The Retreat

by MrsHamill (thamill@cox.net or mrshamill@gmail.com)

Archive: MA and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.squidge.org/~foxsden)
Category: Romance, first-time, PWP
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Obi-Wan is now a senior padawan. Qui-Gon takes him on a field trip.
Disclaimer: What, you think I own these guys? Do I even look like George Lucas? If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant.
Warning: Never say "bite me" to a cat.
Series: Nope.
Notes: Inspired by a couple of scenes from Kinsey (no spoilers, but if you've seen it, you'll recognize them). This is something I've wanted to do for a while, but seeing Liam's latest movie made the idea coalesce. Many, many thanks to Gloriana, who thought it was a good idea (sorry I didn't wait longer!), to Laura and Lisa, who caught stuff I missed, and to Claude, as ever, for a thorough beta. Please don't blame them for problems still remaining, because those are my fault.

"For how long?"

"Just over half a year, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied. "You're now a senior padawan, and the retreat is designed to allow you to bond more thoroughly with your old master and with the Force."

A senior padawan. The news had come the evening before, just an ordinary ping on the dataset denoting a message received -- a message hardly ordinary. He was a senior padawan. It was his first big step to taking his trials, to becoming a true Jedi knight.

Qui-Gon had been pleased, so pleased and proud, in his quiet, understated way. Obi-Wan had become used to the fact that his master would never be effusive, would never sing his praises to the sky... but his small smile, half-hidden by his beard, and the pride that shone from his eyes more than made up for it. There were just different ways of showing emotions, and Qui-Gon's way was one of calm and serenity.

The morning after he had become a senior padawan, Qui-Gon handed him a surprise with breakfast. Later that day, they would be leaving, going to what was called 'the retreat'. The planet had no name, merely a numerical designation, and was owned by the Jedi. It was rich in the Force; they would live there for several months, two hundred forty days -- alone, just the two of them. "It's tradition," Qui-Gon continued to explain, as they packed. "Even the amount of time spent. Once a padawan reaches senior padawan status, the padawan and his master are sent off. It's a time of growth, a time of discovery, for both master and padawan."

"But..." Questions boiled up, jostling for position at his mouth. "What will we do? Aren't there any natives?"

"Do? Very little, actually, aside from manual labor. And no, there are no sentient species on the planet." Qui-Gon's voice was muffled as he moved about in the 'fresher, gathering toiletries. "This is quite possibly the last time you'll have to be an actual padawan, Padawan. Now that you're a senior, your duties will become more rigorous. I'll be expecting more from you, not that I think you won't be up to it." He gave Obi-Wan a smile as he emerged from the 'fresher. "But this time is set aside for us to think about what lies ahead, as well as begin the preparation process for your trials."

Obi-Wan blinked, not sure how to react to that. He still hadn't come completely to terms with the fact that he was a senior padawan, free now to do many things that had been off-limits to him before. He would be allowed to go on missions alone; would be able to serve in the Senate, if he so wished; and would no longer have to take rigorous coursework on top of his battle training. A senior padawan was above that, was considered to be in final preparation for becoming a knight.

His thoughts still whirling and in dire need of meditation, Obi-Wan asked one last question before going to pack. "But... I've never heard of this. What will happen there? What will happen there that couldn't happen here?"

Qui-Gon paused in his packing to look at Obi-Wan. "You've never heard of it because it's not discussed, nor will you be allowed to discuss what happens there when you return, not with anyone save myself. What happens in the retreat stays in the retreat. As to what will happen?" Qui-Gon's smiled. "The answer to that is absolutely anything, Padawan. Anything at all."

The planet was green and blue and warm. Oceans covered more than half of it, and the landmasses were concentrated around the equator, save for one at the northern pole. There was one very small spaceport on the largest of the continents, and the rest of the planet was pretty much left to its own devices. Obi-Wan was told that there were twenty-two hundred 'cabins' scattered throughout the equatorial continent, all isolated, all fairly primitive.

