Promise

by Nimori (nimorii@yahoo.ca)

Archive: M_A; anyone else, just ask

Category: Q/O, Q/other, first time, angst

Rating: PG13 for language/situations

Warnings: the usual m/m stuff

Spoilers: nope

Series: In the Dark, Promise, Silent Devotion

Summary - A meeting and a promise. Sequel to 'In the Dark'.

Feedback - Pretty please? On or off list.

Disclaimers: You the man, George. The only thing I'm getting for this is some cheap thrills and (hopefully) some feedback.

Notes: Will make more sense if you read ‘In the Dark’ first. All things SW belong to Lucas, all mistakes belong to me, and all nekkid Jedi dreams belong to my betas, KatBear, Master Jenn, and The Rose. Thanks for all the help!

I came down from the heights of insensibility to find his arms holding me tightly, and I felt him shudder as I released his legs and his feet slid back to the ground. I buried my face in his neck.

"Padawan, Padawan," I whispered, stroking the short spiky hair and feeling the texture so subtly wrong. "Love you, Padawan." He never asked why I only said it with my eyes closed. I think he knew. I steeled myself and opened my eyes, taking in the flushed face -- wrong face! -- and not quite meeting the grey eyes -- wrong colour! -- of the padawan I had just fucked. The wrong padawan.

"Always my pleasure, Qui-Gon," he said, and the sound of my name on those lips sent a shiver down my spine. Wrong lips. I could not take him to task for his lack of respect, not with my come drying on his leggings. I could however, remind him of his manners.

"Thank you, Padawan Chun." I straightened and tugged my clothing into order. "I expect your master has given you evening tasks."

He ignored both subtle reprimand and hint. "So formal, Qui-Gon." He wound his clever fingers into my tunic and pulled me close. His mouth was hard and skilled, but what had excited me to the brink of madness only moments before now only sent my stomach into a tight knot.

I wanted to push him away and could not. This was a padawan -- someone else's padawan -- and there was no redeeming love involved, and there were very serious penalties for masters who propositioned padawans under such circumstances.

Not for the first time, I wondered what I was doing. I could have had any knight in the temple for a partner -- quite a feat for a member of an order that discouraged casual sex. I could have gone outside the Jedi, unappealing though the notion may be. And, having decided to cross the line and disregard the rules, I could have chosen nearly any padawan over the age of consent. But what I had was Bruck Chun working his hand inside my leggings again.

My wrist chrono saved me with an insistent beep. I disengaged immediately, and removed his hands from my clothing. "I'm late for a meeting, Padawan Chun. Good evening."

"Oh, it's just Obi-Wan. He'll understand." He tried to wrap his fingers in my hair.

"No, he won't." I stepped away before he could trap me again, but Bruck just leaned against the gazebo and smiled.

"Yes. He will." And with that he sauntered away.

Relieved I had escaped so easily, I started for my padawan's quarters, two levels up and one section over from mine. There was no time for a shower, no time to even stop to change. Rude, at best, to arrive in such a state, but he would worry if I was late.

Or so I told myself.

I stood outside his door for an eternity. I could hear the mellow beep of the chime echo inside, and I became aware of curious stares from passers-by as I waited and waited. He was in; if he was out the door panel would inform me so, record that I had stopped by, and ask if I wanted to leave a message. It did nothing of the sort, only beeped endlessly. The moments slipped by, and finally I keyed in my override code, letting myself in. He was not in the shower, as I'd --

hoped

-- assumed. The door to the cramped 'fresher stood open and the room beyond was an impenetrable black depth. The rest of the small space, with its carefully arranged screens partitioning living and sleeping areas, shifted with shadows and brief stabbing lights from the window.

The view was magnificent, but I had no eyes for it; I saw only the black form outlined by the dull glow from the city. His spine was straight, his legs crossed, hands loose on his thighs as he sat in the recessed window seat. Despite the shadows, I saw every line and muscle, traced each in my mind, for I knew the body we had sculpted together as well as I knew my own. The body I wanted to touch, to kiss... His posture was perfection; strict, yet relaxed in his meditation.

But he was not meditating. I caught a flash of passing lights on the whites of his eyes as he stared out over Coruscant. "Padawan," I said, curious now as to why he had not answered the door.

"Qui-Gon."

Never once in our ten years as master and padawan had he called me by name. I had longed to hear it from his lips, but, instead of the expression of love I imagined, the word fell like a slap between us. It was my duty to reprimand him for taking such intimacy without leave, yet the words lodged in my throat.

He knew.

Fear set my knees trembling, while a hideous joy slunk through my heart. He knew, and it hurt him. I had hurt him. I could not ignore the shameful pleasure that thought brought.

"Why?" His voice was low and calm, curious. Restrained. Jedi.

Why indeed. I knew, now that it was too late. I'd had many lovers -- too many, truly, for a Jedi knight -- but the endless casual affairs only added to my reputation as a rebel. Young men mostly, getting progressively younger until I caught myself anticipating knighting ceremonies and the new knights with their short-cropped hair... No braids though. I kept away from the knights after that realization, and took my affairs outside the temple, diversions all of them. No one --

only one

-- possessed what I needed, what I craved, and I found myself contemplating my padawan's yearmates, all the while berating myself for a silly crush which I feared was closer to obsession.

