Summary: A little accident leads to ..umm..therapy?
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just borrowing.
Note: All my stories have been so depressing lately I just
wrote this to cheer myself up! Apologies to who ever it is that
does that 'Sunscreen' song, from which I borrowed the first
line.
Take care of your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.
I'm not sure where I heard that particular gem of wisdom but I
learned the truth of it on a mission with my master on the
planet Tel'lar.
The people were in the middle of a violent political upheaval
and my master and I were in the process of chasing down a group
of dissidents who had tried to blow up the main senate hall.
Even with the pouring rain and treacherously muddy ground we
were gaining on them when we came to a wide trench in the
ground. Ordinarily it wouldn't have been a problem. I've leapt
further distances under worse circumstances, but in this case I
made a slight miscalculation. I didn't take the mud-slick
ground into account and the second my feet touched the
embankment they flew out from under me and sent me tumbling
backwards into the trench.
That's the last I remember of it, falling backwards and a
burst of hot orange light blooming in my head. After that,
nothing until I woke in the infirmary on Coruscant. I heard the
rest of the story from the nursing staff.
My Master had seen me fall and used the Force to catch me and
haul me back up. He took me back to the Palace before again
going after the little band of renegades. Learning that he had
caught them, no thanks to me, filled me with a mixture of
relief and embarrassment. That was all the nurses would tell me
before they put me back to sleep and by then I was more than
agreeable.
When I woke again Qui-Gon was there. I wasn't sure whether to
be pleased or wary but he didn't reprimand me, only apologized
for not being there when I had first awoke. He had been with
the Council giving his report and since I hadn't been on my
deathbed they had demanded that he come.
He couldn't stay long but before the healers chased him out he
told me that when I was better we would work on some balance
exercises. Oh, joy.
I found out, to my surprise, that the deathbed hadn't been as
far away as I'd thought. That last bright light I'd seen had
been from me hitting my head on something on my way down the
ravine, probably a rock, and I'd managed to fracture my skull.
Qui-Gon's getting me back to the Palace as quickly as he had
had saved my life, yet another debt to Qui-Gon that I can add
to my collection. Still, it could have been worse, I could have
broken my neck.
I'd also done a nice job on one of my knees, torn ligaments
and muscles, a whole list of them that I did not particularly
want to remember. It was bad enough that it hurt like the
blazes, I didn't need to categorize every ache.
A few days in the infirmary I was declared well enough to be
released into my master's care, with a warning that my knee was
going to be stiff and tender for some time and that Master
Qui-Gon would be helping me go through some therapeutic
exercises.
Lucky me.
Stiff and tender, as it turns out, was not quite accurate
description. Stiff was close enough, I couldn't even bend my
knee at first although after a few trips to the therapy room
(or the torture chamber as I was starting to call it privately)
that stiffness was easing.
No, it was the word 'tender' I objected to; saying that my
knee was tender was like saying that the galaxy was big or that
Coruscant was crowded. No, no, 'tender' was not the right word.
'Painful' worked a little better, but I think 'agonizing' was
probably the best description. Every little therapy session we
went through was absolutely agonizing, so much so that at the
end of each session I had helpless tears streaming down my
cheeks and I could barely hobble back to my quarters. Agonizing
enough that I began to dread my therapy and I flinched whenever
Qui-Gon touched my knee, even lightly.
After one particularly grueling session I was walking back to
our quarters with my master. All right, -he- was walking. In my
case, limping was probably closer to the truth, although I hid
it as well as I could until I got back to my own room. I
managed to strip down to my shorts before I collapsed on my bed
and let the tears I'd been holding back flow.
Not two minutes after I'd closed the door it was opened again
by my master, who walked right in without even an 'excuse me'.
I sat up, scrubbing at my face hastily with the back of my hand
but Qui-Gon said nothing. He simple walked over to the bed,
carrying a decent sized basin and he sat it on the floor before
kneeling down next to the bed.
He still didn't speak but he lifted something from the basin.
A towel? He wrung out the excess water before settling it on my
knee.
I'd already pulled away a tiny bit out of reflex but the
second the wet heat from that towel registered I nearly melted
into the bed. Nothing had ever felt as wonderful to me as that
damp, hot towel did at that moment. I nearly moaned aloud as
some of the ever-present pain in my knee finally eased.