Primitive, he was used to. But when their skimmer finally stopped (having homed-in on a set of coordinates and nothing else), what he saw wasn't exactly primitive. The cabin was made of rough-hewn logs, though it was finished and looked sturdy. It was also surrounded by a rainbow of the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen, aligned in beds of color.

Qui-Gon chuckled at what was surely a stunned look on his face. "They're a species of orchid known as motley iris. Beautiful, aren't they?" He looked about in satisfaction before speaking further. "When I came here with Master Yoda, we worked on them for nearly our whole stay, transplanting, dividing and planting more variegated types. I was hoping this cabin would be available to us; it carries happy memories for me."

"You came here with Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked, still a bit amazed. "Not Master Dooku?"

"Master Dooku was on a long-term mission when I became a senior padawan. Master Yoda was instructing me and he brought me here. They're not all this colorful. Some of the cabins are on lakes, others on hillsides or on prairies. The terrain of this continent is quite diverse, for all the climate isn't." He opened the rear of the skimmer. "Come help me get this inside, Padawan."

The inside of the cabin could be construed as primitive by some, but Obi-Wan had seen far worse. There was a simple kitchen, a great room with a huge fireplace, a bedroom with two austere yet comfortable-looking beds, and a small 'fresher. But there was indoor running water, bottled gas for the stove and the water heater, and a coldbox that ran off battery packs they had brought with them, so he could hardly call it truly primitive. They had also brought stores, food and things necessary for their stay. Next to the flowers was a small kitchen garden, netted against animals getting into it. It looked to be in good shape, but Obi-Wan could see where it would need work, and he knew they'd be the ones doing it.

There was no dataset and no way for anyone to reach them remotely, as there was no satellite net to provide communication. Anyone who wanted them would have to come all the way out to get them, and that was the first thing Obi-Wan commented upon.

"The two hundred forty days spent in the retreat is sacrosanct, Padawan," Qui-Gon told him in reply. "The galaxy could freeze solid and we would still be left alone. This is our time, your time and my time -- for meditation, for reflection, for good honest work, for listening to the Force and being one with it." He reached out and touched Obi-Wan's cheek. "I think you'll enjoy yourself here."

And Obi-Wan did enjoy himself, immensely. Within a day, they had established their routine; they rose shortly after dawn, worked in the gardens until midday, sparred or worked on forms or merely exercised in the afternoon, then meditation led them to bed at night. In less than a tenday, he felt more grounded, more in tune with himself and the world around him than he had been in years.

Oddly enough, all that did was draw his attention to his master. It was little things at first; he'd look up and Qui-Gon would be lovingly planting a bulb he had just divided, an expression of almost unbelievable peace on his face. Several times, he'd caught Qui-Gon putting out a salt-lick for the small animals who frequented the area -- fearless of the Jedi, frustrated by the netting over the vegetable garden -- caring even as he chuckled. The strange feeling he had seemed to coalesce for him one morning when he'd been trying to dig out some turf near the flowers to expand the bed. The ground was hard and the sun hot on his back, and his lack of progress was becoming frustrating.

"You're doing it wrong, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon appeared behind him, stilling his movements with a hand to his shoulder. "Use your thigh muscles. You're using your shoulders and you'll only tire yourself and not get anywhere. Use your arms to direct, not to power. Here." He stood behind Obi-Wan, his own dirty hands correcting Obi-Wan's stance, just as he had done countless times before when teaching a kata or sparring.

This time was different, somehow, or else Obi-Wan's heightened awareness of the Force and the workings of nature was drawing his attention to something that had always been there. They wore nothing but drooping, dirty work pants and were barefoot -- there was nothing on the planet to fear stepping upon. Qui-Gon's hands were warm and gritty, and his body, where he directed and molded Obi-Wan into the position necessary for digging, was fragrant with sweat and loam. Obi-Wan realized he was, indeed, hyper-aware of everything in that moment, from the sunlight warming them both right down to the breath of his master at his neck, as if watching things from outside his body. He never wanted Qui-Gon's hands to stop touching him, teaching him, guiding him. Loving him.

It was love. That's what he felt every time Qui-Gon touched him: love. Odd that he had never noticed it before. But now that he had, he wondered what it might mean.

