Obi-Wan's Birthday

by Astra (satsekhmet@yahoo.com)

Archive: Master/Apprentice. Anywhere else is fine too ... just let me know so I can visit ;->.

Category: romance, first-time, PWP

Rating: PG-13(?) so far, but headed for NC-17

Warnings: QG/OW

Spoilers: pre Phantom Menace, no spoilers

Summary: Obi-Wan gets the present he most wants for his 20th birthday

Feedback: Yes, please! This is my first QG/OW story ;->.

Author's Note: I don't use betas, so all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimers: I don't own them (if I did a certain Jedi Master wouldn't be... well... SPOILER) and this is all for love, not money.

If two male Jedi being all mushy and passionate about each other offends you, or if you shouldn't be reading stuff like this at your age, please skip on to the next post!

Somewhere in the heart of the Jedi Temple, Master Qui-Gon Jinn was awakened by the pre-dawn chorus of a flock of birds. In addition to housing the Jedi Academy, the temple also maintained a nature sanctuary, a welcome oasis of life force on a planet otherwise dominated by the city of Corusant. Years ago -- when he was still alone -- Qui-Gon had not bothered maintaining a permanent residence at the temple, but once he accepted young Obi-Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, he felt the need to offer the boy a home -- a still point in the constant motion of their lives together.

As was his habit upon awakening, he reached out gently with the Force, touching lightly on the bond with his padawan, who still lay deeply asleep in the next room. A small smile formed as Qui-Gon lay quietly, enjoying the stillness, for stillness was a rare commodity in his life with Obi-Wan -- the young man's fiery energy and enthusiasm were a perfect complement to his master's outward reserve. In the beginning finding the balance point had been difficult... Obi-Wan had often confused his master's reserve with disapproval and a lack of caring, while Qui-Gon at first saw Obi-Wan's passionate outbursts as disrespect and hardheadedness. Now -- seven years later, on Obi-Wan's twentieth birthday -- they understood each other much better. While there was still the occasional disapproval, it was always softened by a constant flow of support and affection, just as Obi-Wan's stubbornness never overwhelmed his deep respect for his master.

Qui-Gon's concentration slipped for a moment as he felt Obi-Wan unconsciously join his meditation via a dreamwalk. This was not a common ability even among Jedi and was an indication of how strong their bond had grown. Qui-Gon allowed himself to savor his pride in his apprentice for a moment and thought about waking him up, then decided to let him sleep a little longer... for a change, they had no pressing duties awaiting them. Obi-Wan always seemed more in need of reassurance around his birthday, so whenever possible Qui-Gon had made it a point to arrange a free day -- no mission, no drills, no formal lessons -- to celebrate the occasion. It had usually been a welcome vacation for himself as well as Obi-Wan... a day to take a step back from his role as master and teacher... a day he could spend showering the boy with love and affection. And a day that cost him more dearly each year as his love for Obi-Wan grew beyond the master/padawan relationship.

Last year had been especially difficult. At Obi-Wan's request, they had spent much of the day engaging in physical competitions, most of which involved close contact and highlighted in Qui-Gon's mind both Obi-Wan's nascent masculine beauty and their age difference. It had taken all of his vaunted self-control to appear unaffected and he had spent many hours in meditation afterwards pulling his uncharacteristically chaotic emotions under control. And even so, he had been concerned that the boy had felt something amiss, for he had been moody and distant for days afterwards.

// I am no longer a boy, Master. //

Qui-Gon was startled out of his reverie by Obi-Wan's still sleepy voice in his mind. Obi-Wan's energies resonated so closely with his own -- made him feel, to be honest, more truly himself than when they were apart -- that he had forgotten Obi-Wan's gentle presence in his meditation. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon tried to undo his error.

// Padawan, go back to sleep... this is all a dream. // he soothed. Better to have his apprentice remember the inappropriate feelings of his master as a vague dreamstate than as reality. Qui-Gon did not want to make the boy uncomfortable, today of all days.

// No Master... not again... not this time... // came the plaintive reply as his padawan resisted his suggestion. He pressed a little harder. // Please... //

It was the 'please' that stopped him, the tone sounding very close -- too close -- to a mental sob. Instantly he released the compulsion. There had been times when he had forced Obi-Wan to sleep -- times when he had been injured past his ability to block out the pain, and times of serious illness -- but he would not betray his student's trust by doing it just to avoid a problem he himself had caused. Qui-Gon groaned quietly as he realized that Obi-Wan was not only now fully awake, but was on his way to the door separating their rooms. He rose, quickly pulling on his robes over his leggings and thickening his mental shields. Lying half-naked in bed with memories of last year's struggle clearly visible in his mind was not how he wanted to have this conversation. Not that he had ever wanted to have this conversation in the first place, but...

// Master? May I come in? // He could sense Obi-Wan leaning against the door, eyes closed in concentration, willing acceptance of whatever his master's reply would be. Qui-Gon settled into his chair, composed his features and sent a gentle positive reply through their bond, even now taking pleasure in that closeness.

A very subdued Obi-Wan entered the room and dropped gracefully to his knees in front of his master, head bowed. He was dressed, as Qui-Gon had been, only in loose fitting leggings and his short hair was still rumpled from sleep. The combination of childlike innocence and raw masculinity instantly began to shoot holes in his master's hard-won composure.

"Obi-Wan?" he queried softly, confused. His apprentice only took such a posture when he was anticipating a serious reprimand or desired a great favor, neither of which made sense in this circumstance.

Obi-Wan trembled slightly at the sound of his master's voice. When he had awoken from one of his most cherished dreams -- that Master Qui-Gon loved him as far more than a student and friend... wanted him -- directly into a meditation of a startlingly similar nature, he knew that this time he must not let his fear of a repeat of Qui-Gon's humiliating rejection of him on his previous birthday silence his words again.

Obi-Wan had known for a long time that he loved Qui-Gon. He wasn't sure exactly when or how his feelings had changed from respect for the teacher to love for the man, but he did know that this went far beyond the adolescent crushes of his peers, which were little more than hero worship. He had felt that for Qui-Gon, of course -- how could he not, being apprenticed to one of the best knights in the order -- but that was when he was younger and his master seemed both all-knowing and all-powerful. In the years since he had learned that his master was very much human... fallible... and loved him all the more for his faults and his struggles to overcome them. But now that it was time to speak, he found that his usually irrepressible brashness had deserted him, and he kneeled, barely even breathing, as stiff and mute as a statue.

Qui-Gon saw the small shudder slip across his Padawan's smooth muscles and felt something akin to fear roll off of him in waves. Fear! Qui-Gon was horrified... never before in all their years had he given Obi-Wan reason to fear him. Quicker than thought, his hand reached out to offer comfort, strong fingers slipping through silky-soft tousled hair. His touch seemed to release Obi-Wan from his paralysis. Suddenly able to breath again, he leaned into his master's touch, then before he lost his nerve again blurted out, "Master -- is it true?"

Qui-Gon concentrated his attention on his fingers, now caressing his student's braid, a vivid symbol of all they had been to each other throughout the years. As a negotiator, he had plenty of experience dissembling in the political arena, but he had never lied to his apprentice when asked a direct question. Still, he hesitated and felt Obi-Wan begin to slip away into that empty, fearful place again.

"Is what true, Padawan? That I love you as more than my student and closest friend? That despite my age I desire you... you who could be my son... who have indeed been the son I never had? That I've made myself walk away when I wanted nothing more than to gather you into my arms and hold you close to my heart? Yes, Padawan..."

He tugged gently on the braid, an old signal to get Obi-Wan to look at him, and his voice became a caress, "Obi-Wan..."

