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Arms intertwined, they made their way wordlessly back to the Moonflower grove. After passing through the large gates, they found their way down a path into the heart of the grove by moonlight. Obi-Wan found it hard to believe that he'd first met the twins there only two nights prior -- it seemed like weeks ago. So much had changed. And more was about to change, he realized nervously.

As if reading his thoughts, Jalet pulled them off of the path and under a particularly thick and low-hanging tree. Obi-Wan was surprised to see that the spot had been prepared in advance. A large blanket was spread on the ground, and a basket was set off to the side near the trunk of the tree.

Jalet turned to Obi-Wan and pulled him into an embrace. "This," he whispered, lips ghosting over the young Jedi's cheek, "is the best spot in the grove. It's private..." A sensual kiss at the point where his jaw line met his ear. "And quiet..." Another kiss, this time an inch lower on his neck.

"And just big enough for the three of us," Jema's voice pulled his attention to the other side of his body, where her hands were sliding under his loose shirt to stroke his chest, her warm breath against his ear.

He fell to the ground, using the Force to pull the twins with him and cushion their fall. They gasped in surprise, but giggled. His hand slipped behind Jema's head to pull her down into a kiss. Her lips parted under his insistent tongue and she pressed her body against his hungrily. He groaned as her fingers slid down toward the waist of his trousers, stopping to tease his navel.

"All right, you two, take it easy," Jalet said softly. "First things first."

Jema broke the kiss and leaned over Obi-Wan, propped up on an elbow. The fire in her eyes was an amazing sight, and he wanted nothing more than to devour her at that moment. She traced the outline of his lips with an index finger, pulling it away teasingly when he tried to take it into his mouth.

"Patience, Obi. You'll like this."

"I like this," he said straining up to kiss her. She allowed it for a moment before pressing him back down with surprising strength. Grinning, she sat up and glanced at her brother.

Jalet rummaged through the basket and pulled out two small objects. One was somewhat cylindrical in shape with a bowl-like depression on one end. The prince removed the pouch of Moonflower petals from his pocket and filled the depression with some of the dried substance, packing it in carefully.

Gradually, it dawned on Obi-Wan what was happening. The other object was an incendiary device that was used to light the dried petals in the pipe, while Jalet inhaled from the other end several times. Without exhaling, he handed the pipe and lighter to Jema. Obi-Wan watched, fascinated, as the young man exhaled slowly, a tendril of bluish smoke rising from between his lips. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the blanket with a moan of pleasure.

Jema handed the pipe to Obi-Wan. "Let me help you now, before I'm too happy to do so." She nodded at Jalet, flat on his back and looking quite content.

Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, beginning to run through a list of reasons why he shouldn't smoke this... stuff... with his new friends. The fact that the clenasyn was altered chemically by heat worried him slightly, but the twins had clearly done this before. He looked back at Jema, who was smiling at him.

It couldn't be any different from the tea, really. Same principle. Sort of. He nodded and took the pipe.

"You have to cover the hole with your finger... yeah, like that, and here..."

He took the lighter, held it as she indicated, lit it, and inhaled as he'd seen Jalet do. The sensation of the smoke filling his lungs was very strange, though it didn't trigger a coughing fit as he'd expected. He held the smoke for as long as he could, handing the pipe back to Jema.

The clenasyn hit him in what could only be described as a wave of sheer warmth, cascading down his body, triggering pleasure centers he didn't know he had. He had never imagined feeling that good.

"Ahh..." He was exhaling now, and the blue smoke curled upwards as he sank back down. The blanket under him was incredibly soft and warm, cradling his body. His skin was incredibly sensitive, and the soft cloth brushing against him at the slightest movement sent shivers of pleasure through him.

He could not have been sure how much time had passed when he became aware of Jema lying beside him, one of her legs wrapped around one of his, her hand caressing his chest. He turned his head toward her with a good deal of effort. Her brown eyes were gazing into his, and she smiled.

"That was amazing," he whispered. "I've never felt anything like it." She grinned and rolled smoothly on top of him, pulling his shirt open to bare his chest. The sensation of her clothing and weight against his skin was astonishing. He had never felt so aware of his own body. His heart pounded, and he felt a flush spread across his face and chest.

"It's amazing to make love after you take a hit," she said, her hands skimming across his skin. "It intensifies everything."

"I believe you. Kiss me."

She first pulled her short dress up over her head and tossed it aside. He was not really surprised that she was naked underneath, though he wondered why he hadn't noticed it earlier. Her dark hair was wildly arranged around her face as a result of quickly undressing, and it brushed against her shoulders as her arms returned to her sides. His eyes traveled down from her freckle-framed face to her breasts to the small patch of carefully groomed hair between her lags. She was straddling him at the hips, and as she lifted her body slightly to move closer to him, he glimpsed the soft skin of her sex shadowed between her thighs.

He was harder than he'd ever been in his life, and suddenly uncertain how long he could hope to last. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

Then her warm wet mouth covered his and her tongue found entrance. He was lost in sensation, only feeling her lips, her tongue, her hands... and then warmth and wetness and...

"Ohhh, Force..."

She had somehow pushed his trousers down below his hips without him realizing it, and impaled herself on him. The sensation was more than he could have imagined -- warm and wet and soft and tight... and friction... /seven Sith hells this feels good/... She had leaned back into a sitting position and was riding him now, moving her hips in ways that changed the amount of friction he felt in a glorious pattern of heat and pressure.

He held off his climax as long as he could, sensing that she needed more, more time, harder... but he couldn't take any more of this delicious torture... his climax claimed him hard, crying out Force knows what... beautiful release... another wave of pleasure centered at his center...

Taking shaky breaths, he opened his eyes to see Jema smiling at him. She lifted her body so that he slid out of her, shockingly sensitive now. She curled up at his side.

"You didn't... I'm sorry..."

She kissed his cheek. "Don't worry. I knew it was your first time, and you'd need to take the edge off."

He turned and kissed her as tenderly as he could. "I will make it up to you."

She grinned. "Yes, you will."

Her head settled onto his shoulder. He inhaled, still recovering from what was the most amazing orgasm he'd ever experienced. /Well, the first one with another person, anyway./

He was suddenly embarrassed. "Was it that obvious, that it was my first time?"

He couldn't see her face, and was glad she couldn't see his, but he could since her confusion at the question.

After a moment, she said, "Well, I guess I assumed it was, since you have just turned 18. But then, I understand that the customs of Primale are different than in many places in the galaxy."

"Yes, that they are," he murmured, stroking her hair as she snuggled in closer. He suddenly realized that they were alone. "Where's Jalet?"

Her head popped up and she scanned the area. "He was probably just giving us some privacy. He'll be back soon."

"Will he be offended that..." Obi-Wan wasn't sure how to ask the question.

Jema understood. "No. Actually...we flipped a coin earlier today to see who would get to be your first." She grinned and ducked her head, suddenly embarrassed.

"Really?" He laughed, relieved that the decision had been made for him. "Have you ever... shared someone with him before?"

"No. We talked about doing this before, but we couldn't find the right person, someone who would truly want both of us."

"Well, you found me then. I definitely want both of you. It's all I've been able to think about since Firstnight."

A rustling nearby caught their attention. Jalet sat on the ground next to them, pipe in hand. "I don't know about you," he said, fishing for the lighter, "but my buzz is wearing off."

"Here," Jema held out her hand. "I'll go first and make myself scarce." She winked at Obi-Wan, and lit the pipe. He watched her for a moment, taking the pipe from her as she exhaled, sinking back onto her elbows with an expression of bliss on her lovely face.

Obi-Wan turned his head towards Jalet, who was watching him with a smile, brown eyes sparkling. He couldn't help reaching up and combing his fingers through Jalet's unruly dark hair, so different from his own. His fingers traced the outline of the young man's face, lingering over lips momentarily. Jalet opened his mouth and sucked in one finger, fixing his eyes on Obi-Wan's. He sucked in his breath at the sensation of tongue swirling around his finger, slick warmth and wetness... he closed his eyes, trying to savor the sensation. The chemical buzz in his brain was fading, but his body was still incredibly sensitive.

His finger was released and his mouth was covered with lips that crushed his own hungrily. Somehow it wasn't enough. He needed more, to feel more of Jalet's body against his own. He rolled over onto the other man, pinning his hands above his head and kissing him hard. His tongue pressed insistently into Jalet's mouth, and the prince moaned hungrily, wriggling slightly under Obi-Wan in an effort to maximize contact.

Obi-Wan had lost his shirt at some point, and desperately needed to feel the heat of the prince's skin against his chest. He clasped the prince's two hands in one of his own, and with the other ripped his shirt open. Jalet whimpered under his mouth. Obi-Wan was dimly aware that he was being rough, that he wasn't thinking, just feeling -- but Jalet seemed to be enjoying it.