With his corrected stance, he was able to make some progress, and he allowed his mind to fracture -- one part concentrating on digging while the other mused upon his revelation. Attachments were forbidden the Jedi, and for good reason. Attachments could pose a danger, could create a weakness, a vulnerability that could be exploited by their enemies. The Jedi were not looked upon with universal love and kindness in the galaxy, and so they were taught never to care too deeply, not even masters for their padawans. It was simply too dangerous to express a desire for commitment, to care for someone too much. To love.

But Qui-Gon loved, Obi-Wan mused as he continued to dig. Qui-Gon loved with a passion that was like his other emotions -- peaceful, serene, and gentle. He loved working with his hands and encouraging things to grow. He loved helping strays and those lost or misled, going out of his way to help animals and others less fortunate. He loved the simplest pleasures in life: a bath after working hard; a book by the fire in the evening; a simple meal cooked perfectly.

The more Obi-Wan thought about it, the more it seemed to him to be proper, correct. He had been taught to have serenity over passion, but nowhere did the Code forbid love. Perhaps love is not dependant upon passion, and at the thought, he felt the Force humming happily around him. He dwelled upon that revelation, tasted it with his Force sense, and the Force replied, telling him that yes, his thoughts were indeed proper and approved.

So, love was possible. Love was acceptable, perhaps even encouraged, by the Force. But can one love without forming an attachment?

He let that puzzle work in his brain while his body did what it needed to do. Long used to allowing little koans and riddles simmer in the depths of his mind while he did other things, he finished his digging, ate a lunch of juice and fruit, then sparred with his master in the afternoon. If Qui-Gon sensed his preoccupation, he did not remark upon it.

That evening, after eating, Obi-Wan stripped off his grubby workpants and walked from their shared bedroom to the 'fresher, past Qui-Gon who had already showered and was reading before the fire. Qui-Gon looked up at him and smiled as he passed, and Obi-Wan smiled in return.

While in the shower, Obi-Wan let his mind go where it will. He had come out of meditation with the puzzle still unresolved, though he felt he might be closer to the answer than before. He washed his hair and then started on his body when he realized -- he was hard. Very hard.

Interesting.

By the time Obi-Wan finished his shower, Qui-Gon had banked up the fire and abandoned his book for their bedroom. He was sitting on his bed and once again looked up as Obi-Wan entered. "I thought you had gone down the drain," he teased.

Obi-Wan stepped into a pair of shorts that were his normal sleep attire. "Not quite," he replied. He moved to his bed and sat down. There was not a lot of room between the beds, and their knees nearly touched.

"You've been thinking hard all afternoon, Obi-Wan. Care to share?"

"Of course you noticed," Obi-Wan murmured, with an enigmatic smile. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "I have been mulling over the idea of love, Master."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Love?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan cocked his head to one side. Though he was looking in Qui-Gon's direction, his gaze was obviously far away. "The Code tells us to release our emotions. It tells us there is no passion, there is serenity. But I wonder..."

He fell silent and Qui-Gon let it go on for some time before prompting. "You have wondered...?"

"Is love considered an emotion, Master?"

Taken aback, Qui-Gon blinked for a moment in thought before replying. "That is a very interesting question, Padawan. To be honest, I'm not sure." He frowned. "May I ask, what caused this question to plague you?"

"Actually, it was you, Master."

"Me?"

"Yes. When you touched me earlier, when I was digging -- or at least trying to dig. I realized in that moment your touch... carried love, that it always had. I realized in that moment how much you truly love... me, our fellow Jedi, the animals, the plants, all of it. It's odd that I never noticed it before, though perhaps I just wasn't paying the proper attention."

Amazingly, Qui-Gon felt almost bereft of words. What an unexpected tangent, how incredibly agile his padawan's thought processes were, he marveled. "You... you continue to amaze me in the ways your mind works, Padawan." He smiled and Obi-Wan smiled back. "Though I have never really thought of it as such, I suppose you may be correct in that love is not an emotion at all, though it is surely a feeling. Perhaps the larger question should be, is love something that the Force frowns upon or blesses?"

