat up, grasping Qui-Gon's arms and urging him up to a seated position.

Their eyes locked again. The soft light from the lamp silhouetted Obi-Wan's form, just lighting his eyes.

Blue and green crashed together.

Red and blue twined tighter.

Golden music chimed, notes gently dripping like the rain.

Qui-Gon slipped warm hands beneath Obi-Wan's tunic, lifting it, pulling it over Obi-Wan's head.

Goosebumps in the sudden coolness were warmed away with hands, and breath, and lips. Obi-Wan's eyes closed, surrendering to the sensations of being loved, caressed, aroused.

Hearing singing in his mind, Obi-Wan felt himself lowered to the blankets. He felt a gentle lick to one nipple, a swirling tongue surrounding it, bringing it to a peak, then the other. Obi-Wan became acutely aware of the pressure of his penis against the fabric of his leggings, and he arched up, rubbing against Qui-Gon, gently, a small moan escaping him. He ran his hands under Qui-Gon's tunic, spanning the expanse of muscled back. With skimming feather touches, he felt the muscles ripple under his fingers and Qui-Gon rolled his back in response.

A pained growl rumbled quietly from Qui-Gon and he sat up and pulled his own tunic roughly over his head.

Soft sighs. Force, Qui-Gon is so beautiful, Obi-Wan thought to himself. Regal. Lamplight highlighted fine hairs across that massive chest, glowing. He reached to brush fingertips across them.

Beautiful.

Golden chimes, coming faster.

Crash.

Qui-Gon slowly slipped to the end of the bedroll, removing Obi-Wan's boots and socks, then gently tugging off his leggings, rubbing his hands along the skin he exposed, dropping gentle kisses here and there as Obi-Wan's body was revealed.

Ohhh ---

Red-gold boy. Red-gold man.

Force, what this boy does to me. How long I have waited...

Golden chimes.

Red and blue twined tighter.

Obi-Wan sat up and opened his arms to his master. Still holding Obi-Wan's body in awe, Qui-Gon allowed himself to be embraced. Obi-Wan rained slow sensual kisses upon the lined face, on his shoulders, across his chest, hands roaming across warm, now becoming damp, skin.

Qui-Gon stood; Obi-Wan felt momentarily bereft, his object of passion suddenly disappearing from his arms. His master stripped the rest of his clothing off and just stood there, chest rising and falling, gazing at his padawan, no longer a boy.

A man.

They held their positions for a time. The rain increased in intensity, beating a heavier staccato on the roof. Each stared steadily at the other, trying to control their breathing, drinking in the sights. Regal, strong man, standing there. Red-gold boy, sitting, waiting, wanting. The desire between them evident to them both.

Green and blue crashed together.

"You are...so beautiful, my padawan."

"So are you...you are like my music..."

Golden chimes intoning faster.

Qui-Gon slowly lowered himself to the bedroll, stretching along the top of Obi-Wan's body, while his padawan murmured, arms filled again, "...soft and strong and blending with me..."

Legs and arms entwined.

Lips touching, tongues questing, hips grinding.

Shafts rubbing together, nearly matched in size and length. Maddening. Exciting.

Gentle sighs and breaths became pants and gasps. Qui-Gon tasted his way down Obi-Wan's body, discovering the hollow of a hipbone, the small bruise and bump on his side from the fall into the river, savoring the dip of his navel, then resting his cheek briefly on the thatch of curly red-gold hair, sparking in the lamplight. Obi-Wan's breathing changed as he moved, from attempted control to gasps, to whispers of nothing.

Raising his head, he probed gently with his tongue along the tip of Obi-Wan's penis, the head already weeping for him. Obi-Wan's fingers twined in Qui-Gon's hair, gently tugging, his body arching for more.

Red and blue tendrils split into three strands, braiding together, more tightly than before.

Purple.

Golden notes harmonizing.

Gently, slowly, maddeningly slowly, Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan into his mouth. Licking, sucking, tasting. Obi-Wan writhed beneath him, moaning, not able to keep silent. The warm, wet, soft suction was driving him beyond any boundaries he had ever known before. He began to gently buck beneath Qui-Gon, begging wordlessly.

Qui-Gon cupped the velvety sac of Obi-Wan's testicles within one hand, gently squeezing, delighting in the ecstatic moans that emanated from this red-gold man beneath him. Obi-Wan became more frenzied in his movements and his hands gripped Qui-Gon's hair tighter and tighter.

Red and blue, braiding tighter.

Golden notes becoming louder, more insistent.

With a hoarse and unbidden cry, Obi-Wan came into Qui-Gon's mouth. Stars exploded behind his eyes...red, blue, gold, purple, white.

Purple.

"Master...master...," Obi-Wan's voice faltered, whispering. Qui-Gon slipped off of Obi-Wan and slid alongside him, cradling him to his chest, stroking his hair, while Obi-Wan's breathing quieted, ignoring his own need for the moment. He pressed a kiss to the top of Obi- Wan's head.