Their erections rubbed against each other through their trousers, sending a jolt of sensation up Obi-Wan's spine. He broke the kiss with a gasp, staring down at Jalet.

Jalet's eyes smoldered, his breathing ragged. "Yes, please... Want you..."

Obi-Wan froze. "I... Jalet, I don't know what to do. I really want you, Force, I want you, but I've never done this before, and I..." He knew he was gushing, but he didn't care. He was overwhelmed by the force of his own passion, but frustrated by the fact that he wasn't sure how to proceed.

Jalet smiled. "Let's slow down then. We have all night." He shifted his body slightly, and Obi-Wan felt their erections stroke against each other again. He sucked in his breath sharply. Jalet grinned. "Let go of my hands -- I want to show you something." Obi-Wan complied, a little embarrassed. Jalet slid out from under him, and kissed him softly. "Don't get me wrong, I really liked it. I'd like you to do that again."

He kissed Obi-Wan again, then kissed his way slowly down his neck, his chest... Obi-Wan rolled onto his back, closing his eyes at the sensation of lips and tongue and teeth on his skin. Jalet's tongue traced around a nipple slowly, before his lips closed around it and he sucked gently.

If he'd had the ability to be self-conscious at that point, Obi-Wan would probably have been mortified by the sounds of pleasure he was making. He could not have imagined that his nipples would be that sensitive. And to think that his plan was to just go for Jalet's cock...

A sharp bite made him gasp, followed by a moan at the flicking tongue that soothed the pain away quickly. There seemed to be a direct connection between his nipples and his cock, which was painfully hard. Jalet's mouth moved across his chest to pay attention to the other nipple. He moaned incoherently at the delicious torture of it all, the building of the sensations. Jalet's tongue left a wet trail down his stomach to his navel, where it circled and dipped and swirled for a moment before making its way further south.

Jalet loosened the tie on his trousers and slid them carefully down Obi-Wan's hips, urging him to lift them slightly to ease the process. The trousers were removed completely, and Jalet began his ministrations again on Obi-Wan's feet, kissing the soles, drawing a toe into his mouth. Obi-Wan had difficulty controlling his breathing as the prince kissed his way up the inside of his thigh, tongue drawing a wet line up to what was now the center of his being.

After an intense moment, he felt hot breath on his balls. He gasped at that; he couldn't help it. He had heard his agemates make jokes about oral sex, but he had never been able to begin to imagine what it would feel like. The hot breath ghosted up the shaft to the head of his cock, which was now leaking fluid. Then a long cool breath was directed at the tip, and the sensation of air over wetness brought a sharp coolness that made his cock twitch in anticipation. He half-laughed, half-moaned, drinking in the feeling -- glorious anticipation, nearly painful now.

A hot, wet tongue stroked the length of his shaft. "Oh, Force..." He heard Jalet laugh, could sense the young man's thrill at seeing his pleasure.

"Tell me what you want," he heard, and felt the breath against his balls.

/What do I want? Isn't it obvious?/ He took a deep breath. "I want your mouth," was all he could think of to say, incapable of speech much more complicated than that.

"Like this?" he heard, just before his cock was engulfed in a warm wet mouth. He cried out hoarsely at the sensation, stunned by the intimacy of it, by the sheer pleasure that he felt. It felt different from being inside Jema, the swirling tongue and slight suction having a different effect on his senses. Jalet's tongue flicked on the underside of the head for a delicious moment, before taking him in deeply and sucking strongly as he pulled back, his tongue stroking the underside of his shaft. One of the prince's hands cupped his balls while the other gripped the base of his cock. Long strokes with his mouth were complemented by his hand moving opposite, stroking downward as his mouth worked its way toward the head, then upwards on spit-slicked skin as his cock was swallowed yet again.

The rhythm built slowly, steadily, as Obi-Wan's breathing staggered. He fought the compulsion to twine his fingers in Jalet's hair and control the rhythm himself, instead grasping handfuls of the blanket in his hands. His cries of pleasure could certainly have been heard by anyone walking down the path, he would realize later. The pressure of his orgasm was building steadily. He tried to hold it off, to prolong this experience as much as he could.

A slick finger pressed at the opening of his body and twisted its way inside. He gasped at the sensation of that intimate invasion, completely unexpected and a little uncomfortable...

The finger stroked a spot within him that he did not know was there, could not have imagined, and the orgasm hit him like a wall of energy. He was dimly aware that he screamed, releasing his pleasure vocally, physically. And then he was not aware of anything but Jalet's mouth gently sucking his cock clean and releasing him, crawling up his body to stroke his face and kiss his forehead.

"That sounded like you really enjoyed it." A touch of deserved smugness in that voice.

"Mmmm..." was all Obi-Wan could manage. "Hunh." He opened his eyes, which refused to focus at first. "That was incredible."

Jalet smiled and kissed him tenderly. Obi-Wan tasted himself on the other man's tongue, an erotic reminder of what had just happened. And of what had not happened.

"What about you?" he asked, suddenly aware that he had come twice tonight, while not returning the favor for either of his partners.

"Yes, I have a plan for that as well," Jalet grinned. "But first, I think it's teatime." He sat up and found the pipe where Obi-Wan had dropped it earlier. He lit it and took a few hits before handing it to Obi-Wan, and sank back onto the blanket. Obi-Wan shifted the pipe in his hand for a moment, feeling increasingly guilty about the prominent bulge in his friends' trousers.

He lit the pipe, inhaling more easily this time. Jema appeared in front of him and leaned in grinning, pressing her open mouth against his as he exhaled, inhaling the still potent smoke. He pulled her down next to him as he lay back against Jalet, the rush of clenasyn in his blood noticeably different from the feeling of orgasm he'd just experienced. It was centered at the base of his skull, and the pleasure was more pure, less animalistic.

He spooned his body behind Jalet's, pulling Jema behind him, comfortably sandwiched between the twins. He smiled.

Jalet seemingly read his thoughts. "This gives me an idea."

Obi-Wan laughed, kissing his shoulder, and slipped his arm around the prince's waist. "And just what would that be?" His fingers grazed the other man's still-hard cock.

"Mmmm... well... Turn over and I'll show you what I have in mind."

Jema giggled. "I think I dreamed about this last night." The three of them turned around so that Obi-Wan's chest was pressed against Jema's back, and Jalet was behind him, hard cock pressing into his buttocks through a layer of cloth. He had a picture firmly implanted in his mind of the three of them together like this -- he had been thinking of it for days -- and amazingly found himself growing hard again at the thought.

His erection pressed into Jema firmly, and he pulled the fabric of her dress up to access bare skin.

"Why am I the only one who's naked here?" he whispered. Jema shifted her hips back and he slid his shaft between her thighs, still feeling the wetness of their previous encounter on the soft folds of skin there.

Behind him, Jalet disappeared for a moment -- and then warm bare skin pressed against the length of him from behind. Jema leaned away from him enough to pull her garment over her head again, and the three of them lay there pressed against each other, breathing unsteadily, for a long moment.

Obi-Wan felt Jalet's lips on his shoulders, his hardness pressed into the cleft of his buttocks. He kissed the back of Jema's neck, and slipped his hand between her thighs to touch the warm wet skin he found there. She moaned softly when his fingers found a sensitive nub, and he kept them there, swirling gently.

Jalet's hands were stroking his buttocks, dipping tantalizingly close to sensitive areas. He was enveloped in raw sensation, the clenasyn pulsing through his veins, every inch of his skin exquisitely sensitive.

They stayed like that for a few long minutes, touching, teasing each other with hands, lips delicately pressed against sensitive areas along shoulders and necks, with Obi-Wan in the center of it all.

"Get on your hands and knees," Jalet whispered hoarsely before pulling away from him. He complied, pulling Jema up with him. She sat in front of him, kissing him, while Jalet kissed his way down Obi-Wan's spine slowly.

And kept going lower... Obi-Wan was genuinely startled to feel Jalet's tongue slowly trace a hot wet path between his buttocks. The destination was clear, and he briefly thanked the Force that he'd taken such a thorough shower that afternoon.

The tongue slowly circled the entrance to his body, and he broke the kiss with Jema to gasp at the sensation. He'd heard of this intimate act, and had previously found the thought of it a bit disgusting, but now... He could not have imagined that it would feel so good.

"You like that, don't you?" Jema whispered hoarsely into his ear. She sucked on an earlobe as he groaned. "You like it when he fucks you with his tongue?"

At that instant, Jalet did just that, and he felt the hot wet organ pierce into his body, sending a shockwave up his spine. /How did she know...?/ The tongue retreated and pressed in again, deeper this time, fucking him slowly.