"I cannot see how the Force could condemn love, Master. My thoughts upon it were met with acceptance, not censure. And I have a difficult time seeing the Jedi forbid it, as well, since it is because of love that we are able to do our work in the galaxy." His smile turned mischievous and wry. "I doubt we'd be doing it if it were only for the credit, Master."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "I think I can agree with you there, Padawan."

"Then, do you agree? Love is something the Force blesses us with?"

"I think... I think it is quite possibly so." Qui-Gon frowned, studying his toes. "It is something I must meditate upon, Obi-Wan. I assume you have already done so, earlier today?"

"Yes, Master. I was unable to come to a satisfactory conclusion, however."

"It may be something that is unanswerable, Padawan. Like the koan of the shoes."

"I hope not, Master," Obi-Wan said, with a grin. "For I have been turning that puzzle around in my brain for far too long!"

"You and half the Temple, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon reached out and ruffled Obi-Wan's still-damp brush cut. "Let us sleep on the idea, and see what the morning brings us."

"Yes, Master." Obediently, Obi-Wan turned down his bed and crawled under the covers. Even though he knew he should be doing the same, Qui-Gon found himself still caught in his padawan's words. He knew he cared for Obi-Wan, and knew he was proud of the young man -- justifiably so. Yes, he definitely did love Obi-Wan, but when he tried to pin down the feeling, it skittered away, dancing in his consciousness just out of reach. When Obi-Wan turned, he saw Qui-Gon still sitting on the edge of his bed. "Master?"

Blinking, Qui-Gon drew himself out of his thoughts, setting them aside for later perusal. "Oh... Nothing. Sleep well, Padawan."

"You as well, Master."

The next day went as their days had been going. In the cool of the morning, they worked on the flowers and on the vegetable garden. Qui-Gon was pleased to see Obi-Wan digging properly; Obi-Wan only had to be shown something once, Qui-Gon thought, before picking it up perfectly. Such a remarkable boy.

No, not boy; he was no longer a child. Obi-Wan was a man, a senior padawan, just a few short years away from his trials and his knighthood. A man with a keen mind and if he had any flaws, perhaps it was his passions -- for learning, for the Order, for helping others. Passion, even passion for abstract matters such as learning, could burn, could hurt. Passion was for others, not for Jedi. They both knew it, and both agreed with it.

But love... Where had Obi-Wan found such an idea? Remembering his conclusions of the evening before, Qui-Gon admitted that he did, indeed love, sometimes too much but never so much that he formed the attachments forbidden to him. As such, it did not convince him that love was an emotion that must be purged, must be denied. Attachments, yes. But did love automatically lead to attachments? He loved the flowers here, especially the beautiful dark blue ones, but he did not feel attached to them.

Yet Obi-Wan said he, Qui-Gon, loved. He had said it was obvious to him every time Qui-Gon touched him.

Being ruthlessly honest with himself, Qui-Gon acknowledged that it most likely was true. Obi-Wan had crept into his heart while he had been unaware. Thoughts like that, however, pointed in a different direction -- if Qui-Gon loved, then Obi-Wan did, as well, a reflection of the love Qui-Gon felt.

Qui-Gon knew what he had to do. The Force, for him, had always been his succor, his cushion to the universe. The Force could not lead him astray, could not lead anyone astray, as long as one truly heard it, truly listened. So many times people said they heard the Force when all they heard was their own heart talking to them. The trick was figuring out which was which, and by now, Qui-Gon thought himself immune to uncertainty.

When he asked the Force for guidance, however, the Force merely embraced him warmly. When he thought about the topic of love, the Force remained quiescent, accepting the idea with hardly a ripple of concern. While it was hardly a negative reaction, it was a puzzling one.

In the afternoon, after exercising, they meditated together, kneeling on the grass in the late afternoon sunlight while the light breezes played with their hair and birds sang around them. Qui-Gon's mind was wandering, for some reason, for every time he tried to drag himself back on the topic of love, a vision of Obi-Wan would appear in his mind's eye. Obi-Wan, flushed with pleasure as he mastered a new form. Obi-Wan, his eyes lit with understanding as he worked on a complicated formula for his astrophysics class. Obi-Wan, walking naked to the 'fresher for a bath.