// forgive an old man his fantasies... //

Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek against the back of his master's hand and looked up, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Seeing the sadness in Qui-Gon's gaze, the tension in his features, he pressed a heated kiss to the knuckles, lest the reason for his tears -- now slipping loose -- be misunderstood. He had often felt that Qui-Gon kept him at a distance -- more lately than when he was a child. It had pained him and kept him silent about his own feelings, but he was beginning to understand that it was not due to a lack of feelings on his master's part, but rather to their depth.

"Master," he began, and had to stop and swallow as he saw hope begin to transform his master's beloved face from a tense mask to what Obi-Wan privately thought of as the epitomy of feline nobility. He licked suddenly dry lips and saw Qui-Gon's eyes darken, twin flames burning away all pretense of remote coolness. "I will... if you will forgive your apprentice in turn." He locked eyes with Qui-Gon, pouring the reality of his years of love and longing into his gaze and into their bond.

Breath catching in his throat, Qui-Gon slid forward out of his chair to kneel facing Obi-Wan, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat of the younger man's bare skin even through the robes he had thought to hide in. Lost in his apprentice's eyes, he drew the tips of his fingers across his cheek, down onto soft lips. Now it was his turn to shiver as those lips murmured against his skin, in a voice grown so thick with yearning that he barely recognized it.

"Qui-Gon..." It sent a wave of white heat down his spine, his body instantly responding to the younger man's need. He could feel the Force pulsing between their bodies, making it seem as if they were already touching. Experimenting, he willed a small ripple against Obi-Wan's body like a caress and was rewarded with a gasp, followed by a low moan. It was by far the most arousing sound he had ever heard, and the beginnings of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth, completing the transformation to what Obi-Wan considered his master's 'indulgent' face.

Emboldened by that delicate smile, Obi-Wan reached up to cradle his master's face in his hands, and found the beard both soft and spiky against his palms, just as it had felt in so many fevered dreams. As he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Qui-Gon's, he broadcast a silent prayer...

// Please let this be real.... //

Strong lips under his, hot and responsive, meeting each motion and caress as if they had been lovers for a lifetime, parting, and as their tongues met, he received his response...

// As real as love itself, my Obi-Wan. //

Moaning, he dropped his hands to broad shoulders, pushing at the robes, wanting more to touch. Without breaking off the kiss that for the moment seemed more vital to life than breathing, they combined their efforts and Qui-Gon's robes fell quickly to the floor. In less than a heartbeat Obi-Wan felt himself pulled against a muscular chest -- felt large, gentle hands molding him closer -- caressing his back, ribs, shoulders, arms -- fingertips running lightly up and down his spine -- a tangle of sensations assaulting his nerves. His own arms slid around his master's body to join in the joyful exploration.

He buried his hands under long hair, alternately letting the cool silk weave through his fingers and caressing the sculptured muscles that he had taken every opportunity to massage, just for the chance to touch. Whimpers of pleasure escaped him as it finally sank in that this was real, that he was in Qui-Gon's arms and was free to touch without reserve. Palms pressed flat to the broad back, he rubbed his body against Qui-Gon's, chest hair tantalizing sensitive nipples, stomachs and then hips meeting... hands dropping lower, leggings proving a scant but frustrating barrier as heat rocked against heat.

Qui-Gon reeled under the sensual impact of the eager young man in his arms. Obi-Wan's hands seemed to be everywhere at once ... and his kiss! He moaned deep in his throat... he'd watched and admired his student's passion for life for many years, but had never allowed himself realize what it would feel like to have all that hunger, that pure fire, focused on him. He held Obi-Wan tightly for a moment, grateful and awestruck.

Sensing the change, Obi-Wan momentarily ceased his fiery exploration and returned the embrace, and the sentiments. Passion coursed through their veins -- and through their bond -- but so did the sweet discovery of love returned, and multiplied. Their kiss slowed... gentled... turning into light caresses and nibbles that trailed onto jaws, eyelids, ears, chins. Obi-Wan's eyes popped open as he felt a nip on the tip of his nose.

"I've wanted to do that for months," commented Qui-Gon, grinning. Reluctantly drawing back, he took Obi-Wan's hands, pressed a kiss to each one, and stood, drawing his bemused apprentice with him. Twining their fingers together, he asked almost shyly, "Will you come lay with me, Obi-Wan?" then with a hint of mischief twinking in his deep blue eyes, "I'm too old to continue this on the floor."

Letting his gaze drift over his master's body -- tall and lean and well-muscled, long hair lightly touched with gray -- he saw a peaceful warrior in the prime of life, a far cry from the old man be professed to be. Letting his thoughts reflect clearly in his eyes, he raised his head for another kiss. "You're not old, Master... you're" -- he paused for a kiss that, thought short, left him breathless -- "perfect," he sighed.

That earned him a chuckle. "Hardly, my love," Qui-Gon replied, trying out the endearment, delighting in the radiant smile that appeared on Obi-Wan's kissable lips.

"Perfect for me." It was said with complete honesty, and when combined with a languid arch that brought their bodies back into contact, was more than enough to rekindle the fire they had banked. It came back now, redoubled, heating their blood and making the very air around them shimmer as they instinctively drew on the Force to enhance their connection, creating a feedback loop of pleasure that was almost frightening in it's intensity.

"Come here," Qui-Gon mock-growled, backing up until they reached the bed. He sat, then slid back, drawing Obi-Wan after him. With Obi-Wan kneeling between his legs, Qui-Gon let himself fall back, pulling his handsome apprentice down on top of him. He lay still for a moment, savoring the feel on Obi-Wan pressed against him from head to toe, then was stabbed with a sharp desire to indulge in some of those fantasies he'd tried so hard to deny.

Capturing willing lips in a blistering kiss, Qui-Gon rolled them over until he was on his side with Obi-Wan halfway underneath him, starting to writhe with renewed pleasure as his master's fingers trailed lightly over his throat, chest... brushing, then lightly pinching hardened nipples... tracing lazy circles on his stomach, finding and exploiting each sensitive spot, then circling lower.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were floating in a pool of pure bliss... every nerve was alive, especially where his master touched him, and he has never been so aware of the Living Force pulsing through his body -- through their bodies. He had one hand tangled in the hair at the back of Qui-Gon's neck and as he felt a teasing hand sliding lower, used it to deepen the kiss, sucking the tongue in his mouth with such passion and flair that Qui-Gon's hips twitched against his leg in anticipation.

Gasping, Qui-Gon broke off the kiss, quickly turning Obi-Wan's disappointed whimper into a mewl of pleasure as he followed the trail blazed by his fingers with his mouth, sucking and nipping at soft flesh, then soothing each spot with a flick of his tongue and a kiss. As his tongue circled Obi-Wan's nipple for the first time, he simultaneously let his hand settle onto his student's leggings, grasping firmly, then stroking.

Obi-Wan cried out hoarsely, pressing Qui-Gon's head to his chest, his hips bucking, his back trying to arch in two places at once. His senses reeled, nearly spiraling out of his control ... it had been so long since he'd let anyone touch him... he hadn't wanted anyone except his master... he trembled, lips drawn into a grimace, gasping for air.

Feeling Obi-Wan's struggle for control, Qui-Gon lightened his touch and sent soothing messages through their bond. Not that the response wasn't gratifying to Qui-Gon the lover, but Qui-Gon the teacher knew that even here his padawan must be able to work with his passions, lest they work against him and lead him toward the chaotic powers of darkness. Pressing soft kisses across the younger man's chest, he felt the ribs beneath him expand as Obi-Wan took a deep breath, his mind reaching for calm, his spirit flowing out to embrace the Force. Nuzzling his face against his apprentice's stomach, Qui-Gon watched the pained expression relax. His flesh was no less heated, his passion no less intense, but now Obi-Wan knew that these feelings were his by choice... he owned them, not the other way around. Qui-Gon smiled as crystal-blue eyes opened and met his.