"Oh, yes, that... aaahhhh..." Words weren't accomplishing much at that point. He became dimly aware of Jema sliding down underneath him to take his hard shaft into her mouth, working him with as much skill as her brother had earlier. Warmth and wetness engulfed him at two of the most sensitive and intimate places on his body.

Jalet's tongue was pressing deep into his ass, much deeper than he would have thought possible, while Jema sucked his cock, swirling her tongue around the head with every stroke. He rode the wave of sensation, noting with detached relief that he was able to control his body's responses more easily now. He didn't want to come, not yet.

The twins pulled away simultaneously, eliciting a moan from him again. His eyes met Jema's, and the raw passion he saw there spurred him into action. He pushed her onto her back and pressed her thighs apart. Still on his knees, he leaned forward to trace his tongue along the swollen folds between them. She sucked in her breath sharply and twined her fingers in his hair, urging him on.

Jalet materialized behind him, urging his hips up into the air. The position was a bit awkward, but he managed to continue pleasuring Jema. At least, she seemed to be enjoying herself. He tried not to think about the fact that he had no idea what he was doing.

His thoughts were interrupted by something cold and slick pressed against his anus. He felt Jalet's hand rubbing in a circular motion on his lower back, and realized that the cold substance was lubrication, which was being swirled around on Jalet's fingers.

One slick finger pressed deep into him, turning slightly, and was withdrawn completely. The fingertip swirled around his anus before penetrating him again, going even deeper this time. He found himself moaning between Jema's thighs as Jalet began to slowly fuck him with one finger.

"Yes, you like that don't you?" Jema whispered hoarsely, meeting his glazed eyes with her own.

He responded by slipping one finger into her, withdrawing it slowly, pressing into her in the same rhythm with which he was himself being penetrated.

"More," they both said simultaneously.

Obi-Wan pressed a second finger into Jema, finding the warmth and softness engulfing them intensely erotic. Then he felt Jalet press a second finger into him and lost his concentration altogether. The sensation of fingers twisting inside him as they pressed in and pulled out was intense. The pressure was uncomfortably tight, but it felt good also, he found that he wanted more, harder, faster...

A third finger was added, and he felt a twinge of pain. His body tensed as he began to realize what was coming next. The fingers pressed in further. He gritted his teeth, starting to panic. Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all.

Jema slid away momentarily and returned with the pipe in her hand. She held it to his lips, lighter ready. "Trust me," she said, smiling. "This is experience talking here."

Jalet's fingers continued to twist inside him. The pain was gone, but he knew that Jalet's cock was bigger than three fingers... Jalet kissed his back softly, patiently.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. It suddenly occurred to him exactly how vulnerable a position he was in, on his hands and knees, about to be penetrated anally, with an offer of a narcotic to sedate him before he could change his mind. This scenario was light years from even his darkest fantasies. But he trusted his friends, and the Force was quiet around him.

He opened his eyes. "Trust me," Jema whispered again, so softly that he almost didn't hear it. Jalet's fingers were gone, and the man had moved away. Obi-Wan realized with a jolt that he was preparing himself for--

He nodded, and Jema held the pipe to his lips, lighting it. He inhaled, and she pulled it away quickly, giggling. "That's enough, now. We don't want you incapacitated, just relaxed."

He held the smoke in his chest until the clenasyn began to sweep through his body. He exhaled, feeling his legs give beneath him, but he didn't hit the ground. His thoughts were a swirl of color, of pleasure, of warmth, of fullness, of...

He realized that Jalet was sheathed inside him, and stroking his lower back slowly with one hand. It was a little uncomfortable, but the hit had distracted him from the pain of penetration. He laughed, relieved.

"How's that feel?" he heard Jalet whisper.

"Good," he managed. And it was true, much to his surprise. Really good.

Jalet moaned. "You are so fucking tight. Sh'tra..."

Jema slid underneath him, on her hands and knees, and slowly impaled herself on his erection. He exhaled slowly, reeling from the sensation of penetrating and being penetrated at the same time.

They stayed like that for a moment.

"Ummm, how do we...?"

"Just stay still," Jalet whispered. "Let us do the work."

The twins started moving simultaneously, Jalet withdrawing slowly, Jema leaning forward until just the tip of his cock was still inside her. At the same moment, they pressed in towards him, Jalet filling him, and Jema enveloping him.

And it felt really good.

They continued like that, slowly, building a rhythm, in complete coordination. Obi-Wan would later wonder if they truly were telepathic. The sensations coursing through his body were indescribable. As the rhythm sped up, he lost control, moaning incoherently at times, and very coherently and profanely at others. He managed to slip his hand around Jema to touch her, eliciting soft cries, building.

Jalet was fucking him in earnest now, hard heat pressing in and filling him, stroking his prostate, while Jema was riding his cock, enclosing him in heat and warmth, squeezing him as she pulled away, warm, wet, hot, pressure, filling, filled...

Jema's words fell into a distinct pattern, though he couldn't understand them -- she was coming, but crying out in her native language. Her body convulsed beneath him, and he couldn't hold back any longer, those rhythmic pulses of her body squeezing him pushing him over the edge. His climax crashed through him, and he cried out, legs turning to jelly. Jalet pumped into him furiously, then shouted something he couldn't understand before finally slumping against him.

They remained that way for several long minutes, limbs and other body parts intertwined in a heap, thoroughly sated.

Several hours later, a very sated young Jedi padawan stretched out on the blanket between the twins. Jema was dozing lightly, after one too many hits from the pipe, a dazed smile on her lovely face. Obi-Wan watched her for a long moment, remembering the exquisite expression on her face as she came beneath him.

He had tried again to bring her to orgasm orally, and had licked and sucked until his tongue was numb from the effort. She had clearly enjoyed it, but finally pulled him up over her body, fire in her eyes, saying, "Fuck me," in a way that made him nearly come right then and there.

Afterwards, he apologized for his earlier failure, but she laughed and kissed him softly.

"Oh, Obi-Wan, don't worry about it. It felt great." She traced her tongue across his swollen lips. "Besides," she continued softly, "sometimes you just need a big hard cock ramming into you, more than anything."

"Yeah," he grinned, "I know what you mean."

He'd had more success with Jalet later, finding that he had a "natural affinity for cocksucking," as the prince had put it. It was somehow easier to figure out what to do, and to read his lover's body language. He could imagine what would feel good to him, and that seemed to be quite effective.

He enjoyed the experience more than he had expected to. The skin on Jalet's penis was soft, and the sensation of it on his tongue was glorious. He couldn't seem to get enough of the warmth and hardness, almost instinctively sucking and licking with abandon.

When Jalet came, the sensation of his mouth being filled with hot bitter liquid had shocked him more than anything. He panicked momentarily, gagging a little as the stream hit the back of his throat, and held it in his mouth for a moment, uncertain. He knew he should swallow, that to spit would be fairly offensive, but he really hadn't thought that far ahead when he'd first taken that hard shaft into his mouth. He finally set his jaw and swallowed, glad that Jalet still had his eyes closed so he couldn't see Obi-Wan flinch slightly. The taste, he reflected, wasn't really that bad at all.

Jalet was stretched out on his back, boneless, and Obi-Wan was rock-hard. He used the Force to call the lube into his hand, and spread some of the cool gel over his shaft, startled at the sensation of his own hand moving so slickly over his skin. He stroked himself slowly.

Jalet opened his eyes and grinned. "Save some of that for me." He rolled over onto his stomach, parting his thighs as much as he could.

Obi-Wan stared for a moment, realizing what he was about to do.

He leaned down to kiss Jalet softly, and then slipped a finger into his body, preparing his lover as he had been so carefully prepared earlier. Jalet hissed in pleasure as Obi-Wan withdrew the finger slowly, twisting it in an attempt to loosen the tight muscle at the entrance. He soon added another finger, fucking Jalet slowly. The prince's hips began to rock against his hand.

"Please, now..." he grunted. "I want to feel you inside me..."

No further encouragement needed. Obi-Wan slipped to his knees and pressed the head of his cock against the opening to Jalet's body. Penetration wasn't as easy as it had been with Jema, and he worried that he was hurting his lover as he pressed slowly in. Jalet groaned slightly and Obi-Wan stopped, but the prince urged him on. After a long moment, he was finally completely sheathed in Jalet's body. Unsure what to do, he waited for the tightness around his cock to ease, trying not to move, though he felt an overwhelming urge to thrust.

"Okay, that's good," Jalet whispered, turning his head as much as he could. Obi-Wan leaned his body forward and kissed him tenderly. "Don't get sweet on me now," Jalet laughed. "I want to be fucked... fast and hard." His eyes sparkled.

Obi-Wan had started thrusting slowly, teasing, relishing the tight slick heat that engulfed him. It felt very different from being inside Jema, and he wasn't sure which sensation he preferred. Before long, his own need took over, and he thrust his hips hard, ramming into Jalet with as much force as he could manage in that position. Jalet expressed his approval and pleasure loudly.