For the next half-hour or so neither of us spoke. Qui-Gon
changed the towels every time they grew cool, working quietly
and efficiently and I just lay there as limp as a rag doll. A
rampaging bantha could have burst in at that moment and I would
have had to let it trample me because I couldn't move to save
my life.
And then the towels were removed and my pleasure reached a new
zenith as Qui-Gon's hands replaced them. His fingers were slick
with some kind of sweet smelling oil that he must have brought
with him and they moved over my leg knowingly, touching in just
the right spots to ease tension and pain. I did groan then but
by then, I was too far-gone to care.
This, however, wasn't exactly as relaxing as the towels had
been. In fact, then tension in my knee was turning into an
entirely different kind of tension.
Contrary to popular belief, I'm not exactly innocent and
neither am I blind. My master is an extremely attractive man, a
fact that I became aware of about five years ago when puberty
hit. I'd hid my attraction then and I was still hiding it now
even though it was plain that lust had over the years changed
into something a lot closer to love. I couldn't speak of it,
not while I was still his Padawan, it wouldn't be appropriate
and the last thing I wanted to do was say something and have it
turn out that Qui-Gon didn't feel the same and then have him be
stuck training me, knowing how I felt. I would never want to
put my master into that position.
And while my feeling may have turned towards love, lust hadn't
faded one damn bit and if he didn't stop rubbing my leg I was
going to embarrass myself beyond repair.
I leaned up on my elbows and tried to pull away but Qui-on
refused to release me.
"I'm almost finished, Padawan," he murmured, his attention
focused solely on his task. I was about to insist but he chose
that moment to slide his hand further up my leg and massaged
the muscles of my inner thigh. And then it really was too late.
I closed my eyes, contemplating the possibility of terminal
embarrassment as my body betrayed me. But Qui-Gon didn't notice
or at least he was too polite to say anything because he didn't
even pause, just calmly continued working out the knots in my
leg.
Maybe he just thought it was a reaction to being touched? I
clung to that theory hopefully. After all, his hands were quite
near a fairly sensitive area and a physical response doesn't
mean that much.
In fact, a response was almost guaranteed considering where he
was touching now. His fingers had gentled considerably and now
they were rubbing tiny circles on my inner thigh, edging slowly
upward.
I held my breath, hardly aware that I was doing so. He
couldn't help but see my erection now his fingers were only
centimeters away and moving closer still. I waited, holding
perfectly still as if afraid that if I moved the spell would be
broken. How far was he going to take this?
His hands halted a moment later and I exhaled shakily, unsure
if I was relieved or disappointed.
"Obi-Wan?"
It was only the second time he'd spoken since coming into my
room and it startled me a bit. I opened my eyes to find him
watching me, his hands still resting on my thighs and my breath
caught again at the question in the blue depths of his eyes,
the same question that had been hidden in the syllables of my
name.
He was asking permission.
Probably a few thousand questions flew through my mind, some
of them for Qui-Gon and some for myself. A thousand questions
but only one answer.
I nodded and just in case he didn't see that I forced a
hoarse, "Yes," out of my suddenly tight throat.
His fingers resumed their journey upward, lightly stroking my
belly, my hips, my flanks anywhere but where I wanted him to
touch and I closed my eyes as a frustrated whimper escaped my
control.
Finally just one finger traced the length of my hard shaft
through the thin fabric of my shorts and I had to fight the
urge to arch upward, letting him set the pace.
His hand left me abruptly and then both his hands went to my
hips, urging me to lift up and he quickly tugged my shorts
down, leaving me completely bare. And then Qui-Gon's
oil-slicked hands were finally touching me, one circling my
cock and the other sliding between my spread legs to gently
stroke my balls, his fingers combing through the coarse hair. I
bit my lip, stifling pleas that bubbled up within me as he
petted my heavy erection oh, so gently.
Then the hand on my shaft tightened, squeezing gently as it
slid upward and against my will my hips followed it, arching up
and I could not have prevented it anymore than I could have
stopped the hoarse cry that was wrenched from my constricting
throat.
He stopped instantly, the hand that was between my legs
shifting to my hip to hold me firmly down.
"Obi-Wan, if you want your knee to get better you are going to
have to relax and hold still," he scolded me. But how could I,
how -could- I hold still when his hand was stroking me with
exquisite slowness, stopping if I moved even the tiniest bit
until I thought I would rupture something trying to hold still
or simple pass out, completely overwhelmed by sensation.