"Beautifully done, Padawan," he murmured.

Obi-Wan blushed, not sure whether his master was referred to his control, or his lack thereof.

"Both, love," Qui-Gon answered the thought indulgently, then took a serious tone. "But we do still have a small problem."

"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan queried, concerned that even now this dream might be ripped away.

Qui-Gon grinned wickedly, then rubbed his cheek against the insistent bulge tenting Obi-Wan's leggings. "You have too much clothing on."

Obi-Wan grinned back, entranced by this previously undiscovered side of his master. The passion he had fantasized about... the love he had dreamed about... but this teasing, mischievous lover was an gift beyond his imagining.

"Yes Master," he replied in the same light tone, reaching down to remove his leggings. "I am, as always, obedient to your wishes."

"Ha!" Qui-Gon's bark of laughter startled him and he was doubly surprised to find his hands batted away. "Imp - let me..."

The teasing light in Qui-Gon's eyes darkened to something far more primal, almost feral, as he lifted Obi-Wan slightly and slide the leggings down over slim hips. Forcing himself to ignore the most obvious sign of Obi-Wan's arousal for the moment, he applied himself to the delectable task of exploring the rest of his apprentice's body. With his hand trailing down one smooth flank and his lips following a matching path on the leg closest to him, he slide down Obi-Wan's body, pushing the leggings along as he went, kissing and caressing each bit of skin as it was exposed.

As Qui-Gon slid beyond the reach of his hands, Obi-Wan tangled his fingers in the bedsheet, occasionally slitting his eyes open to watch his master's progress, then closing them again when the image of that mouth, those hands, touching him threatened to overwhelm his tenuous control. Mercifully, the leggings were finally gone, left to fall off the end of the bed, and after running tongue and fingers across ticklish feet and shedding his own leggings, Qui-Gon reversed direction, now moving quickly up Obi-Wan's legs, eager to ease the ache made evident by his apprentice's restless movements and whimpers.

Qui-Gon paused to indulge himself in a long look at the naked body stretched out before him -- a slow perusal from still-curled toes all the way up to the handsome face -- finally meeting eyes that burned like a reflection of his own.

Obi-Wan had opened his eyes as soon as the heated touch had stilled, and as he watched Qui-Gon's hungry gaze travel up his body -- at the same time taking in the beloved planes and angles of his master's nude form, tense with want -- he realized he'd never felt... had never hoped to feel... so desired, or so loved.

// So beautiful... // came the shared thought, each echoing the other so closely that neither knew who originated it.

Their gazes still locked, he watched hypnotized as Qui-Gon's tongue flicked out, taking a first taste that made his whole body quiver.

"Master," he gasped... // Please.... //

Smiling, Qui-Gon lowered his head, taking Obi-Wan slowly, tantalizingly into his mouth. Experimenting with combinations of speed and pressure, he relished his young lover's moans, feeling Obi-Wan's desire to make the moment last even as his climax stalked him like cat. With one hand he captured grasping fingers from the tangle of bedsheet; with the other he fondled and stroked, then slipped long fingers lower, pressing gently.

Engulfed in wet heat, his moans rapidly giving way to fervent pleas, Obi-Wan bent his knees in response to the gentle pressure and felt Qui-Gon slip one, then two fingers inside, matching the rhythm of his mouth, repeatedly stroking that spot inside that made lights explode behind Obi-Wan's eyelids. Trembling, his fingers tightening convulsively on Qui-Gon's, he teetered on the brink...

// Let go, love... // The intimate caress in his mind pushed him over the edge. With a hoarse cry, he came, the pleasure so intense that for a moment he lost sense of everything except that -- as always in his times of need for the past seven years -- Qui-Gon was there with him.

He came back to himself slowly, cradled in Qui-Gon's arms, gentle kisses and mumbled endearments being pressed into his short, spiky hair. He felt his master pressed tightly against the length of his body and reached out. As his fingers combed through soft chest hair, trailing along solid muscle and teasing pebbled nipples, he opened his eyes and was met with a look of love and wonder that mirrored his own feelings perfectly.

"Qui-Gon... my love." He tried out the words he'd thought he'd never be able to say aloud almost shyly, and found him mouth immediately captured by lips he knew instinctively he would never tire of kissing.

Running a hand down Qui-Gon's side, over a smooth hip, down the leg that was thrown over one of his, Obi-Wan felt his master tremble and press urgently into his thigh, hot and hard and so tempting... he wanted to taste... to explore, but later... right now he could sense his love's strongest desire and wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. Breaking off the kiss, he whispered against full, sensuous lips, "Master... make love to me."

Qui-Gon's heart skipped a beat and with a groan that was almost a growl he rolled onto his back, then pulled his willing apprentice on top of him, straddling his thighs. When Obi-Wan would have shifted forward, he pressed one large hand against the sweaty chest, holding him back, dropping the other arm down off the side of the bed, searching.

"Wait a moment, love..."

Obi-Wan's bewildered expression cleared when his master retrieved a bottle of massage oil, then his eyes narrowed, searching Qui-Gon face. He knew that he had put that away after giving him a massage two nights previous... could it be that his master had planned this, or... but no...

Qui-Gon replied to Obi-Wan's unspoken thoughts, flitting so obviously across his face and mind. The combination of desire, a slight touch of embarrassment, and frustration with his apprentice's lingering hero worship gave his voice a rough sarcastic edge.

"Oh damn... Obi-Wan, exactly how 'stoic and venerable' do you think I am? I am a Jedi Master, and your teacher, but I'm also a man... one who is exposed day and night to his gorgeous young apprentice, who he just happens to desire beyond all reason...." This earned him one of Obi-Wan's radiant smiles and he continued more gently. "Meditation is a wonderful tool, my young Padawan, but it doesn't resolve every need... not with you lying in the next room, your every breath, your every movement, a temptation... "

Obi-Wan flushed briefly at the censure in his master's tone, then again -- a deeper heat -- at the mental image of Qui-Gon watching him sleep, then returning to his own bed, too hot and frustrated to resist indulging his fantasies, biting his lip to keep from crying out his apprentice's name....

Obi-Wan felt something new... powerful... come alive inside of him -- some previously untapped aspect of the living Force flowing through him. His own arousal stirring again in response, his movements took on the speed and grace of a weapons drill. In the space of a breath, he lifted the bottle from already slippery hands, poured oil into his palm, applied it liberally to his master, and slid first forward, then back, stopping just short of penetration. Using an almost casual flick of his mind, he landed the bottle gently on the headboard, then steadied himself, his hands on Qui-Gon's broad chest.

Too distracted by his concern that Obi-Wan had let his passions take the upper hand to even register that first slick stroke, Qui-Gon realized as the bottle sailed over his head that just the opposite was true... his Padawan had discovered not only how to master his desire, but to use it to channel the Force. For a moment, a teacher's pride overwhelmed his desire for the young Jedi, but all thoughts of teacher and student temporarily shattered as Obi-Wan slowly engulfed him in a tight heat that went beyond even his most intense fantasies. Sucking in a shallow breath through clenched teeth, every muscle taut, he willed himself to lay still, to not grab those slim hips and thrust deeply as every instinct demanded.

Reveling in his master's response, and almost dizzy from the sensations flooding his own body, Obi-Wan pressed down harder, until their bodies met, then ground his hips against Qui-Gon's, drawing gasps of pleasure from them both.

"Master..." Rising up, then dropping back down, faster, grinding again.

"Yes... oh, yes, my Obi-Wan..." Hips arching up in response, one hand reaching up to stroke the younger man in rhythm with his own thrusts.