Qui-Gon came out of meditation before his padawan did, which was a good thing. He discovered he was sporting a tremendous erection, something he hadn't had for quite a long time.

Interesting.

That evening, after dinner, Obi-Wan again took his shower after Qui-Gon had taken his. When Qui-Gon looked up from his book to see his grubby padawan stroll naked through the great room for the 'fresher, he frowned instead of smiled, something Obi-Wan noted but did not remark upon.

While showering, Obi-Wan once again noticed he became aroused, and once again he decided to merely will it away rather than masturbate. Either was acceptable, both to himself and to the Order. But since he wasn't certain where the arousal came from, he was loathe to actually acknowledge it.

Once out of the shower, he again found the fire banked and Qui-Gon in their bedroom. After pulling on a pair of shorts, Obi-Wan took a seat on his own bed, across from Qui-Gon, as they had been the evening before. He immediately noted that Qui-Gon's expression was thoughtful and preoccupied. "Master?"

Qui-Gon took a breath. "I find I, too, have been preoccupied over your question of yesterday, Padawan. My meditation on the subject provided me with no ready answers either."

"Perhaps we have created a new unsolvable koan, Master," Obi-Wan said with a grin.

"That mischief I see in your eyes will get you in trouble someday, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied. His almost serious words were belied by the twinkle in his eye. "Somehow, I do not think the topic will make for a koan of the ages."

"If shoes can do so..." Obi-Wan replied, chuckling when he saw Qui-Gon roll his eyes. After a moment, he continued, more seriously. "I have not had much success with it myself, Master. Though..." He frowned in sudden thought. "May I ask you a personal question, Master?"

"You may ask me anything, Obi-Wan. However, if you're going to make it a personal question, I should think I would rather you use my name."

"Qui-Gon." The name sounded strange to Obi-Wan's ears, which was odd. It wasn't as if it were the first time he had ever said his master's name, after all. "Qui-Gon, have you ever had a sexual relationship?"

Even though his eyes widened, Qui-Gon's voice carried no surprise as he answered. "Yes, twice. They were very brief and a very long time ago." He cocked his head as he studied Obi-Wan. "It is my turn to ask -- why do you ask?"

"I'm not certain, exactly," Obi-Wan replied. He felt like the words were coming from somewhere deep inside him, uncensored by his usual thought processes, his normal reserve. "It felt right to do so. I've only had one sexual relationship, with a friend. I found it... rather... unsatisfactory. She and I remain friends, but nothing more. Since we are both Jedi, I feared no situation leading to an attachment." They studied each other, aware of the currents of the Force, feeling a definite pull, but not sure in which direction. "Were your two liaisons with men or with women, Qui-Gon?"

"With women." There was definitely something going on, and Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon felt it as well. "And I do believe I understand what you mean when you say yours was unsatisfactory. I always felt the same. I thought it was, perhaps, because in the back of my mind, I knew such relationships could quickly grow into a commitment, and wanted to avoid that. Only one of my liaisons was with a fellow Jedi, you see."

"I'm certain I wasn't worried about that, Qui-Gon. Even though I knew I was attracted to her, sexually, there was never any danger in that attraction," Obi-Wan said slowly. He did not take his gaze from Qui-Gon's face. "I have never had a sexual relationship with a male, just as you have not."

"Yes, that's true."

"Do you feel sexually drawn to men as well as women?"

Qui-Gon swallowed and for the first time in his life, Obi-Wan thought he saw just a touch of trepidation in the eyes of his teacher, a bit of uncertainty in the deep blue where he had never seen shadows before. "Yes, I would say that I have been, though I have never acted upon such desires."

"Would you like to?"

There was a bead of sweat slowly descending from Qui-Gon's hairline past his ear towards his jaw. Obi-Wan should have been shocked by a sign of such lack of control, but he could not focus anywhere but on Qui-Gon's lips. They were both breathing rapidly, in shallow pants, and though Qui-Gon's lips moved, no words came past them.