Obi-Wan sank against the comforting wall of Qui-Gon. He felt a little dizzy, and he kept hearing the music he had created earlier in the evening, on the lilter, repeating in his mind, faster and faster.

Golden chimes.

He slid one shaky hand down Qui-Gon's chest, noting the breathing, still heavy, the heart, still pounding. Sweat slick skin. He quested further to the shaft that was still stiff against Qui-Gon's belly. Gently stroking, from crown to base, he sought only to give as much pleasure to Qui-Gon as he had received.

"Master." Spoken breathlessly, the title was not given as a student to a teacher. It was infused with affection, lust, love. Trust. Obi-Wan was a virgin. He had saved himself for only his master.

"Padawan." So much said in a single word.

"I want to feel you in-inside me."

Gold.

"Love, have you ever...?" Qui-Gon searched Obi-Wan's eyes. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan shook his head. "I know I want you." Qui-Gon stroked at Obi-Wan's hair, touched by the trust his padawan put in him, in this matter of love.

Qui-Gon released his hold on Obi-Wan and moved to kneel between his legs. Green eyes followed him, unwilling to lose sight of his master. Balancing himself with one hand on Obi-Wan's raised knee, Qui-Gon reached over to his pack and found a tube of lotion, meant for soothing rough calluses on hands from gripping lightsaber handles. He warmed some in his palm, then began to stroke himself, not believing he could be any harder than he already was. Obi-Wan waited patiently, breathing quietly, his eyes never leaving Qui-Gon's hands.

Finally, gently, Qui-Gon placed one fingertip at the entrance to Obi-Wan's body. Obi-Wan's breath hitched. "Tell me if I hurt you, Padawan." Nothing but trust and love shone in his eyes.

"You won't hurt me."

Purple.

Qui-Gon ran his other hand along Obi-Wan's hip. "Just relax...breathe," he murmured, reassuring. He pressed on, one finger, two, three. Finding Obi-Wan's prostate, he just brushed it.

Obi-Wan began to toss his head from side to side, whimpering. "Now, Master, now...please...now..." His hands gripped the blankets, rending, his rekindled erection swaying back and forth with the motions.

Sliding his fingers gently out of Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon lifted lean legs onto his shoulders.

"Look at me, Obi-Wan. I want to see your eyes." Obi-Wan stilled his head and raised his eyes to Qui-Gon's, his chest heaving with breaths coming too fast to control.

Blue and green crashed together.

Red and blue waited...waited...

Qui-Gon felt his self-restraint rapidly disappearing. Muscles quivering, tense with need and expectation, he slowly pressed forward, into Obi-Wan.

His Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan moaned and he exhaled with a shudder, but his eyes did not break from his master's. Licking dry lips, he fought to maintain his focus on Qui-Gon's face.

Qui-Gon found himself sheathed fully within his padawan... oh FORCE...he's so beautiful, so tight and hot and OH Force...

He began to stroke Obi-Wan's shaft, hard against his smooth belly. Obi-Wan undulated beneath him, matching rhythm for rhythm, heartbeat for heartbeat, a musical tempo.

Red and blue, braiding, endless strands, braiding, braiding, stronger, tighter, faster, faster...

"I love you, Qui-Gon...Master...I love you, love you, love you...." Words borne away on gasping breaths, eyes still locked, unable to break away, tears falling, tears of love, of joy, of passion, mingling with the sweat shining on his neck.

Golden notes, reaching a crescendo.

Blue and green crashing, red and blue braiding, tighter, tighter, golden chimes louder, louder, a symphony.

Singing - two voices, duet.

Two bodies, straining towards completion, giving and taking, needing and sharing, finally reaching a release together, cries mingling, unable to tell one voice from the other, singing together the celebration of love.

Purple. Purple.

A single golden thread coiling along the newly fast bond, complete.

Qui-Gon collapsed onto Obi-Wan, utterly spent, breathing hard. Almost wearily, arms limp as rubber, Obi-Wan stroked Qui-Gon's back, his hair, kneading shoulders, finally clasping him to his chest, unwilling to let him go.

The rain had stilled. Drips from the leaves of the trees over the tent continued their steady plop, plop, plop.

Plop.

Obi-Wan looked up to the roof of the tent, trying to ascertain if they had a leak. He had most certainly felt a drop onto his shoulder. Plop.

Obi-Wan touched a finger tip to the drop and tasted it with his tongue. Salt.

Shifting, he and Qui-Gon lay next to each other, touching foreheads, stroking arms, legs entwined. Obi-Wan gently brushed another tear away from Qui-Gon's cheek.

"Why, Master? What is it? Have I done something wrong?"

Qui-Gon captured Obi-Wan's hand and pressed his lips to its palm. "Never, love."

He pulled Obi-Wan down and crushed him to his chest, pressing his cheek firmly to the red-gold hair. Obi-Wan listened to his lover's heart, drumming, steady, slowing from their passion.

"I just never knew...that I could feel like this." Qui-Gon's voice was almost a whisper. "I've waited all my life to feel a soul bond...and finally, finally I have it. I love you. Have loved you for so long."