Obi-Wan came hard, crying out something in Huttese that he would later laugh about. He stayed hard for a few minutes more, and continued thrusting into Jalet until he came as well.

Jema soon rematerialized, and the threesome smoked Moonflower petals until they were delirious with pleasure and contentment, drifting off to sleep intertwined with each other. Obi-Wan's bladder had finally awakened him.

Jema and Jalet did not stir as he shakily pulled himself to his feet. Standing took more effort than he expected, and he quickly leaned against a tree for balance. The world began to spin, and for a moment he thought he would be sick.

/Oh, I think I overdid it./ He leaned against the tree trunk and took deep breaths until his stomach had settled somewhat. Staggering, he wound his way deeper into the grove to find a spot to relieve himself.

Unfortunately, he had not had the presence of mind to note which direction he had been walking, or even to take note of his surroundings in order to find his way back to his friends. /Some Jedi. Get lost in a fucking orchard./

He tried to center himself, reaching out in the Force for a familiar presence. Sensing one nearby, he began to slowly make his way towards it.

Qui-Gon took a long drag on the joint and handed it back to Hema. Blue smoke curled up from his lips slowly as he exhaled, stretching back onto the blanket. She sat nearby, stroking his bare thigh with one foot. He closed his eyes and sighed as the wave of clenasyn washed over him.

It was one of the most exquisite sensations he'd ever felt. Qui-Gon had free-based spice once, while on an undercover mission, years ago. He had spent nearly a standard year working to infiltrate a spice cartel, one of his first solo missions as a knight. He'd managed to avoid using any drugs for months, but he'd finally been backed into a corner. A particularly suspicious Hutt had asked him to test the quality of a new shipment by sampling it. It quickly became clear that he could not refuse without revealing his cover, and so he'd agreed. Cool on the outside, he was terrified on the inside. He'd seen enough people do it to be able to complete the preparations himself, but he'd also seen the aftereffects.

As he inhaled the wisp of blood-red smoke through the dealer's proffered glass pipe, he focused on purging his system of the substance as quickly as possible.

He couldn't do it quickly enough. The sensation had been unbelievable, and he stopped trying to expunge it almost immediately, delirious with pleasure. Days later, shaking from withdrawal and vomiting hourly, he had developed a new sympathy for drug addicts.

He never thought he'd feel anything that came so close to that again, but smoking clenasyn was certainly approaching that experience. It didn't have the mind-numbing paralyzing effect of spice, but it felt every bit as good. In many ways, it was better.

A warm body suddenly snuggled against his side, bringing him out of his thoughts. He didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Obi-Wan."

"Master." His apprentice nestled closer yet, pressing his face into Qui-Gon's neck and draping one arm and one leg across his body. Qui-Gon was dimly aware that they were both naked. He wasn't sure why his apprentice was there. Wasn't he spending the night with the twins? Was it morning already? The younger man's body felt so good pressed against his, warm and slightly sweaty, as if they fit together perfectly.

"Obi-Wan," he whispered, sliding his arms around the younger man and hugging him close. He pressed a kiss onto the top of his apprentice's head. One hand slid up to comb fingers through the spiky hair, and the other slid down to stroke his back. Hard muscles relaxed slightly under his touch. The curve of the his spine was so inviting, and his hand slid further down quite naturally to cup the supple swell of the younger man's ass.

"Master," Obi-Wan whispered again, lips brushing against Qui-Gon's neck. He couldn't help but moan as the lips brushed against his skin again and again, now on his chest, and there was a tongue flicking one nipple to hardness, then sucking, hands smoothing across his chest, hands teasing his hardening shaft, another mouth on his other nipple, biting and licking...

He could still count, and there were two mouths and two pairs of hands caressing him. In his drug-induced haze, he couldn't tell which was his apprentice and which was Hema.

As a hot mouth engulfed his cock, he realized that he didn't want to know.

He sucked in his breath sharply, biting his lower lip in a futile attempt not to cry out as a talented mouth began working his swollen cock in earnest. It was so hot and wet, just enough suction, a little teeth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head with every upward stroke -- just like he liked it. The other mouth continued its attention to one of his nipples, tongue flicking the hardened nub roughly.

He dimly realized he had never been with two people at once, and that he should reciprocate somehow. He reached out with his left hand towards the head of the person fellating him.

Then he paused. Would he find long thick waves of hair on that head, or the spiky padawan cut of his apprentice? And did he want to know? If it really was his apprentice who was sucking his cock... he pushed the thought away roughly and clasped his hands behind his head, pulling his own hair hard to distract himself from that thought.

The person between his thighs circled the entrance to his body with a slick fingertip, and he gasped, "Oh, yes, please!" The finger slipped inside and slowly began stroking him, sending bolts of pleasure through his abdomen.

If it really was his Obi-Wan, he knew he should put a stop to this at once. The boy was clearly intoxicated, and this was definitely an inappropriate situation for Qui-Gon to allow to continue. But it might be Hema... fucking him with two fingers now, curling them just so to stroke his prostrate. "Oh, fuck, that feels..." She hadn't done that earlier. Didn't mean it couldn't be her now.

Another hand stroked his balls, and another grasped the base of his cock, stroking in time with the mouth that was... wait, that made three hands. /Stop thinking/, he admonished himself. /Live in the fucking moment./

Everything was so quiet suddenly, and the sensation of floating just on the edge of orgasm filled him. At any moment, he could fall over the edge, but he was momentarily suspended, hanging by a thread of reality, not wanting this fantasy to be over.

He heard a moan, distinctively masculine. The fingers inside him stopped stroking and flicked intensely against the spot that--

He fell, screaming, over the precipice, hips thrashing up wildly into that wonderful mouth, bursts of red and gold behind his eyelids. He could feel his cock pulse into his lover's mouth, and he didn't care who it was.

It was the most intense orgasm he'd ever had in his life. He felt the tears coming, and didn't try to stop them. They slipped out from under his eyelids and slid across his cheek and into his ears. He couldn't lift his hand to wipe them away. He couldn't move at all.

The mouth on his softening organ carefully sucked him clean and pulled away. He desperately wanted to hold him -- or her -- but couldn't open his eyes, or make his boneless arms move at all. He whimpered.

After a long moment, he heard a rustling sound, and then he was fiercely kissed. He opened his mouth willingly to the invading tongue, tasting himself there, and he managed to entwine his hands in... long wavy hair, which had been twisted into a quick braid. The braid came apart in his hands now as he wrenched Hema down hard, forcing himself to taste his semen on her tongue, forcing himself to believe that it was her, had been her.

"Oh, Hema," he moaned. He really had believed that it was Obi-Wan, and he was deeply surprised at his disappointment that it wasn't his apprentice who'd given him so much pleasure.

He pushed Hema away roughly and sat up, glancing around wildly. She stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Where's Obi-Wan?"

She regarded him curiously for a moment before shaking her head.

He closed his eyes. Had he imagined it? Was it a drug-induced hallucination? /No, he was here, next to me./

He opened his eyes again.

"Are you all right?" Hema whispered, stroking his cheek.

He met her concerned gaze and tried to smile. "Yes, sorry. Just a bit disoriented. Obi-Wan was here, wasn't he?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, but he left." She leaned away and retrieved the joint she had put out earlier. He wiped the vestiges of tears from his cheeks, watching her light it, taking it when she offered it to him.

He wanted it to be Obi-Wan, he knew that now. A long toke. He slid back onto the blanket, exhaling slowly. His mind went blank as the drug hit home. He shivered. He wanted Obi-Wan, and his apprentice had fled when he'd made that clear. He'd made a huge mistake, and he may have alienated his padawan. Another long toke. Hema took the joint back as he slipped into an uneasy blue haze.

Panting, Obi-Wan leaned against the tree trunk, trying to calm his racing mind and heart. He would never forget the way Qui-Gon had cried out, the way his body had shuddered when he came, the taste of him... He swirled his tongue across his teeth, tasting it again, and his knees gave way. He sank to the ground, despair filling his body.

What the hell had possessed him to do that? He'd stumbled towards Qui-Gon's presence blindly -- it was a bright beacon in the Force to him -- and had pressed his body against the older man's without thinking. When Qui-Gon had embraced him, stroking his back softly, he'd found himself unable to resist tasting the skin beneath his lips. Once he started, he simply couldn't stop, and he'd continued to kiss and taste that golden skin, reveling in the musky spicy scent that was so familiar, so Qui-Gon.

A rebel tear carved a path down his cheek, and he allowed it, though it tickled.