I was lucky that he didn't hold my wild trembling against me
because nothing short of unconsciousness was going to stop
that. After only a few minutes of those slow, careful touches,
I was shaking so badly that the bed was quivering with me. My
world had narrowed to hold only this room, to Qui-Gon's oiled
hand squeezing my aching flesh, his other hand resting lightly
on my hip and the almost irresistible desire to -move-.
And just when I would have broken, my willpower burned away by
the heat of my need and I would have moved in spite of myself,
he stopped, pulling away completely.
No. It wasn't fair, it wasn't and I closed my eyes so tightly
that they hurt, my breaths coming in painful heaves as I
struggled for control. I couldn't move not even enough to touch
myself and I didn't want my release that way besides. I just
lay there, biting my lip until I tasted the bitter copper of
blood to hold back the scream of betrayal and frustration that
was caught behind my teeth.
I was so caught up in the agony of my unfulfillment that I
only heard the faint rustling sound vaguely, in some sane
corner of my mind and I only realized that it was from clothing
dropping to the floor when I felt warm, bare skin against my
own.
My eyes flew open to see my master kneeling on the bed, moving
to straddle me and he was completely and gloriously naked. And
very aroused. I had seen Qui-Gon naked before but never like
this, his cock hard and crimson, curving up his belly, the tip
glistening wetly and certainly he had never been on his knees
astride me, except perhaps in my wildest fantasies.
"Master..." was all I managed to whisper and I wasn't
completely sure what I had even meant to say, if I'd meant to
plead with him to continue or to ask if this was really what he
wanted, that he wasn't just doing this for me. But I certainly
never considered asking him to stop, never that.
And then my chance to speak was lost, Qui-Gon leaned forward
and kissed me, pressed his lips to mine with the same
tenderness that he had started this with, although in my
frustration I was closer to calling teasing than tenderness.
His tongue very lightly traced my lips, brushed against my
teeth before he pulled back, feathering kisses across my face
to my ear.
"Don't move," breathed against the sensitive flesh of my ear
and I shivered minutely.
But I didn't move.
I held perfectly still as he slid backwards, his inner thighs
rubbing against my sides as he positioned himself over me. He
reached back and steadied my erection with one hand. I jerked
slightly, my control wavering briefly. I was so ready by now
that even that light touch was nearly unbearable.
He shifted his hips slightly and then I felt the tip of my
cock pressed very lightly against his anus and that soft,
barely-there touch was so exquisitely perfect that I was
suddenly struck with the terror that this wasn't real. That it
was only a dream, in a moment I would wake and the beautiful
phantasm above me would vanish, leaving me with nothing but an
aching erection and empty arms.
But then Qui-Gon pressed downward, leaning backwards and I
slid just inside, my fears vaporizing like morning mist, the
insubstantial cobwebs of uncertainty burned away by the heat of
desire, the heat of his body enveloping just the very head of
my shaft.
I opened my eyes, not even remembering that I had closed them,
and looked at him, etching the sight into my memory. On his
knees over me, leg muscles straining as he sought to lower
himself a centimeter at a time, his chest and shoulders rising
rapidly with his breaths and gleaming with perspiration in the
diffused light. And my cock half- buried inside him, edging
ever so slowly deeper.
He moved again, pushing harder and I moaned as he gained
another inch. The oil eased the passage somewhat but he was
still almost excruciatingly tight and I knew that this must be
hurting him, he was biting his lip, his face taut but he didn't
stop and it never occurred to me to ask him to. A last push and
I was all the way inside and Qui- Gon went still, panting, and
rested his hands on my chest. Without thinking, I covered them
with my own. I almost jerked them back when I realized I'd
moved after he had told me not to but Qui-Gon caught them and
held them tightly, using my hands for balance when he finally
started to move.
He raised up until I was barely inside him and stopped,
hovering over me like that while I fought the almost agonizing
compulsion to simply thrust upward and take. The very last
scrap of my control was tearing free from my grip when he at
last sat back down with aching slowness until I was again
seated in his body's tight clasp.
Another eternal wait and he did it again, gradually building a
careful rhythm of deep thrusts and pauses and I let him take
me, would have allowed him anything in my tormented bliss so
long as he didn't stop.