The doubled sensations swept away Obi-Wan's powers of speech, leaving him with only moans and an ever-increasing rhythm to express the intensity of his pleasure. The Force still thrumming through him, he reached out for his master's mind and was met halfway by a wave of passion, love and devotion that matched his own, borne of the same need to share... to complete the oneness of their bodies with one of mind and soul. Feeling barriers built by months... years... of denial of this overwhelming need shatter, the two Jedi almost leisurely flowed together, a sharp contrast from and complement to the two bodies straining together for completion.

Reaching that point where differentiation of bodies became impossible... where Qui-Gon thrust into Obi-Wan thrust into Qui-Gon, and it was all the same fiery bliss... both men trembled, thrusting hard and deep, and came, one desperate cry only a pulse beat behind the other.

Shaking with the intensity of their release, Obi-Wan lowered himself onto his master's chest and was instantly enfolded in arms that trembled almost as much as his own. "My precious Padawan..." he heard, and his mind was flooded by a wave of the same thought, and the full depth of emotion behind it. He raised his head, startled, meeting sapphire blue eyes that fairly glowed with contentment. "Yes, love." Obi-Wan could actually feel the joy behind Qui-Gon's smile. // The bond remains... you are in my mind and soul, as I am in yours. //

Qui-Gon immediately felt his apprentice's confusion. This depth of bond was not something casually discussed with padawans, as few would be be able to form one before knighthood, and many not even then. It required not only desire and love between two Jedi, but also an absolute level of trust, and the skill to sublimate the fire of passion to the Force without extinguishing it in that overwhelming pool of serenity, or - worse - drawing on the darkness that would make the fire one of destruction.

Pulling Obi-Wan up for a gently kiss, "Let's get cleaned up, then I'll explain." He chuckled as the younger Jedi sent a quick image of a hot bath, with just a bit of wistful entreaty attached. "Hedonistic imp," Qui-Gon commented indulgently. "If a hot bath is what you want, then that is what you shall have... it is your birthday, after all." He was secretly pleased... having a tub large enough for both Master and Padawan to soak the aches out of drill-weary muscles and having a bed big enough to accommodate his tall frame were two of the rare indulgences the Jedi Master allowed himself, both of which he was now doubly grateful for.

Reluctantly rolling a seemingly boneless Obi-Wan off of him, he climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom, feeling his love's eyes following his every move. As he exited the room he sent an image of the two of them together in the tub, Obi-Wan lying back against him, his lips pressed to the younger man's neck, his hands caressing slick skin.

// You did mean together, didn't you? // he teased.

An instant later he heard Obi-Wan almost tumbling off the bed in his haste to follow.

Obi-Wan sank into the tub slowly, hot water tingling along nerve endings that were more sensitive than usual, due in no small part to the callused fingertips that had softly catalogued each curve of his body while they waited for the tub to fill. Fingertips that belonged to the man stretched languidly along the other side of the tub, watching him with a half- lidded gaze of possessiveness... one that he had thought he'd felt many times, but that had -- until now -- always disappeared when he turned to look.

Qui-Gon watched his padawan settle into the tub and take his usual position, directly across from him. They had bathed together many times in the past, soaking the aches of drills and weariness of long missions out of their bodies, but as his feelings and desire for his apprentice had grown harder to contain, he'd found more and more excuses to stall and let Obi-Wan bathe alone, something that -- in hindsight -- had probably been a relief to the younger man as well. The reminder that he had not been alone in his denial made him smile, and he reached out his arms to his love, wanting him closer.

Obi-Wan quickly took advantage of the open invitation, sighing with contentment as his back settled against a solid chest and long arms wrapped around to hold him close. He always relished the comforts of Coruscant when he could. They spent so many of their missions in swamps, deserts and ice fields... he wondered wistfully why planets with pleasurable climates couldn't have more diplomatic difficulties.

// Probably precisely because they are such pleasurable places to live. //

His master's amused answer to the unasked question seemed to echo deep in his mind. A furrow appeared between elegant eyebrows as he realized that this new bond would take some getting used to.

// Obi-Wan... // he felt a gentle mental caress, then was lifted and turned so that he was sitting across Qui-Gon's lap. He squirmed, disconcerted.

"I'm not a child," he complained, trying to wriggle loose.

"Then stop acting like one. We need to talk and I would like to see your face and have you in my arms... if you don't mind?" Qui-Gon let the question hang in the air between them.

His master's return to his normal 'teaching' tone soothed the agitation that Obi-Wan hadn't realized he'd been feeling. "I'm sorry, Master. I guess all this," gesturing vaguely at their intimate position, "has left me a bit uncentered."

"Which is exactly what we need to discuss. Do you remember when our bond first formed?"

Obi-Wan nodded, eyes softening with memories of their first battles together, the first time Qui-Gon had called him 'Padawan', and the first time he'd heard that deep, steadying voice in his mind.

"And how you needed to learn how and when to shield? Well, this is much the same, except this time we both need to learn. I have no desire to invade your privacy or make you uncomfortable..." As he spoke, he suited actions to words and shielded himself back to their normal master/apprentice level, leaving just a hint of the strong emotions he'd been broadcasting.

// I'll understand if you're having second thoughts. //

Obi-Wan gasped, looking at Qui-Gon as if the older man had just physically pushed him away. "Master, no..." broadcasting his own love -- and fear of losing the new connection -- loud and clear. "I didn't mean that I wanted it to stop... just that it was... unexpected." He relaxed as he felt Qui-Gon's love wash over him again, and snuggled close. "You could've warned me," softening the rebuke with a quick, almost chaste kiss.

Qui-Gon smiled, reassured, and savored the sweetness of the kiss, pleased that as a lover Obi-Wan was proving to be every bit as affectionate as he had been as a boy - before they had let formality and restrained emotions build a wall between them.

"I could have... should have, apparently... but I must admit that I underestimated you -- both your abilities and how much you were willing to trust me." Unconsciously rubbing his hand in lazy circles on Obi-Wan's back, he chuckled softly, "You always have shown a natural talent for using the more physical aspects of the Force."

"But Master... I've always trusted you..." A finger was placed to his lips, silencing him.

"So you have, love... with everything except your feelings for me."

Obi-Wan blushed, then slipped his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, pressing his head into the hollow where the broad shoulder met the long line of his throat. "I wanted to, but I was so afraid that you would send me away -- that I would lose my place at your side -- and then after my birthday last year..." he broke off, shuddering with remembered pain, then continued in a hoarse whisper, knowing that Qui-Gon would hear him, "I thought I had ruined everything we already had, and I was sure that you would never want me... love me the way I love you."

Qui-Gon cuddled his padawan close, soothing him. "Sshh... that's all in the past, my Obi-Wan."

"But you were so distant... have been so many times this year ... sometimes I can barely feel you... like I'm alone again ... like when you rejected me -- rejected our bond -- when I was still a child."

For a moment Qui-Gon was quiet, absorbing the emotions his apprentice was reliving. He'd had no idea that Obi-Wan was still so haunted by that initial rejection -- one borne of his own fear of an expected and disturbingly strong bond -- or how sensitive the young man had been to his intense shielding during the past year. Concentrating on the here and now was one of his greatest strengths, but he was beginning to realize that sometimes healing the past was more important.

Placing one finger under the dimpled chin, he tilted the younger man's face up, meeting wide eyes bright with tears... just like those of the twelve year old boy he had repeatedly pushed away. He'd realized dimly at the time how much pain he'd caused, but hadn't found the courage to face it until it was almost too late... and had never really explained. Brushing his thumb across trembling lips, he knew he had to try.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you, then and now. I never meant to hurt you... " He paused to press a kiss to those soft lips, "I knew when I first saw you that if I let you in you would change my life... force me to open up my heart in a way that I didn't want to face. So then -- as now -- I fought it... almost too long. I was equally guilty of not trusting you with my feelings, but... as always... you reached out, and I couldn't help but respond... my courageous, beautiful Padawan. Without you -- your love, your laughter, your passion, " he shook his head, "I can't imagine life without you...."