Qui-Gon's impressive cock in his mouth... he couldn't forget that, wouldn't, though he'd probably never get the chance again. He'd been able to play the older man like an instrument, somehow knowing exactly what to do, what he'd like. When Qui-Gon came, he actually savored the taste of the thick hot fluid that, to his surprise, didn't gag him. He actually held it in his mouth, not swallowing, wanting to hold on to the moment for as long as possible.

Then Hema had pulled him to his knees and kissed him roughly, forcing her tongue into his mouth and taking some of that essence from him. He'd been shocked at first, but when she backed away, he understood -- she was giving him a way out. Only then did he realize the seriousness of what he'd done.

He'd nodded and backed away hastily, seeing her kiss his master just before he turned away. Then he'd heard the man moan her name... and he ran. And ran, until he was sure he wouldn't be able to feel him anymore.

He'd crossed a line that he should never have crossed, but Qui-Gon would not know that it had been him. He could never know, for it would ruin everything...

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, knowing that he was being ridiculous. He couldn't keep this from his master. He couldn't shield his feelings forever, without the man suspecting something. He could only hope that Qui-Gon would be able to forgive him for this enormous breach of trust.

He found the twins, dozing, back where he'd left them. He stroked Jema's cheek, and kissed her. She mumbled incoherently.

He tried Jalet. The prince awakened as Obi-Wan kissed the back of his neck softly.

"Mmmm, nice," he whispered, stretching out on his stomach.

Obi-Wan straddled his body and stroked his hands down the muscled back of the prince, regarding the young man hungrily. His own arousal, unabated from his experience with Hema and Qui-Gon, began pulsing back to life, his cock stirring as he pressed his groin into Jalet's behind. The young Primalian's spine was lined with dark freckles that disappeared into the cleft between his buttocks. Obi-Wan felt a sudden urge to try to lick those freckles off.

His tongue left a hot wet steak up Jalet's spine. He nuzzled a shoulder, then bit down, hard.

"Ow! What're you... ohhhh..." The protest quickly faded into a moan of pleasure as Obi-Wan's lips, tongue, and teeth caressed Jalet's shoulders and neck, gently at first, and then more roughly as his passion grew.

Jalet struggled to turn over, but Obi-Wan held him down, pressing him into the ground, pinning his hands up over his head.

"You like it rough?" he whispered hoarsely into Jalet's ear. He couldn't do this face-to-face, couldn't kiss Jalet and let the other man taste Qui-Gon on his tongue. The skin under him flushed.

"Oh, yes, gods..."

He pulled Jalet's hips up, pressing his face into the ground roughly, and spread the cheeks painfully wide with his hands. Jalet trembled beneath him, and he was seized by the urge to sink his teeth into those mounds of flesh. Jalet moaned in response.

He found himself fascinated by the puckered entrance to the younger man's body, wondering... He leaned forward and exhaled softly letting his hot breath caress the sensitive skin there.

Jalet shuddered. "Oh, fuck yes, please rim me, yes!"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile. He wondered if he could make Qui-Gon beg like that with just a breath. /No/, he thought, pushing the thought away harshly. /I'm not going to think about this now./

He extended the tip of his tongue and slowly licked the sensitive skin just above the balls. Jalet moaned, encouraging him on. He circled carefully around the point of interest for several long seconds, Jalet shuddering beneath him. /Well/, he thought, /here goes/, as he swirled the tip of his tongue into the tight hole. Jalet cried out softly and struggled to keep his hips still, clearly wanting to arch back into the mouth so carefully pleasuring him. Obi-Wan pressed the tip of his tongue into Jalet's body slowly, marveling at the reaction such a simple gesture could produce.

It wasn't disgusting at all, he reflected distantly. The skin just inside that entrance was amazingly soft, and it actually felt good to stroke it with his tongue. His hard cock was starting to ache from tension, and he realized that things needed to move along more quickly.

He fucked Jalet roughly with his tongue, loosening the tight ring of muscle there -- it was all the preparation he was planning to give. The prince cried out beneath him as he pulled his mouth away and roughly pulled the prince's ass into his hips. His cock nestled between the round cheeks there, sliding up and down, the head repeatedly teasing the entrance. He pressed Jalet roughly into the ground, nipping the skin on his back hard enough to leave red welts.

Calling the bottle of lubricant to his hand, he flipped the top open with a finger... and stopped. Something wasn't quite right -- this wasn't what he wanted. He swallowed hard and dug his fingers into the other man's hips.

"Jalet?" he whispered hoarsely.

The prince stilled beneath him. "What's wrong, Obi?"

"I... I don't know how to ask this, but..." he swallowed again.

Jalet twisted beneath him and caught the look on his face, the bottle of lube being shifted aimlessly in one hand. He grinned and sat up, taking the bottle from Obi-Wan and pressing the Jedi down onto his back.

"As it happens, I'm actually quite sore from the good pounding you gave me a few hours ago." His eyes sparkled. "I'd be more than happy to return the favor."

Obi-Wan blushed inexplicably, but nodded his head with a smile. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, but I... I need to be fucked right now." Grinning sheepishly, he turned around, on his hands and knees, leaning forward until his forehead was pillowed on his arms, ass in the air. After a long moment, he felt the tip of Jalet's cock pressing at his entrance, circling a little, smearing cold lube.

Jalet stroked his lower back with one hand. "This okay?" he whispered.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied calmly, though anticipating the worst. Jalet pressed forward, breaching the tight hole with a hiss. In one long, slow movement, he was sheathed in the Jedi's body.

Obi-Wan cried out; he couldn't help it. It still hurt, and he realized that he was more sore than he'd expected. He took deep breaths, willing his body to accept the intrusion, though it desperately wanted to expel Jalet's cock. He gritted his teeth and waited it out. Jalet held his hips firmly, whispering soothing words. The pain started to ease, and Jalet, sensing it, started to move.

He stroked slowly at first, pulling back until just the head of his cock was inside Obi-Wan's body, and then pushing all the way back in slowly. It started to feel good, pain mingling with pleasure in unexpected ways, slowly giving way to a rush of sensation.

The sensation of being filled and stretched without the buzz of clenasyn was exhilarating. He had never really contemplated anal sex before the last few days -- at least not being on the receiving end of it. He found that he liked it, though, liked being possessed by another, liked the intrusion into his body, the way that silken hardness brushed against the sensitive spot inside him.

Qui-Gon rolled onto his side and eyed Hema curiously. For some reason that he couldn't have explained if he'd tried, he was intensely aroused, for the fifth or sixth time in so many hours. He closed his eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. /At my age? Clenasyn is a wonder./

He opened his eyes to find her fixing him with a sultry smile. "What are you trying not to think about so hard?"

He was on her in one swift movement, kissing her hard, pressing her thighs apart with his knees and reaching down to guide his already stiff cock into her. She cried out in shock and pleasure. Despite the quick start, he found himself compelled to fuck her with long slow strokes as she gasped and pressed up underneath him.

He closed his eyes, trying to will away the image that was firmly implanting itself into his mind -- Obi-Wan beneath him, moaning his name, taking his hardness into that sweet, tight ass.

The image was making him even harder. /Why fight it?/ he thought. /It's just a fantasy. It won't harm anyone./ He glanced down at Hema again, almost surprised to see her body beneath him. Hmmm...

He pulled out and roughly rolled her over, slipping an arm under her hips to elevate them. He leaned forward onto her back, and quickly entered her again, thrusting harder now. In his mind, it was his apprentice's hard body beneath him.

Jalet had begun to thrust harder, grunting with the pleasurable effort. Obi-Wan grasped the rumpled blanket by the handfuls, trying desperately to anchor himself to something solid.

Try as he might, he couldn't get the fantasy of his master out of his head. It was so easy to just pretend that it was Qui-Gon behind him, filling him, fucking him... his own cock was impossibly hard. He didn't want to push the fantasy away -- it felt too good. /Why not?/ he thought. /No one has to know./

The rhythm built to a frenzy, and he could almost feel Qui-Gon's calloused hands grasping his hips tightly, could picture the look on the man's face as he rammed into him, could smell the sex and sweat in the air, that spicy scent that always reminded him of Qui-Gon.

Without thinking he reached out along their training bond, wanting a mental connection, craving more than imagined physical contact. He could sense Qui-Gon through a slight haze, could feel... his breath caught in his throat as he suddenly realized what his master was doing. A twinge of intense jealousy flooded him momentarily, and then he felt it. Qui-Gon touched him back, tentatively, maybe even unconsciously, but his master was clearly reaching out to his apprentice in the throes of passion just as Obi-Wan was reaching out to his master.

Qui-Gon was lost, lost in the fantasy of fucking his beautiful apprentice. He imagined the golden planes of Obi-Wan's body beneath him, the cropped padawan cut wet and glistening from sweat, his balls slapping against the younger man's as he pounded his cock into him unmercifully.