That was still no answer to Obi-Wan's question, which was not really why, but why Bruck. I knew. I could not have Obi-Wan, so I would hurt him, and in that perverse thought lay the answer to many whys; why I practically flaunted my affair with Bruck, why I dared arrive at my padawan's door reeking of cheap sex...

I wanted to be caught. By him. So he would feel the same pain and guilt I felt every time I looked at him.

"Why?" he repeated, and I flinched.

"I am truly sorry, Obi-Wan. I... I wanted to hurt you." Because one word from you and I would fall at your feet. Because you won't say that word.

"No. That's not what I meant." He turned to look at me, face in shadow. "Why not me?"

I could only gape at him. "You don't love me."

"Does Bruck?" he shot back, calm slipping.

"N--"

"Then why not me? If you're going to corrupt padawans, why not your own?"

"I would never lead you astray!"

"What utter shit. You do it all the time, Qui-Gon. You defy the council at every turn--"

"Only when necessary."

"-- you ignore tradition, break the rules, bend the laws to suit your momentary whims, and all the while expecting me to follow along like a good little padawan, running interference and performing damage control for you. So don't tell me you haven't corrupted my oh-so-pure Jedi values."

I stiffened. "I had no idea you felt that way."

"I don't. Those are merely the facts, Qui-Gon. How I feel about them is another matter."

"How do you feel?"

"Right now? Like I could drown Bruck in a glass of water. Like I could tie you up and beat you into at least the semblance of a proper Jedi master. How dare you?" He left his seat by the window and began to pace. "How dare you take your little obsession outside our relationship? How dare you take your needs to another? To Bruck Chun of all people. I can understand your other lovers, but soliciting padawans? Bruck Chun?" His voice fell to a whisper. "Wasn't I good enough?"

"Padawan, oh Padawan." I wanted to hold him, but dared not move. "You're too good. I know you don't love me in that way--"

"No, I don't. But if you needed it that badly you could have asked me. The worst I could say is no. Instead you went to Bruck." He ceased pacing, and stared at me. The light was too dim to read his expression, but his motion was predatory as he stepped over to me. "I'm a very competitive man, Qui-Gon. You know that."

I bit back a moan, wondering if my mind had produced this whole twisted scenario in order to lure my padawan to my bed. At that moment I harboured no doubts on the potential of my depravity.

"Anyone else I could have forgiven you for. Anyone but Bruck." He seemed so dark against the lighted window, skin crawling with the flickering glow from the traffic. "Do you think I'd let him give you what you want from me? Do you?"

"Are you... propositioning me, Padawan?"

He stared at me, eyes glittering only inches from mine. "Yes. Yes, I am. But--" He held up a hand to forestall my protest. "We are going to the council first, and we are going to get permission. I won't risk you for a moment's pleasure."

Only my Obi-Wan. Always a stickler for rules.

"As a matter of fact," he continued, "we'd better go right now."

"Now?"

"Bruck saw me watching you in the garden this evening."

I flushed knowing he had seen us, but saw his point. It seemed he was, once again, on damage control.

One would not think, to look at the Jedi from the outside, that such a reserved and disciplined order could be, at its heart, a group of misty-eyed romantics. We are. So wise in the ways of the universe, yet the notion of love conquering all can bring the best of us to tears.

Bruck, to his clear annoyance, found himself before not the Padawan-Master -- which this year was soft-hearted Depa -- but the full council. I admit I enjoyed his discomfort, knowing he had underestimated his opponents this time. He pushed ahead anyway, and no sooner had he accused me of forcing him into a compromising situation than he found himself facing a full psychological scan with Mace Windu. Ostensibly to ensure there was no damage done, it also ensured a truthful account of the events. Annoyed as Mace was with me, he was no fool.

I watched the remaining members as Mace led Bruck away for his review. They stared back, impassive, until Yoda broke the silence.

"Acted foolishly you did."

"Yes, Master."

"Trouble that boy is. Harm you meant not, but nonetheless responsible you are. Counselling you will get."

"Yes, Master."

Yoda turned his regard on Obi-Wan. "Love him do you?" There was no mistaking the hopeful cast to his uplifted ears as he stared at my padawan.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. I seek permission to explore our options. It would entail a commitment, of course."

I held my breath, hardly believing he spoke the words I was hearing. He proposed a trial relationship, a period normally used to explore compatibility. It was common enough among knights, but padawans had far less freedom, needing to prove mutual love before entering a relationship.

"Ah," Yoda said. "Potential you see. Good. Impose a condition I will. Physical your commitment will not be, for harmonize your souls you must. Steady in all things a Jedi should be. Serenity. Strength. Confidence. A base you need, young one. A base you both need. Wait you will." He tapped his gimer stick sharply. "Working sabbatical you are on."

Working sabbatical. Temple duties, no missions. Not exactly the punishment I had expected.

Dismissed, we left the council chamber, I dazed into silence though I should have expected such immediate, unpredictable action from my apprentice... and such blatant meddling from my old master. I may be defiant, but Yoda was devious, and Obi-Wan was always the bold one.

Walking silently at his side, I dared to take his hand and he allowed the gesture. I knew it did not mean he loved me... only that he promised to try.

Finis