// Never doubt that I love you, Obi-Wan, or that I want you. //

Obi-Wan felt his lover's words and feelings sink deep into his heart, healing scars that he'd hidden for so long that he'd almost forgotten he bore them. And with the healing came a renewed wave of longing. His blood quickening, he captured Qui-Gon's lips in a searing kiss, one that burned away all the guilt and tears and sadness. Twisting easily in his master's arms, he kneeled, then molded their bodies together, moaning deep in his throat as he felt the long, hard response to his kiss rub against his stomach. He ran his hands over the slick body in front of him -- tracing scars and muscles, tangling in wet hair, caressing newly-found sensitive spots -- and was aware of Qui-Gon's hands following similar paths on his own.

Lifting his lips from the intoxicating kiss, Obi-Wan dropped his head, flicking his tongue against his master's eyelobe, then sucked it into his mouth to worry it with his teeth. He smiled as Qui-Gon shivered and dropped his head back against the edge of the tub, giving him full access to the older man's throat. He wasted no time, exploring each inch with soft kisses, gentle bites and a tongue that seemed to leave fire in it's wake.

While nipping his way down Qui-Gon's collarbone, enjoying the moans rumbling from deep in his love's chest, Obi-Wan discovered that he'd run out of above-surface skin. Reaching out to the energy he could once again feel pulsing between them -- joining them -- he sent out gentle tendrils of the Force to cushion his master's head and support his shoulders, slid his hands behind and down, then stood, drawing Qui-Gon's lower body with him.

Midnight blue eyes rolled open slowly -- unfocused from the lazy torture his apprentice had been practicing on him -- just in time to see Obi-Wan bend at the waist to feast on the skin emerging from the water. Usually he was the one counseling patience while his padawan rushed ahead, but now... Qui-Gon groaned as teasing lips brushed lightly over a peaked nipple and moved on. Wrapping his legs around Obi-Wan's waist -- which caused a whole new set of tantalizing sensations, making him shiver in anticipation -- he growled the younger man's name, half in warning, half a plea.

"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan responded, looking up through red-blond lashes, the combination of mischief and lust in his eyes making a mockery of his innocent tone. He dipped his head back down, giving the neglected nipple a sharp nip, then soothed it gently with his tongue as his master's body arched, sending waves lapping against the side of the tub. Qui-Gon's grip on his body had freed his hands and as he transferred his mouth to the other nipple, he slid them lower, massaging... spreading... slim, elegant fingers gently slipping inside, curled slightly, stroking, searching for... "Yessss..." Qui-Gon hissed, his legs tightening, his long arms stretched taut across the length of the tub, hands gripping the edge.

Moving with the arch of his lover's body, Obi-Wan pressed in deeper, his other hand fumbling with a bottle of bath oil, a situation made worse when Qui-Gon chose that moment to send waves of the Force dancing across his body, phantom fingers caressing and stroking him.

"Qui-Gon," he groaned, in much the same tone his master had, finally managing to slip an oil-covered hand under the water.

"Yes... my Padawan," Qui-Gon panted, his lips drawing into a feral smile. // Mine... // he thought fiercely.

// Yours, Qui-Gon... // Obi-Wan agreed, moving both hands to his master's hips, // ...as you are mine... // completing the thought as he thrust forward, staking his claim, surrendering body and soul to their bond.

As Obi-Wan entered him -- claimed him, he thought with a shudder of raw passion -- Qui-Gon could sense the Force wrap around them in a cocoon of energy that pulsed with their shared rhythm, shielding them from the outside world, giving them the freedom to open to each other completely. He felt a pleasure so intense it was almost pain and knew that it was as much Obi-Wan's sensation as his own.

For several breaths Qui-Gon struggled to maintain control, entranced with the sight of his padawan -- head thrown back, the chords of his throat taut, the muscles of his chest and abdomen clenching and relaxing as his hips rocked -- intent on finding just the right movements to coax his lover toward the threshold of release, to anticipate his every desire.

Despite the mischievous nature that had been the bane of several teaching masters, Qui-Gon had known from the beginning that his apprentice was deadly serious about the things that truly mattered to him -- becoming a Jedi Knight and pleasing the master that had taken him on as padawan so reluctantly. Now he sensed Obi-Wan drawing on seven years of studying Qui-Gon -- learning how his body moved, training to follow his rhythm in battle, striving to complement him in every way, and he realized anew how much he had almost lost through his own stubbornness and fear.

"Obi-Wan," he moaned, overwhelmed by the erotic image before him and the devotion flowing from the younger man. Surrendering to both Obi-Wan's fevered touch and the intense need to be joined completely, Qui-Gon dropped what little shielding he had left. His eyes shut slowly and his head fell back, tossing restlessly, words of encouragement, love and desire dropping freely from his lips until Obi-Wan's slick hand gripped him, his strokes driving them to a faster rhythm, and the words dissolved into inarticulate cries of pleasure, echoed by his beloved apprentice.

Obi-Wan felt the Force ripple around them as Qui-Gon fell as deeply into their new bond as he had, then was pulled into a mental embrace even more intense and intimate than their physical one. He heard his master's words echo in his mind, felt their need cresting, and reached out, intent on satisfying that need, his stamina nearly exhausted. White hot images replaced the words in his mind. He felt Qui-Gon arch, then pulse in his hand... felt his own release surge within him... and then they were both coming... minds spiraling out into the Force as one, then separating just enough to spiral back down into two trembling bodies.

Obi-Wan let his knees buckle, dragging them both down to the bottom of the tub, where they embraced under the water until already strained lungs demanded air. As they surfaced, they noticed that the water had grown significantly cooler. Leaning laxly against the side, his master in a similar condition, Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile tiredly, his eyes caressing the object of all his fantasies.

Feeling his love's gaze, Qui-Gon pushed his hair out of his eyes and lifted his head. Taking in the tired grin and half- shut eyes that matched his own, he rumbled a single word..."Bed."

Raising an eyebrow, Obi-Wan responded incredulously, "Master?"

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Sleep, my Obi-Wan. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, love. And beyond the... considerable... physical effects, our minds need some time to adjust to 'all this,' his gesture matching Obi-Wan's earlier one.

Nodding his understanding, Obi-Wan stood, reaching out a hand to Qui-Gon. Once his master was safely standing, he climbed out of the tub and gathered up their towels, wrapping one around Qui-Gon as he climbed out and sank onto the dressing room bench.

Eyeing his tangled mass of hair in the mirror with trepidation, he pulled Obi-Wan's arms tightly around him along with the towel. // I love you. //

Pressing his cheek briefly to Qui-Gon's, then reaching for the comb, Obi-Wan responded, // And I you. //

Seeing the comb, Qui-Gon protested, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed with Obi-Wan tucked close against him.

"Obi-Wan..." a hint of command in his voice.

"Qui-Gon..." his apprentice replied in the same tone, watching his master's eyes crinkle with amusement at his impertinence. "You know this will be easier wet than dry. And I have better plans for this afternoon than untangling your hair," he continued with a wicked grin.

"Hmph," Qui-Gon's attempt at gruffness was quickly sabotaged by the trail of soft kisses dropped along his jawline.

"Just five minutes, my love, then we'll sleep," Obi-Wan cajoled, leaning heavily against him.

"Three. And sit with me before you fall," Qui-Gon replied, moving to straddle the bench.

"Yes, master," he agreed in his best 'obedient Padawan' voice, gratefully settling in behind his love, knees pressed to his hips, and started to run the comb through the long, wet hair.