He felt Obi-Wan reaching tentatively along their bond, deepening the connection beyond this exquisite physical one, and he reached back, touching and caressing his mind gently, in sharp contrast to the animalism of this physical act. He was still too stoned to do it well, and he couldn't hold onto it too tightly. He felt the connection slip into the background of his thoughts, just buzzing beneath his grasp.

He slid a hand beneath that strong body to pull at the straining erection -- and it wasn't there. With a shock, he returned to reality, the reality in which he was fucking a woman. He put the hand to good use, stimulating her further until she came, shouting hoarsely. But he wasn't quite there. He continued his eager thrusts, aware that Obi-Wan was still at the edge of his consciousness.

The tension in his body was building rapidly, and Jalet grunted behind him, pounding into him so hard that he thought he'd scarcely be able to walk in the morning. Jalet changed the angle, and was suddenly stroking his prostate directly. He fell into orgasm screaming, spasming muscles pulling Jalet along with him.

He was dimly aware of a flare of pleasure along the bond, as if Qui-Gon... /Sith it all/, he thought hazily. /We came together./

Qui-Gon collapsed onto Hema, sweating and exhausted. He remained there, unable to move, feeling her harsh breathing begin to quiet as the last vestiges of the second orgasm she'd had faded away. He smiled to himself. /I'll always be jealous of women for that/.

He rolled off of her and onto his side, still panting. She turned her head and smiled lazily.

"That was incredible. It's been a long time since I've had such a vigorous lover."

He grinned, though he knew the reason behind his vigor was something he'd keep quite private. It had been apparent that he and his apprentice had connected, and had felt, even shared, each other's orgasms. He couldn't be sure who had reached out first, and suspected that it had been himself, wrapped up in his fantasy. He sank onto the rough blanket and closed his eyes against the rolling turmoil in his brain.

He'd never expected to develop these feelings for Obi-Wan. It had struck him like a bolt of lightening, completely unexpected. And worse, it was not something that he could do anything about. He couldn't approach his apprentice with these feelings, for there was a very clear power differential. He would never be sure if he'd abused his position. He was destined to desire his padawan from a distance. For ten more years, perhaps.

"Well, I've been called many things in my life," Jalet said, grinning, "but Master is a first."

Obi-Wan's head fell into his hands.

"Shit, did I...? I'm sorry, Jalet." How embarrassing, how fucking insensitive was that, to call out another's name?

"It's okay," Jalet laughed, embracing him affectionately and planting a soft kiss on his shoulder. "I think I'd fantasize about a man like that too, if only I were lucky enough to spend all of my time with him."

"Yes, but..." Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his hands to entwine his fingers with Jalet's. "I don't know how to tell him, or even if I should. He thinks I'm a child. He wouldn't be able to think of me as an equal in bed, no more than he would think me an equal in any other arena."

"So, you're not going to tell him how you feel? You're just going to suffer in silence?"

"Well, I expect I'll masturbate a lot."

Six standard hours later, the Jedi were back on their small transport, flying up through the atmosphere of Primale. The goodbye hadn't been as traumatic as Obi-Wan had expected. There were no tears, just warmth, as he embraced Jema and Jalet on the landing platform. There were few words exchanged, just a sincere promise that they would keep in touch, continue this friendship.

"You may even be looking at the future senator from Primale," Jalet had declared softly. "I'll see you on Coruscant in a few years." Born minutes after his sister, the official heir to the throne, he had been educated in culture, philosophy, and politics in preparation for the isolated world's entry into the Republic.

Obi-Wan kissed them both with all of the feeling for them that he had, wordlessly thanking them for sharing themselves with him in such a remarkable way. They smiled at him, leaning on each other, as he boarded the ship.

He quietly made the calculations for the jump into hyperspace, lost in thought.

Large warm hands settled on his shoulders, startling him. He flinched, surprised, but immediately relaxed when the hands began a gentle massage.

"Ready?"

"Almost."

"Good. I don't know about you, Padawan, but I am exhausted. I am intensely looking forward to that uncomfortable bunk that awaits me."

Obi-Wan smiled. "They don't make those large enough for you, do they, Master? Strap in."

A few minutes later, ship firmly on course, they headed back to the small cabin. Obi-Wan quickly stripped down to the loose Primalian trousers he'd kept as a souvenir, and pulled the two folding bunks down from the wall.

A mischievous grin split his face. "Top or bottom, Qui-Gon? What's your preference?" He turned to face his master, one eyebrow quirked upwards.

To his surprise, Qui-Gon didn't react to the joke as he'd intended it. Instead, he froze in place, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

"Master?" he asked, pointing to the bunks in turn.

Qui-Gon looked away, blushing furiously. "Bottom, I suppose."

Obi-Wan studied him for a moment longer before climbing up into his bunk.

The dream was vivid. Hands stroking his chest, his sides, sliding down to caress his cock. Gently at first, but then stroking more firmly... he sucked in his breath and bucked his hips upward into those hands. Then he was engulfed in hot wetness as he was sucked down the other's throat. A throaty moan escaped him, thrusting, sucking...

He awoke with a start. /Sith, I never come in those dreams!/ He sighed, shifting his body, firm erection straining against the loose pants he still wore. He hesitated a moment before slipping one hand beneath the thin blanket, sliding under the waistband of the trousers, grasping his hard shaft firmly. He fondled the underside of the head for a moment, stilling his breath. He was used to doing this quietly. On many missions, they shared tight quarters, often the same room, and he had developed the ability to masturbate silently through years of practice.

He stroked himself with practiced ease, motions designed to quickly and efficiently bring himself off. The fantasy from his dream flooded his mind again. The hands stroking him were not his own, the calluses patterned slightly differently, but those hands still knew exactly how to touch him. /Oh, there, like that, keep doing that.../

Then he heard it -- a soft sound from the other bunk, so quiet he ought to have missed it. But it was a sound he had heard before. The sound of the object of his current fantasy, also touching himself. It was something he'd heard dozens of times, and had discreetly shut out, giving the other the same privacy that he knew he was afforded. But he couldn't shut it out, not this time.

He couldn't help but picture the man, hand in his pants as well, stroking himself strongly. Was he thinking of...? A wave of sensation shot through him, and he barely stifled a moan. /What was that?/ He tentatively touched their bond from behind the shields he'd kept painfully erect since they'd boarded. It was electric, full of desire, but hazy, as if underwater. Those shields were in place, but almost translucent.

The breathing from the other bunk grew quicker, and he heard a soft moan. He was so close, so close... then a soft cry in the dark, not from his own lips, and he came right then, crying out louder than he'd intended to, loud enough to have difficulty explaining the noise. He wiped his sticky hands on the sheets, stilling his breathing again. The cabin was quiet. Too quiet.

"Master?"

The soft voice echoed through the chamber. He panicked. Should he respond? Should he pretend to be asleep? No, he couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

He exhaled slowly. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"

Silence.

"Padawan?"

"Nothing. Sorry."

He didn't press the issue. He drew in the Force to settle himself into a sound sleep.

Three days. Just the two of them. In a cramped transport with barely enough room for one. For three whole days.

Obi-Wan sighed, head in hands. Meditation wasn't helping. The tension between the two men was palpable, thick in the air like humidity, making him sweat uncomfortably. One more night, and if he survived that, they'd be back at Coruscant. The last two nights had nearly destroyed his control. The mutual masturbation sessions were enjoyable, but the tension before and after were unbearable. Neither he nor Qui-Gon had said a word about it to the other. In fact, they'd hardly spoken at all.

He'd had his shields so tight that he couldn't imagine what Qui-Gon must be thinking of him, how concerned or even upset he might be. He simply couldn't risk exposing his feelings to his master now, not while they were trapped on this small vessel. If it went badly, as it very well might, there would be nowhere to go. He knew he could not keep his thoughts from his master for much longer. It was already disrupting their training bond, and the distance it had placed between him and his master was verging on painful.

Why hadn't Qui-Gon spoken of it? Perhaps his master sensed his feelings, and was simply giving him space until they reached the Temple. He sighed again, feeling his stomach drop. He'd leached on to Qui-Gon the last two nights, listening for the tell-tale sounds that indicated the older man was pleasuring himself, and he'd been unable to resist touching himself as well. Just imagining that the man was stroking himself, cock hard and leaking... a shiver went through him at the thought of it. He took a deep breath and tried again to meditate.

The small sleeping cabin was barely large enough for one, so they'd arranged a schedule for use of the space on the way out to Primale. Several minutes earlier, Qui-Gon had slipped through the room on the way to the 'fresher, apologizing quietly for the interruption. The interruption wasn't what had disturbed the young Jedi. It was the sound of the shower starting, and with it the thought of Qui-Gon, naked, rivulets of water running over his skin, that had disturbed Obi-Wan. And the thought that the man might emerge from the shower at any moment, still damp, clean, smelling of that spicy soap that he had used for as long as Obi-Wan could remember.