Almost imperceptibly, he started to move faster, rising up and
dropping down now with some force. Everything had fallen away
from me by then, Coruscant, my room, my knee everything but
this man moving above me in the most exquisite torture.
Another thrust, hard this time and Qui-Gon threw his head back
with a loud gasp, his breathing quick and harsh and I was
distantly grateful that he was as affected by this as I was.
One of his hands, still entangled in mine, went to his own
cock which had been bobbing free as he moved and he used my
hand to caress the hard length, and I managed to rub my thumb
across the slick tip, relishing his startled moan.
He was moving very quickly now, pushing down hard, his control
slipping and with what little thought I still possessed I
squeezed his cock tightly in my fist, stroking fast and hard
and he nearly screamed, a loud outcry of pleasure as he came,
thrusting helplessly into the tunnel of my hand.
It was too much, the feel of his cock straining, spurting
milky fluid over our combined hands and my stomach. His muscles
clenched tightly, rhythmically around my cock, wrenching a
hoarse scream from me as I finally lost the battle and moved,
arching my hips up hard, once, twice and I came, a wave of
sweet ecstasy cresting over me. I tore my hands free from his,
grabbing his hips and jerking him down as I struggled beneath
him, trying to get deeper still as I spilled my seed within
him.
Finally, the tide receded and I collapsed backwards onto the
bed, sprawling out bonelessly as I gasped for breath. Qui-Gon
was still hunched over me, his own breathing ragged and he was
trembling violently.
He shifted away finally, wincing as my softening member slid
from his body. I flinched when I saw a faint smear of blood but
Qui-Gon kissed me softly, distracting me.
"I'm fine, Obi-Wan, it's just been some time," he said softly.
I didn't know what to say to that so I said nothing, just
snuggled into the comforting circle of his arms, his chest
pressed to my side. We were both damp with sweat and sticky but
I could have cared less and apparently he felt much the same
way.
"Master..." I started, then corrected myself, "Qui-Gon." It
seemed ridiculous to be so formal after what had just happened.
Qui-Gon didn't comment on it, just made a soft, questioning
noise and lightly trailed a hand down my side. I was tempted
not to say anything, to just enjoy this wonderful, languid
moment while it lasted but I needed to know.
"Why?" I asked softly, "Why now?" I didn't bother to
elaborate, I knew he understood and I held my breath, a little
afraid of his answer.
He was quiet for a long moment, rubbing his cheek against my
hair. I was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer but
finally he spoke in a low voice.
"When I saw you fall into that ravine, I think my heart may
have stopped for a moment. I pulled you back up and there was
so much blood, you were covered in it even in the rain..." His
voice caught slightly, his arms tightened. I was shocked. No
one had told me this although I realized I should have known.
Any head wound would have been very bloody.
A deep sigh. "I thought I'd lost you, my Obi-Wan." He fell
silent again and he seemed to be stroking my chest almost
absently, soothing feather-light touches that had me nearly
asleep before he spoke again. "I chose a life as a Jedi, as did
you, and I would never take back that decision but there is no
getting around the fact that it is a dangerous life. And next
time you or I might..."
I didn't let him finish, twisting around I kissed him silent.
I didn't want to hear it aloud, ever, no matter how true it
might be. Qui-Gon's arms tightened almost painfully around me
but I didn't protest, just now I needed it. But he loosened his
arms almost immediately, gentled his touch and the kiss until I
pulled away with a sigh and rested my head on his chest,
listening to his heart beat.
"I swore that if you recovered I wouldn't wait any longer. I
would just tell you how I felt," he said and then I felt his
chest vibrate under my ear with a low chuckle. "There just
never seemed to be a good time to bring it up, although perhaps
showing you worked just as well."
"I'm glad you showed me," I murmured. Sleep was looming closer
by the second and I barely felt the soft brush of a kiss
against my cheek.
"I'm glad as well. Besides, it took your mind off your knee."
I groaned mentally at his words, too tired to make a more
verbal response and instead I slid in just a little closer. My
knee throbbed just slightly, as if Qui-Gon's words had reminded
it but not so badly that I couldn't ignore it and I let sleep
drift a bit closer. I did miss my nice, healthy knee, but I
would take what I had gotten in exchange any day.
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