It was closer to four minutes when Obi-Wan's practiced hands finished plaiting a thick braid and reached for a tie to secure the silky wet mass, but he sensed his master didn't mind the short delay.

In fact, Qui-Gon had slipped into a light trance, relaxing -- as always -- into his padawan's gentle touch, feeling first the comb, then slim fingers, slip through the silver-brown strands, those same fingers lightly massaging his scalp as they separated the hair into sections and began weaving the long braid.

Four minutes was actually fairly short... combing his master's hair, like the massages, was a task Obi-Wan usually lingered over, using the intimate moments as a small way to express his unspoken love and be able to touch the man who had become everything to him over the years. Smiling sleepily, Obi-Wan slid forward, wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon's waist and nuzzling at the sensitive skin the braid had exposed.

"Mmm," Qui-Gon murmured appreciatively. "Ready for a nap, love?" his own smile evident in his voice. Obi-Wan's enjoyment of extra sleep -- due in no small part the restless nature that burned energy so quickly when he was awake, despite the thin veneer of Jedi serenity -- was well known to his master, as was his tendency to express that same restlessness in his sleep, and he couldn't resist teasing, "Although how I'm supposed to get any rest with you tossing and turning and most likely stealing all the covers..." He stopped as he felt Obi-Wan tense, then probe lightly at his mind, making sure that he was indeed teasing.

He sent a wave of loving reassurance to his apprentice, and was relieved to feel him snuggle closer and respond in kind. "Well, Master, I suppose if you were to hold me close enough, you might be able to lessen the disturbance."

"I shall keep that in mind, Padawan," he responded as he stood, drawing the younger man with him. Pulling them both clear of the bench and turning in Obi-Wan's arms, he took the advice immediately to heart and folded his love into his arms briefly, then led him back into the bedroom.

Letting the towel drop to the floor, Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan collapsed onto the bed on his stomach, then rolled over onto his side, watching him expectantly. Sleepy eyes drew him down into an even sleepier kiss as he settled down gratefully into the welcoming softness. Stretching out on his back, he sighed contently as Obi-Wan threw an arm over his possessively, settling his head on his chest.

Obi-Wan felt his master's arm circling him, hugging him even closer, heard him whisper "Close enough, Padawan?" He nodded, "I love you, Qui-Gon," he mumbled, already dozing off.

"And I you, my Obi-Wan," was the last thing he heard.

Obi-Wan awoke around midday, disoriented and alone. For just a moment he felt a familiar ache, thinking he'd been dreaming again, then realized that his head was buried in a pillow smelling distinctly of Qui-Gon and his master's sheets were tangled around his legs. He smiled briefly, then rolled over and sat up, puzzled. Surveying the wreckage he'd made of the bed, he wondered if perhaps his restlessness really had driven Qui-Gon to seek sleep elsewhere.

// No, silly Padawan // came the immediate response, along with a wave of love that wrapped around him like a blanket. Qui-Gon sounded well rested and quite pleased with himself.

// Where are you, Master? //

// You tell me. //

Obi-Wan concentrated on one of his favorite mental exercises -- seeing through his master's eyes -- now made easier by the depth of their new bond. He saw a riot of color... exotic plantlife protected from Coruscant's often temperamental weather patterns by a forcefield... equally brilliant birds flitting among the leaves. He smelled the light fragrance of flowers mixed in with the rich scent of fertile earth.

// The gardens, Master. // He smiled, sharing Qui-Gon's appreciation of both the beauty and the deeper meaning of the gardens.

The Jedi Temple was considered ascetic, even cold, by most visitors -- it's understated yet elegant aesthetics driven more by practicality than the craving for luxury so common throughout most of the rest of the capital. The long hallways of doors leading to sparse quarters and even sparser practice rooms; the measured paces of Masters, Knights, Padawans and students, most in unornamented earth-tone clothing; a quiet almost unimaginable in a complex inhabited by so many beings -- all a perfect reflection of the tightly controlled serenity the Jedi presented to the galaxy. The wildness and sensuality of the gardens provided the balance... hinted at the passion for life hidden beneath the surface of even the most stoic Jedi.

Sinking deeper into the exercise, Obi-Wan felt the warmth of the midday sun, the cool moisture of the air, and the tingle of the lifeforce emanating from the lush growth surrounding his master. He was startled into a laugh as he felt Qui-Gon's stomach growl, echoed quickly by his own.

// Are you hungry, my Obi-Wan? // came the deep, sensuous purr in his mind.

// Yes, Master, // his own intimate tone giving the distinct impression that his hunger was not limited to food.

// Come join me then, love. // Just before the connection faded, Obi-Wan felt an answering heat in his master's body... one that had him slipping into his clothes and headed to the gardens at a pace that reflected more passion than serenity.

As he approached the more heavily trafficed corridors, Obi-Wan slowed his pace to one more befitting a padawan of his maturity. He knew that his master -- always a private man -- would not appreciate him doing anything that would broadcast the change in their relationship to the entire Temple, especially the Council.

As if the thought itself had conjured him, Obi-Wan suddenly realized that Mace Windu was headed towards him. He winced mentally, and felt Qui-Gon's attention focus on him. He sent a quick reassurance, then shielded his mind. This was one situation where having his master's mind closely linked with his own would be counterproductive.

He could remember when Master Windu and Qui-Gon had been close friends -- back in the earliest days of his apprenticeship -- but as time went on, their disagreements over Jedi policy and the Code had become more frequent, and once Master Windu had taken a council seat, the atmosphere between the two masters had grown increasingly cooler.

Obi-Wan allowed himself a small sigh. At least it wasn't Master Yoda... he knew of no one harder to hide secrets from, especially those involving strong emotions. And besides, it was highly likely that Master Windu would just pass right by....

"Ah, Padawan Kenobi -- just the person I was looking for."

Obi-Wan bowed, then kept his head lowered respectfully, simultaneously avoiding the Councilmember's sharp dark eyes. "Yes, Master Windu. How may I be of service?"

"I need to speak with you about the report from your last mission. You made some very... unique... observations regarding the relationship between the royal families of the two systems. I'd like to discuss how you came to those conclusions. Would now be a convenient time?"

Obi-Wan paused, unsure how to respond, hesitant to refuse a Councilmember, but still feeling the slow burn at the other end of his bond with Qui-Gon. Besides, he had a strong feeling that in this case 'unique' meant 'controversial' and he did not yet have his master's patience when it came to defending his intuitions to the Council.

"What is it, Padawan Kenobi? Are you on some sort of errand for Master Qui-Gon?"

"In a sense, Master Windu. My master has requested that I join him in the gardens. But if the matter is urgent..." he replied, finding a compromise between truth and obedience.

"In the gardens?" the older man asked softly, raising an eyebrow. Then, as if recalling himself from a stray thought, he continued in a more normal tone, "No, no... nothing urgent. Go ahead and join your master. We'll talk later."

Obi-Wan bowed, then continued on his way, thanking the Force for small favors. Mace Windu watched him go, not quite sure how to feel. Obi-Wan may have thought he'd hidden things well enough, but to someone who'd grown from student to master with Qui-Gon -- who had more than once been the young man on his way to the gardens to meet that particular Jedi -- the situation was obvious.

He was years past jealousy... the last time he and Qui-Gon had been together was shortly before Xanatos turned... but was still uneasy. While not strictly against the Code as long as both parties were consenting adults, a physical relationship between master and padawan was not to be entered into lightly, and anything deeper -- assuming both Jedi were willing and capable, as these two very well might be, despite Kenobi's youth -- should be brought to the Council's attention. He should talk to Yoda... but tomorrow would be soon enough. He smiled and continued on his way, thinking that there was no point in disrupting the boy's birthday celebration with a Council meeting.

Qui-Gon relaxed as he felt Obi-Wan's shields drop and sensed the younger man's continued approach.