Obi-Wan took another deep breath. He'd been practicing his speech to his master for the entire voyage -- what he would say, how Qui-Gon might respond. In truth, he didn't know how Qui-Gon would respond to his confession. He'd kept his shields so tight that he didn't have even an inkling of how the older man had been feeling since they'd left Primale.

He still couldn't get the taste of his master out of his mouth, the sound of his cries of passion out of his ears, the sight of his face as he came, out of his mind. He was getting hard again just thinking about it...

The 'fresher door opened. Qui-Gon stepped back into the room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Obi-Wan froze, eyes glued to the sight before him. /Force, he's beautiful./ He just stared. Qui-Gon stared back. This wasn't an unusual circumstance. Normally, his master would find a change of clothes, and put them on, whether his apprentice was present or not. He'd never been particularly modest.

"I, uh... sorry to disturb you again. I'll just get my clothes." Qui-Gon rummaged through his small bag and fished out a pair of trousers and a tunic, then disappeared into the 'fresher again.

Obi-Wan was left staring at a closed door. That had never happened before. Head in hands once more. There was only one plausible explanation. /He knows, somehow he knows how I feel. He knows it was me that night. He regrets it all, and now I make him uncomfortable./

Qui-Gon slumped into the pilot's seat with a sigh. This was difficult, much harder than he'd imagined. He could scarcely be in the same room as his apprentice without a twinge of desire leaking past his control, stirring his blood, igniting his lust yet again. The past two nights' masturbation had helped to relieve the tension somewhat.

He wasn't sure if he had let his shields down inadvertently, or if there was some undercurrent of desire along their bond that seemed to have spurred Obi-Wan to join him in pleasuring himself the last two nights. He knew he should speak to his apprentice about the situation, but he couldn't bring himself to start that conversation. He had to come to terms with the fact that his feelings for his apprentice had developed into something highly inappropriate, and probably unwelcome.

/The boy actually looked frightened when I stepped out of the 'fresher. As if I might.../

He massaged his temples with his fingers lightly. He'd kept his shields up so tight that the lack of connection was causing a headache. He could only imagine that Obi-Wan must be highly confused, maybe concerned, at the lack of contact from his master.

/This can't continue, and I can't hide my feelings from him much longer. I have to be honest with him, and soon./

This small vessel was, unfortunately, not the place to have that conversation. They were isolated, with nowhere to go for another day and night. If he confessed his desires to his padawan, how would the boy react? Perhaps with fear, since he was alone with Qui-Gon on this small ship, and his master ultimately could do as he wished.

/Back to reality, Jinn. He knows you would never hurt him, never do anything against his will./

Why was he thinking like this? Why was his imagination running wild, creating scenarios that were so ridiculous?

Still, what if Obi-Wan felt obligated to submit to his master's desires? What if the boy feared losing his master's affection, or worse, his chances of becoming a knight if he didn't comply? The Council's sexual harassment policy was clear, and there had been a few rare instances of padawan learners filing such claims against their masters.

/Am I such a pervert?/

He watched the starlines for a long moment. He'd been unable to meditate all day, and that was surely contributing to his fragile emotional state. Yet another reason to wait until they returned to Coruscant to confess his feelings to his apprentice.

/My apprentice./ He closed his eyes at that. Obi-Wan was many years younger than he, more years than he cared to count. He was old enough to be his father, more than old enough. He had always looked a bit strangely at master-padawan pairs who become involved romantically. He simply couldn't understand the appeal to either partner. Why would a young and vibrant person forgo the exploration and promiscuity afforded by youth to tie himself or herself to a person many years his or her senior? Why would an older person, with a wealth of experience at hand, choose a lover who was so inexperienced, so immature? And so utterly subordinate? He could certainly understand the physical appeal of making love to a young strong body, and perhaps even the flattery of having such a person be attracted to you, despite the multitude of other options available.

The potential for disruptions in the training relationship was immense, not to mention the specter of abuse of power. How could the two ever truly be equal in their love when they weren't equal in any other arena? Would the padawan ever truly feel that he or she could break off the relationship without jeopardizing his or her career? Could such a pair even sleep together casually without causing difficulty in other areas?

/What do I really want from Obi-Wan?/ Clearly, there was a strong physical attraction. His fantasies involved a great variety of sexual positions and acts, all featuring his lovely apprentice. Was it just sex that he wanted? He had no doubt that the man would be an amazing lover.

/But Obi-Wan is more to me than a potential good fuck/, he thought, tongue firmly planted in cheek. He was an amazing young man, vibrant, strong, gloriously beautiful. He would, Qui-Gon knew without a doubt, be a great Jedi, perhaps one the greatest. He simply glowed in his master's eyes.

/Am I falling in love with him?/ he wondered silently. It was a sobering thought. An intimate relationship was one thing, but he knew himself. When Qui-Gon fell in love, he fell hard. It had taken him these last years to put Tahl's death behind him. In many ways, he wasn't fully healed from that pain. He wasn't sure he was ready to open his heart so widely again, not to someone he could lose just as unexpectedly.

Upon their arrival at the Temple, an aide was waiting to take them directly to the chancellor's office for a briefing. They exchanged a look of panic, but said nothing. Normally, they would have used the travel time to discuss the events of the mission and formulate their report, but this time -- this time they'd barely spoken at all.

They waited outside the chancellor's office, still silent. Mace Windu joined them wordlessly, and they barely recognized his arrival. He regarded them curiously as the ornate door to the inner office slid open.

The chancellor welcomed them warmly and gestured to a cozy-looking sitting area to their left. A tea service and some snacks had been arranged on a low table. They sat, smiling politely as an attendant appeared from nowhere to pour tea into delicate cups emblazoned with the insignia of the Republic. Obi-Wan briefly wondered if chancellors ever took such items as souvenirs when their terms ended.

"Master Jinn, I'm sure you are tired from your journey, so we can keep this meeting brief," the chancellor began, holding the teacup carefully, legs crossed at the knee in an attempt to appear casual. "What are your impressions of Primale?"

Qui-Gon cradled his own cup in his hands, as if warming them. He was the opposite of the chancellor in that moment, Obi-Wan thought, not resisting the urge to smile. Utterly at ease, elbows resting on his thighs, not concerned with propriety and appearances, just honestly Qui-Gon.

The Jedi Master told a frank, if carefully edited, tale of their days on Primale, of the Moonflower festival, and of their experiences with the various forms of clenasyn.

"Do you believe that clenasyn would cause problems for Primale upon entry to the Republic?"

Qui-Gon pursed his lips, an act that Obi-Wan knew meant the man was considering his words carefully before answering. "It is possibly the most effective substance I have ever personally encountered, yet without the harmful or uncomfortable side effects of most narcotics." His voice had a rough edge to it, as if the words were difficult to speak aloud.

"What do you mean by effective?" Mace prompted. Qui-Gon glared at him in that subtle manner with which Obi-Wan was all too familiar.

"Pleasurable. Euphoric. It removes inhibitions, amplifies physical sensations. As good as spice in that regard, without the numbness and loss of sense of time."

Obi-Wan bit his cheek in trying to maintain a mask of serenity on his face. /Spice?/

"The Primalians have studied the effects of clenasyn on humanoids extensively, and there is no evidence of any harmful side effects. It is not toxic, not addictive, not impairing in reasonable doses, and utterly impossible to cultivate off of Primale. It seems clear that the demand for such a substance could be extremely high, and that the Primalian culture and way of life would suffer greatly if a market -- legal or otherwise -- should develop for it."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat quietly. "There is a black market present on Primale now," he began, recalling the hazy details of a late night conversation with Jema. "There are many products, derivatives of dried Moonflower petals that are siphoned off of festival supplies. As you might imagine, clenasyn can be ingested in as many ways as any other such substance can. There is a thriving market in those products onworld, and it is only the isolation of the planet that has prevented that market from extending offworld."

"As far as we know," Qui-Gon interjected, seeking Obi-Wan's eyes with a curious gaze. The younger man shivered slightly before looking away.

"Of course," Obi-Wan continued quietly. "Your Excellency, the Moonflower tree is revered by the Primalians, and the trees themselves are strong in the Force. I can certainly appreciate the place that the trees and clenasyn hold in their culture. I share my Master's concern about what would happen to the Primalians should a larger market for clenasyn develop. I am uncertain what we could do to stop it."

The chancellor nodded, watching both men carefully. "Thank you for your frankness, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi. I shall contact you if I have any further questions."

They stood and bowed politely before turning to leave the room, Mace following close behind.

"Qui-Gon, a word?"