With deliberately slow and extreme delicacy, Obi-Wan leaned across the gap between them and touched his lips to Qui-Gon's, briefly, gently. It was barely a taste, though he repeated it immediately, just a bit stronger, already addicted. When he pulled back, he was caught by the expression on Qui-Gon's face, and knew, immediately, that it mirrored his own astonishment. The push from the Force was, remarkably, towards each other.

They froze, even forgetting to breathe for a moment. Then suddenly Qui-Gon's hands flew up to frame Obi-Wan's face, his fingers tangled in Obi-Wan's short hair and with a yank, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan to his lips, kissing him almost frantically, with bruising intensity. Obi-Wan responded in kind, nearly throwing himself at Qui-Gon, immediately opening his mouth and trying to devour the man.

One of Qui-Gon's hands stayed tangled in his hair while the other went around his neck and down, pulling Obi-Wan bodily to him. They fell to their knees in the scant space between their beds, pressing their bodies together, feeding on the gasps and whimpers that were the only sounds in the room, twisting their heads to get better angles, to taste more clearly. Obi-Wan's hands went around Qui-Gon's waist, pulling him impossibly closer, tugging at the shorts Qui-Gon wore, knowing instinctively that no clothing should be separating them.

With a powerful wrench, Qui-Gon broke their kiss, resting his forehead against Obi-Wan's. They didn't speak, not out loud; their bodies, however, were shouting, almost bellowing in the silence surrounding them.

Obi-Wan pushed himself to his feet, taking Qui-Gon with him, shoving two sets of shorts down as they rose. As they stepped out of the garments, Qui-Gon once again grabbed hold of Obi-Wan, jerked his padawan to him, tumbling them both to his bed. Obi-Wan landed on top, automatically catching himself on his hands and forearms, avoiding driving all the air from Qui-Gon's lungs -- there was precious little oxygen left in the room as it was, he didn't need to be squandering more.

Naked, their bodies automatically entwined even as their mouths mated once again. Qui-Gon's hand in his hair, cradling his head, felt huge and hot to Obi-Wan, but not as good as Qui-Gon's other hand, which skimmed down his back to his buttocks, where it clenched and released, clenched and released. Obi-Wan mapped Qui-Gon's mouth with his tongue, fighting for supremacy with Qui-Gon's tongue, which was doing the same in reverse. Settling deeper onto the bed, they found their fit with one of Qui-Gon's long legs wrapped around one of Obi-Wan's legs, with both his leg and his hand encouraging Obi-Wan to move, to grind himself and his hardness onto Qui-Gon, who was equally aroused.

Wrestling had never been Obi-Wan's strong suit, so he surrendered immediately, pinning himself to his master, both giving up and receiving at the same time. The heat between them became scalding as they rubbed against each other, each seeking completion, each seeking to crawl into the other's skin.

Even as their climaxes grew closer, their kisses grew less frantic, devolving into pecks and small, catlike licks, tasting other places besides mouths. Obi-Wan buried his nose in the space between Qui-Gon's neck and shoulder, nipping the fragile flesh there, awash in the taste and odor of Qui-Gon's desire. Qui-Gon whimpered and squeezed Obi-Wan so tightly Obi-Wan thought he might burst and be absorbed into Qui-Gon right then and there.

Qui-Gon's erection was hot against his thigh and Obi-Wan's own length was pressed into Qui-Gon's hip as they worked their way up and up and up. They were heading for an orgasm of extraordinary power, Obi-Wan knew, and he had just a split second to feel a trace of fear. Then Qui-Gon began to gasp, jerking his whole body under Obi-Wan as his finish began pulsing between them, making their bodies slick and adding the scent of semen to their own excitement. It was enough for Obi-Wan, who began to moan as he felt his own excitement peaking, washing over him with the force of a tsunami.

By the time they had caught their breath, they were asleep, still entwined.