// What was it, love? //

Obi-Wan paused as he reached the entrance to the gardens, searching for his master's unique Force signature.

// Nothing important, Master. Master Windu apparently has some questions about our last mission. He said it was not urgent and that he would speak with me later. //

Turning to the right, he followed a narrow walkway toward one of the sheltered areas used for private meditation.

// Mace, hmmm? //

Obi-Wan was about to question his master's combination of bemusement and uneasiness, but as he ducked through the flowering vines that shielded the entrance to the small grove, he was temporarily struck dump bu the site that greeted him -- a barefoot, shirtless Qui-Gon stretched out on an ornately woven, luxurious-looking carpet, hair glinting copper in the sunlight, surrounded by a picnic lunch made up of their favorite delicacies.

Qui-Gon's smile grew when he saw his apprentice's reaction. "What is it, my Padawan?" he purred in a low, possessive tone that weakened Obi-Wan's knees. The amusement glittering in his eyes erupted into soft laughter as Obi-Wan's jaw dropped open, but no sound came out.

The gentle laughter prompted Obi-Wan to regain control quickly. His mouth snapped shut, settling into a familiar wry grin as he noted with some amusement that -- unlike his jaw -- some parts of his body seemed to be having no trouble keeping up with the situation.

The grin widened as he made the latest in a growing list of astounding realizations -- his master... the venerable Qui-Gon Jinn -- was a tease. 'Fair enough,' he thought to himself, shielding carefully, 'two can play at that game.' Letting the grin fade into proper Jedi solemnity, he walked towards Qui-Gon, banked desire adding an extra sensuousness to his already sinuous stride.

Qui-Gon resisted an unJedi-like urge to squirm as his apprentice got closer. The gray-blue swirl of Obi-Wan's ever-changing eyes promised mischief, while the way his body moved promised so much more. He settled for rolling from his side onto his back, pillowing his head on his arms.

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees beside Qui-Gon, then shifted his weight to lean across him, one arm braced on the far side of his body, the tail of his braid trailing across his master's stomach. Letting his eyes drift quickly over the food, then more slowly over Qui-Gon's exposed flesh, he finally broke the silence. "You've laid out quite a tempting feast, my Master. Now, where shall I begin?"

The husky tone combined with the heat of Obi-Wan's gaze sent a ripple of desire through Qui-Gon's long body and he found it increasing hard to resist pulling the younger man to him and kissing him senseless, especially when Obi-Wan stretched across him, gathering selections from several nearby bowls. His reply -- more breathless than even he'd expected -- drew Obi-Wan's eyes back to his and he was relieved to see the mischievous gray fading, giving way to the intense crystal blue that, until this morning, he'd only seen behind the matching blue of his apprentice's blade. "With whatever you desire most..."

With some effort, Obi-Wan maintained the slight physical distance between them, but couldn't resist sending // You, my love. Always. // across their bond. Holding a piece of golden fruit over Qui-Gon's broad chest, he squeezed, letting the juice drop and pool. Setting the crushed fruit aside, he lowered his head and began leisurely licking the sweet, tangy liquid from his master's skin, lavishing extra attention on the dark, peaked nipples. The taste, as always, reminded him of Bandomeer.

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon shift, then felt a large, gentle hand being run through his hair, the other tugging at his tunic, intending to pull him up for a kiss. He resisted, then lifted his head. "Now Master," he began, mischief lighting up every feature of his handsome face, "did you or did you not invite me down here for a meal?" Qui-Gon nodded, confused, but willing to play along. "Then with all due respect, I must insist you let me continue." Qui-Gon lifted his hands in surrender, then placed them back under his head while Obi-Wan watched with a satisfied smile.

Once Qui-Gon was settled, Obi-Wan began decorating his body with some of the food he'd selected, alternately feeding Qui-Gon morsels of his favorites, being careful to keep his fingers clear of the eager mouth that tried to capture them and distract him from his purpose. Once he was sure the older Jedi had actually gotten something resembling a light meal into him, he sat back on his heels to survey his handiwork.

"Obi-Wan, what... "

"Hush, Master. You'll spill."

"But..." Obi-Wan leaned forward quickly and silenced the older man with a quick, hard kiss, then said quietly, in a tone that promised great reward for continued patience, "My turn, Qui-Gon, and you are the main course." He smiled again at Qui-Gon's quiet groan, then began his own meal with the slices of the familiar golden fruit decorating his lover's collarbones.

// Tease! // Qui-Gon accused.

// I am your student, Beloved Master. // Obi-Wan replied.

He worked his way down slowly, gentle bites and an occasional sharp nip accompanying the laving of his tongue, relishing the delicious mixture of flavors almost as much as the assorted noises and restrained squirming that greeted each new assault. By the time he was licking sweet custard from the taut stomach, Obi-Wan's mind was being treated to an almost steady stream of curses, pleas and praise that echoed the low growls, moans and groans rumbling from his master's chest.

As Obi-Wan's tongue dipped into his navel to capture the last of the dessert, Qui-Gon -- finally free to move -- cried out and arched up against the teasing lips. His hands had long ago left off supporting his head in favor of digging into the weave of the carpet beneath him, and he ached with the need to touch his apprentice.

Taking advantage of the movement, Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon's leggings a quick tug, slipping them past the lifted hips, then delicately Force-pushed them down and off the long legs as his master's body fell back to the ground. Fevered deep blue eyes met his in dual entreaty -- wanting to touch as much as to be touched.

Done with his teasing, Obi-Wan gave in to his lover's unspoken plea, quickly slipping out of his own clothes before stretching out alongside his master, his head resting near the older man's hip. Feeling Qui-Gon's hands running up his thighs, then caressing as far up his back as his long arms could reach, he leaned forward, savoring the seductive musky scent before taking a long, slow taste with a light touch of his tongue.

Qui-Gon muffled a loud moan against his apprentice's thigh, then pulled the young Jedi closer to respond in kind. Gasping as he was suddenly enfolded in velvety softness, he arched helplessly into the tight suction before regaining enough control to shift Obi-Wan up and over him. Shivers ran up and down his spine as his padawan took advantage of the change in position to take him even deeper into that wet heat. His breathing ragged, he pulled down sharply, eager to share his intense pleasure with his beloved apprentice. Lips sliding along hard flesh, he felt the vibrations of Obi-Wan's hum of pleasure course through him like a bolt of lightening, and this time it was he who surrendered first to the pulsing corona of energy surrounding them.

// Obi-Wan... Love... // his mind called out, searching. The response was immediate, the connection even stronger than before as both Jedi learned to trust in its loving embrace.

Obi-Wan felt his master's mind and spirit flowing around him ... through him... intimate mental caresses once again reflecting and enhancing their physical ones. // Qui-Gon... // his mindvoice twisting into a desperate moan as he reached for shreds of control as lightly grazing teeth, strong lips and a demanding tongue left him trembling helplessly in their wake.

Arching up as his own wave of ecstasy crested, Qui-Gon reflexively tightened his grip on the slim hips above him, feeling a strong pulse against his tongue as his young love tumbled over the edge to join him. Wrapped in a suddenly white-hot cloak of energy -- fed by and feeding their desire -- the two Jedi were caught briefly in a flashfire, their release drawn out almost painfully before their bodies yielded to the intensity and they began the dizzying trip back down.

Obi-Wan feel to the side, panting, curled slightly to rest his head against his master's thigh, momentarily unable to move beyond making that simple contact. He felt a long arm drop heavily across his hip and realized the older man was in no better condition. Waiting while his heart slowed -- no longer feeling like it wanted to pound its way out of his chest -- he took deep breaths, regaining his center, sensing Qui-Gon doing the same.