Touched somewhere deep inside, Obi-Wan reached out along that bond, purple and gold, to plant a kiss in his lover's mind, and felt one return to him, gliding along that unbreakable link.

I'm so glad you waited for me.

Sleep.

Golden notes, lullabyes.

I love you.

The next morning dawned in pinks and blues, the rain moving on to the sea and leaving a crisp, fresh green world to greet them.

Adi Gallia kindled the fire and set water to boil for tea. She among them all loved the dawn the best, and almost never missed a sunrise. Different planets produced different colors, and all were the most beautiful sights she'd ever seen.

Small noises from her tent produced a sleepy-eyed Garen, stretching in the cool air. P'Lell emerged from hers, not a hair out of place, Sho-Ryn stumbling after, dropping a hug on Garen's shoulders as a good morning salutation.

Within Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's tent, all was still quiet. Wrapped in each other's arms, they had slept deeply, sharing dreams, painted in a palette of purples and golds.

The smell of steeping tea tickled Qui-Gon's nose, and he breathed deeply, mixing its light odor with the heavier musk of lovemaking and Obi-Wan's still river-scented hair, loving the sensation of awakening with purple shimmering before him and a new love in his arms.

Pulling back slightly, he looked down at Obi-Wan, still deep in sleep. Gold eyelashes curved gracefully along golden cheeks, a scruff of red-gold beard fuzzing his chin, hiding the cleft. Someday he'll let the beard grow...he'll look so much older.

Extreme tenderness gripped Qui-Gon's heart, and he traced one finger along the younger man's forehead, smoothing out the crease between the eyebrows...so serious, this young man. Studying so hard, practicing moves over and over until Qui-Gon was no longer sure he could win every sparring match.

He reached out with his mind, along that new, fresh bond, to touch his love gently, a good morning kiss, a breath.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, meeting Qui-Gon's immediately.

Green and blue crashed together.

"I- for a second, I thought it was all a dream," he breathed, reaching for Qui-Gon, kissing him thoroughly and with an ardor born of new love.

"'Twas no dream, love," softly replied Qui-Gon, once Obi-Wan had released his lips. "But it is morning, and as much as I would love to do nothing but lie here with you, it is time we were up. I think the rest are all out ahead of us."

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan extracted himself from the warm embrace of his master and the cocoon of the blankets. He dropped a quick kiss on Qui-Gon smiling mouth and then rummaged through his pack for clean leggings and tunics. Qui-Gon watched him, admiring the graceful body as it leaned and turned.

"Obi-Wan...I think it would be best if we not mention our new relationship to the others for now. This is something that we have to go to the Council with first." Qui-Gon spoke gently, but firmly.

Obi-Wan pondered that bit of information, then slowly nodded. "All right...if you say so, Master." He pulled his tunic over his head and as he emerged, found Qui-Gon, naked, standing so close to him that he was almost touching him.

Qui-Gon bent for a quick kiss. "You are so beautiful to me, Padawan. I want you to know that before we start our day."

Obi-Wan encircled Qui-Gon's neck with his arms and gave himself up to a questing tongue, returning kiss for kiss. "Thank you, Master. I have to say, you take my breath away, not dressed and kissing me."

As he stepped back, he shyly noted Qui-Gon's partial erection, and tossed a pair of leggings to him, grinning.

They finished dressing quickly and exited their tent, Qui-Gon, then Obi-Wan, blinking in the new sunlight.

"Good morning, sleepyheads!" P'Lell called out, waving a fork from the plate on her lap. "I made an omelette from some Brindie eggs...it's great! Hurry before Garen eats it all!"

Obi-Wan accepted good morning hugs from Sho-Ryn and Garen. "You look different today - did you comb your hair differently or something?" asked Sho-Ryn, quizzically studying his face.

"He still looks like the trainee padawan that fell in the river yesterday to me," teased Garen, ducking the mock blow Obi-Wan aimed at his head.

Qui-Gon regarded his padawan with pride. He did look different...an aura...of purple and gold. Obi-Wan flashed a grin at him, and headed for some hot water to facilitate shaving off the reddish whiskers.

Adi Gallia stood, her plate empty, looking at the sunrise again.

"It's so beautiful. I've never seen anything like it. It's gone from pinks and blues to purples and golds."

Obi-Wan turned from his toiletry and gazed at the colors. In awe, he looked back at Qui-Gon, who met his eyes steadily, a smile growing there, love and adoration shining back at him.

"Say, do you all hear singing? I swear, I'm hearing music," Sho-Ryn commented. "Must be the beauty of the sunrise, or echoes of Obi-Wan's lilter from last night." She smiled at the memory of the pretty notes.

Purple and gold shimmered between them. Green and blue crashed together. Golden notes dropped from the sky, musical.

"Yes, I hear it too," murmured Qui-Gon, turning to look at the sunrise again, as Obi-Wan came to stand at his left, and he placed his hand upon the boy's - no, young man's, shoulder.

Love notes.