Obi-Wan could see the man tense visibly as the Councilor drew him aside and whispered to him quietly. Obi-Wan quickly realized that the conversation was private and moved a short distance away, though he was extremely curious. The conversation became fairly heated, and Qui-Gon stormed away, clearly angry, carefully avoiding touching Obi-Wan as he passed by.

Mace Windu watched him leave, then shook his head at Obi-Wan before walking away in the opposite direction.

Qui-Gon slumped onto the sofa in the sitting room of their quarters, utterly exhausted.

"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice came from behind him. The boy had been in the shower when he'd finally arrived back at their quarters, having taken a long walk through one of his favorite gardens in a vain attempt to clear his mind. He immediately wondered if Obi-Wan was naked.

/No, bad master, bad. Mustn't think of my padawan like that./

"Qui-Gon?" The voice was directly behind him now.

He winced. /Not yet. I'm not ready to face this yet./ "Yes, Padawan?" He forced himself to use the title.

"I know that it's none of my business, but what was that argument about, with Master Windu? I have a feeling that it regards me."

He didn't know how to answer the question. He closed his eyes and sighed. Then there were hands touching his head from behind, sliding up to massage his temples. He groaned inwardly, but didn't make a move to escape that wonderfully calming touch.

/Ironic how a touch from him is soothing, despite the fact that it's he who is at the center of all of this./

He took a deep breath. "Mace was concerned that there seemed to be a great deal of tension between us, and he expressed his intention to bring it to the attention of the Council. I told him that he could... well, I said something I'm sure I'll regret in the morning." He sighed, relaxing under his apprentice's hands. Obi-Wan was suspiciously quiet behind him.

"Qui-Gon," the younger man began, and then paused.

He waited, knowing what was coming.

"I owe you an apology for my behavior of late."

Qui-Gon stiffened immediately. The hands slipped down to start working on his shoulders. "An apology, Obi-Wan? Whatever for?" He opened his shields up a tiny bit, and sensed waves of anxiety rolling off of his apprentice.

"Master, you've been very generous to not say anything, but..."

The hands stopped massaging, and fingers threaded through the hair on his scalp, stroking softly. Oh, he loved it when he did that.

"Obi-Wan, what precisely is it that I've been so kind as not to mention?"

"That I've been shutting you out, ever since we left Primale. I'm sorry."

Qui-Gon froze, heart suddenly pounding. "Why have you been shutting me out?" Surely his apprentice could hear his pulse. He concentrated briefly on calming it. It was then that he noticed Obi-Wan's hands were shaking.

He turned his body to face the young man and caught those hands before they could be drawn away. His gaze immediately slid down the younger man's body, taking in the bare chest, slightly damp skin, loose fitting sleep pants that hung low on his waist, then back up again. Obi-Wan's green eyes were wide, and he almost looked...afraid.

/Afraid of me./ Qui-Gon dropped his hands and slid backwards on the couch, putting some distance between them. Obi-Wan backed to the window and turned to face it, leaning his forehead against the transparisteel. The young man's grasp on calmness seemed to burst like a bubble, and words poured forth from him one after another in rapid succession, slightly muffled against the cool surface of the window and his hands, which were now pressed to the glass on either side of his face.

"I'm so sorry, Qui-Gon. I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself. I won't blame it on the drugs, I know now that it was something I'd felt for a long time, had been building, but I didn't know until then, and I know you're uncomfortable with me now, and I'm so sorry, I..."

"Stop." Qui-Gon was on his feet and across the room in a heartbeat, pulling his padawan into an embrace. "Obi-Wan, I don't know what you're talking about."

Obi-Wan leaned against him and took a shaky breath. The trembling ceased. "You don't?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly, trying to draw some serenity back into the space between them in the Force. He squeezed a little tighter, feeling the muscles in the younger man's back press into his chest, wishing that he could feel the heat of that bare skin against his own. His lips brushed Obi-Wan's ear and he shushed him quietly, soothingly. "I have been shutting you out as well. I wasn't even aware that you were doing the same until this moment."

Obi-Wan's head fell back onto his shoulder, pressing his cheek against Qui-Gon's lips. "You were shutting me out? Why?"

Qui-Gon found himself brushing his lips against the younger man's jawline softly. He couldn't help himself. Fresh from the shower, he just tasted so good. His lips trailed softly under the strong jaw to nuzzle his neck. Obi-Wan's breathing had quickened -- the muscled chest rose and felt a touch faster under his arms.

/I should stop this. What am I doing?/

He closed his eyes and pushed away from the window, out of the embrace. He tried desperately to reach out to the Force for some serenity. It wasn't working.

He opened his eyes to see his apprentice smiling at him.

"What is it?"

Obi-Wan's smile broke into a grin, one of those broad grins that he loved. To his surprise, the younger man brought a hand up to stroke his cheek.

He didn't pull away, though he knew that he should. He wanted to know if he was dreaming this. Was that truly his Obi-Wan, so gently stroking his face, pulling him, closer, pressing his lips against...

/Oh, yes./

Qui-Gon, once he got warmed up, was a great kisser. He'd been told so on many occasions, most recently by the queen of Primale. He had a technique that most of his partners found highly erotic. He could do things with his tongue that mere mortals couldn't imagine. He'd once made a woman have an orgasm, just by kissing her. On the mouth, no less. It took him several long seconds to realize he'd met his match.

Obi-Wan's mouth was amazing. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue pressed past Qui-Gon's lips smoothly, searing him with small thrusting movements. Qui-Gon moaned into that mouth and let himself be kissed, savoring every moment of it. The taste of him was wonderful, soothing in a way he couldn't describe. That body pressed against tightly against his own, arms circling him, pulling him closer. An insistent hardness pressed against his thigh. The headache he'd been nursing for days was dissipating. The hardness brushed against his own erection, sending a jolt through his body.

"Obi-Wan," he gasped, pulling back and leaning his forehead against the younger man's, panting. "This is too fast, we can't just... we have to think very hard about this." He paused, still catching his breath. Obi-Wan nodded his head slightly, encouraging him to continue. "I'll do nothing to jeopardize your training, Padawan."

Obi-Wan pulled away slightly, face still flushed, features knitted with concern. /So adorable./

"Qui-Gon, I understand your concern, but..." He paused, wiping a hand across his face, as if clearing a cobweb away.

"If we take our relationship to a physical level, it changes the entire nature of our training bond," Qui-Gon began. "We will be equals in bed, but nowhere else. We must be sure that each of us can handle that. It will be difficult."

"But it would be worth it," Obi-Wan smiled, eyes flashing. Qui-Gon's stomach did a small flip inside his abdomen. "You are so much more to me than my master. I didn't know that until Primale. It was an awakening for me. I want this, Qui-Gon. I want you, very badly."

A long moment passed, with a hungry stare hanging in the air between them. Qui-Gon snapped, surging forward to capture that mouth with his own, pressing that body against the window, taking, devouring. It felt so right, so good, so perfect. Why had he been fighting this? A warm slick tongue battled with his. A hand was stroking his hardening shaft through his trousers. His apprentice's hand.

/My apprentice./

He broke this kiss with a groan and slid down to his knees, pressing his forehead into Obi-Wan's abdomen, hugging him tightly. He struggled to regain his control, taking deep breaths. The bare skin beneath his lips was far too tempting, and he pushed away, sitting on his heels.

"What now?" Obi-Wan's voice was rough, frustrated.

"We need to talk about this, Obi-Wan," he sighed. "We need to think very seriously about what this means, how it will affect our training relationship. We would have to keep it secret and be very discreet, lest the Council find out. You are quite young, and they may not have much sympathy for me as a result. They may even separate us, if they wish." He raised his head to glance at his apprentice's face.

Obi-Wan slipped to his knees as well, facing him, eyes closed. He looked for a moment as if he were meditating. "Master, this feels right. I know that this is what I want, and it is clearly what you want as well." He opened his eyes and met Qui-Gon's gaze. "I am aware of the Council's position on such matters, and I know that we would be taking a risk. But I... I need this. I need you."

"It's late, and we're both tired. Why don't we talk about this in the morning? A good night's sleep and clear minds will be better for this conversation."

Obi-Wan glanced at him shyly through thick lashes. "Can I sleep with you?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "As wonderful as that sounds, I don't believe that's a good idea, Obi-Wan." The young man's face fell, and he reached out instantly to stroke his cheek with a finger. "It's just for tonight, love. We'll straighten this out in the morning, I promise." Obi-Wan smiled at the unconscious endearment, and nodded.

They stood, straightening tunics and waistbands, accompanied by an awkward silence.

"Good night, then," Obi-Wan whispered, backing towards his own room. Qui-Gon watched, frozen to the spot, as Obi-Wan stepped through and closed the door behind him. His own bed, cold and empty, awaited him. Pity.

/A nice cold shower first/, he thought, heading for the 'fresher.

On to part 4