As Qui-Gon's own breathing calmed, he reached out both physically and mentally, wanting Obi-Wan back in his arms. He heard a low groan, felt his apprentice's body twisting, then sliding up his body until the spiky hair was tucked securely under his chin. Slipping an arm around his young love, Qui-Gon sighed with contentment before breaking the silence.

"So, did you enjoy your lunch, my Padawan?" his gentle tone making the formal title an endearment.

Obi-Wan stretched lanquidly against Qui-Gon before lifting his head to answer. "Mmm hmm, but... I am curious how you got all this ready so quickly."

The response was equal parts smugness and good humor, "Ah, well... never underestimate your old master, my love. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Yes, master," Obi-Wan replied meekly, then proceeded to ruin the effect by jabbing the Jedi master repeated in the ribs, "and for the last time, Qui-Gon... You. Are. Not. Old."

Laughing, Qui-Gon caught up his scowling apprentice in both arms and rolled them over, tickling the sensitive skin of his throat with his beard until Obi-Wan made a sound suspiciously close to a giggle. At that, he leaned back onto one elbow, stroking a prominent cheekbone lightly with his free hand. "I suppose I'm not so ancient after all," he said quietly. "You've kept me young, my Obi-Wan."

Blinking up at his master, Obi-Wan easily picked up on the memories flashing across his mind -- memories of a man nearly broken by the betrayal of another padawan, his heart and soul locked behind thick walls, growing old and tired before his time. A man determined to live a life of loneliness and duty until an equally determined boy pushed through those walls with a seemingly endless trust in both the stubborn Jedi master and the Force that had brought them together. "Qui-Gon..." he whispered, then pulled the older man down into a long, slow kiss.

They spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing together in the garden, sometimes kissing and trading soft caresses, or nibbling on the remnants of their midday feast, but mostly talking and enjoying each other's company as they always had.

As the warmth of afternoon slid into the chill of evening, the two Jedi finally searched out their clothing -- Qui-Gon's being mostly stacked neatly to the side, while Obi-Wan's lay in a tangled pile of biege cloth. Smiling sheepishly, Obi-Wan handed Qui-Gon the leggings he'd just retrieved from across the clearing.

"Here they are, Master. It seems I 'pushed' a little harder than I intended."

"'There is no passion; there is serenity.'" Qui-Gon quoted solemnly, then let his voice reflect the glint of humor in his eyes, "As with all your exercises, my young Padawan, you must continue to practice until you have learned control."

"Yes, Master," the younger man agreed happily, reaching up to steal a kiss from smiling lips, then began gathering up dishes while Qui-Gon finished dressing.

As Qui-Gon helped him roll up the beautiful carpet, Obi-Wan was reminded of yet another mystery. "Master, where did this come from? I don't recall ever seeing it before, and I'm almost certain I would have," he asked, remembering the feel of the soft weave against his skin.

Qui-Gon's smile broadened briefly as he caught the sensory memory. // Hedonist // he sent back, the answered aloud, "It's a gift from many years ago. I've had it in storage, but I thought it might look good in our bedroom...."

Obi-Wan froze, letting the implications of that remark sink in. Our bedroom. They'd been assigned to the same suite at the Temple for seven years and often shared a room on missions, but this sounded like something entirely different, more... permanent. His eyes widening, he shot a glance at the older man, seeing his wild hope verified in the piercing blue eyes. Stunned, he just stood there for a moment. He hadn't honestly thought past today... no, more to the point, he'd resigned himself to thinking that 'today' would never happen. He suddenly realized that Qui-Gon was waiting, tension vibrating beneath the calm surface. How could he ever doubt...?

"Yes, Master. I believe it would," he answered casually, flooding their bond with his heart's response. // Yes, Qui-Gon... a thousand times, yes... there's nothing I want more. //

Catching the smaller man up in a fierce embrace, Qui-Gon let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. // My beloved imp.... //

His arms wrapped tightly around Qui-Gon's waist, Obi-Wan snuggled into the muscular chest contentedly until a memory from earlier in the day intruded. "Master?"

"Yes, love?"

"Are you sure about this? I don't want to cause you any more trouble with the Council and..."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon interrupted, grabbing his shoulders and holding him at arm's length. "Do you love me?" He nodded. "And as my apprentice, will you still obey me on missions and with regard to your training?" More nods. "And you will continue to conduct yourself as befits a Jedi in public?"

Grinning now, Obi-Wan glanced at the remains of their picnic and quirked an eyebrow at his master.

"This is not technically 'public', Padawan. Now answer me."

"Yes, Master. You know that I will."

"Good. Then I'm sure, and I will deal with the Council as I always have - honestly. Obi-Wan," releasing one shoulder to twine the long braid around his fingers, "our situation is not unheard of, just... rare." Forcing himself to release the younger man and take a step back, he continued. "Now... take these plates back to the kitchens while I arrange to have the rug delivered, then meet me at the lift. Oh, and do something about your braid before anyone else sees you. It's trying to bend in about four different directions at once."

Obi-Wan held up his braid, staring pointedly at the spots where Qui-Gon's fingers had tweaked the smooth lines into odd angles, then back at his master, who had the courtesy to blush slightly. Tugging on various strings to straighten out the kinks, he bowed, then gathered up the plates. As he ducked back through the vines, he glanced back and saw Qui-Gon speaking quietly into his commlink.

A short time later an appropriately serene Obi-Wan met an equally peaceful Qui-Gon at the lift to their rooms. Qui-Gon nodded approvingly as his apprentice joined him, braid fully restored to its usual sleekness, arms tucked into the sleeves of his robe, dipping his head respectfully in silent greeting to his master. To anyone passing in the hall it appeared as though nothing had changed between the two Jedi, but inside -- within their minds -- the strengthened bond fairly glowed.

As they waiting for and entered the lift, Obi-Wan could sense Qui-Gon's unspoken praise of his demeanor and allowed himself a slight grin at the surprise behind it. Had his master really thought he would be given to wanton displays of affection in a public hallway within the Jedi Temple? He jumped as the doors shut, feeling the tickle of a beard and then soft lips along the side of his neck.

// The surprise was at my own successful restrainst, my love, not yours. This is not the first time watching you walk down a hall towards me has made we want to do this, // he continued, Obi-Wan's earlobe now caught gently between his teeth, // but it was the first time I knew what I was missing. //

Eyes slightly glazed, Obi-Wan leaned back against Qui-Gon, ready to step away if the lift showed any sign of slowing before their floor. "Master," he said, his voice low and tense, " we may have to discuss your definition of 'public'..."

He heard a soft chuckle next to his ear and was both dismayed and relieved to feel Qui-Gon take a small step back. "Quite right, Padawan. There are probably several ground rules we need to discuss. The first being that in this I am not your master... you have as much say as I do in what we do and do not do, taking our duties as Jedi into account first, of course. I have to trust you to make decisions appropriate to the conditions and your beliefs, and I hope you will trust me to do the same."

"Of course, Master."

"Good. There are times you must obey me without question -- I am responsible for you -- but other than those times... I am training A Jedi Knight, after all, not a robot. And I could not stand the thought of you sharing my bed simply because your 'master' wished you to." He fell silent as he exited the lift.

// Then trust me, Qui-Gon. // Obi-Wan replied, sending a pulse of love and reassurance as he hurried to catch up. He quickly drew one hand out of the dark robe, bringing it to his lips. // I know my heart. //

"So this is private enough, love?" Qui-Gon murmured, amusement clear in his voice. Obi-Wan did not respond, but also did not release his grip, even as they entered their darkened suite.

And so it was that -- as the lights flicked on and a shout rang out -- Obi-Wan Kenobi faced his first surprise party hand-in-hand with his new lover, the smugly happy Qui-Gon Jinn.

Fin (unless I find a bunny with a sequel in mind!)