The next day, they did not work outside. Instead, they stayed in, on the soft rug before the fireplace, exploring each other's bodies. They spoke hardly at all, other than softly voiced words of praise or gasping words of pleasure. Instead, they lived in a moment of sensuous touch, taste and smell.

Qui-Gon claimed the upper hand by dint of age and experience, though they both chuckled at his pronouncement. He knew his student, his padawan; knew him (he thought) intimately. But touching Obi-Wan was so much different in this new place, with this strange, discovered feeling.

Obi-Wan's skin was soft in places and rough, callused and scarred, in others. Qui-Gon took his time re-learning the feel of his padawan's body while Obi-Wan lay quiescent, watching his every move with eyes that were smoky gray in the dim light of the cabin.

The skin behind his ear and at his temple was fragile and fragrant. Qui-Gon spent some time tasting the cleft in Obi-Wan's chin which had always entranced him, noting that he was ready for another dose of the depilatory he used to keep his face free of whiskers. The slight scrape of beard on beard was enchanting.

A male's neck was so different from a female's. There was the laryngeal prominence, so much larger than in a woman's, and Obi-Wan's neck was broad with ropy strength from his training as a Jedi. His arms, too, were long and muscular, as were his hands, though his fingers retained their elegance despite their calluses. His hands were warm too, and Qui-Gon bestowed a kiss in the center of each.

The musculature on a woman was vastly different than on a man, even a woman who had been trained as a Jedi. Obi-Wan's chest was broadening, now that he had reached his full growth, and while he would never reach Qui-Gon's height, he would be nearly as strong. There was a light scattering of reddish hair dusted across Obi-Wan's chest, where his nipples rested, flat paps with peaked tips. On a woman, teats were often highly arousing, but on a man, Qui-Gon wasn't so certain. His own had never seemed too responsive, but he had heard of other men's being quite sensitive.

To see, he licked first one and then the other, and immediately noticed they hardened, drawing up tight. He tried a light suction and immediately, Obi-Wan gasped and began to tremble. "You like this?"

"Oh, gods... yes..."

"And this?" Qui-Gon took one little tit between his teeth and bit down, very gently.

"Again! Harder!" Obi-Wan's voice was a harsh, demanding whisper.

Qui-Gon complied, playing for a long time on Obi-Wan's chest, enjoying his reactions. Finally, though, he moved on, down a flat belly to a furious erection, the red crown peeking through withdrawn foreskin. He had enjoyed oral sex with one of the women he had been with, but this was vastly different while at the same time similar. He used his tongue to taste Obi-Wan's phallus, dragging it from the base to the top and aware of the reaction he was engendering. There was a drop of pearly seminal fluid at the tip and he sucked it off -- it was surprisingly bitter but not terrible.

Beneath were Obi-Wan's testicles, exceedingly fragile skin graced with tiny hairs. They were drawn up tightly against Obi-Wan's body, which was quivering and sheened in sweat. His strong thighs were taut but parted at Qui-Gon's gentle push, separating widely and giving Qui-Gon access to his center.

It was easy to go in and then down, following the muscles as they led to his knee, then to his feet, which, like his hands, were elegant. Each toe was examined and tasted, each callus lovingly caressed. Here was the crooked toe, the one which had been broken when he fell from a window, trying to catch an assassin. Qui-Gon couldn't remember when it had been or where, and he dismissed it out of his mind.

Rolling Obi-Wan over, Qui-Gon retraced his steps, following his nose first to the back of Obi-Wan's knees -- he was ticklish there -- then to his buttocks. Parting them, he examined then kissed and licked the small portal to Obi-Wan's body, wondering if they would go further, wondering if he wanted to go further. The taste was musky and sweet, pure Obi-Wan, and decided for him... yes, he would want to go further. He knew, somehow, that Obi-Wan would feel the same. So they would, but they had plenty of time, there was no hurry.

He finished his journey of discovery at the nape of Obi-Wan's neck, carding his fingers through the knight's tail after pulling the tie out. Obi-Wan's hair was soft and beautiful.

Gently, Qui-Gon rolled Obi-Wan back over, kissing his lips as they appeared again. They wrapped their arms around one another and just kissed, for a long time, not intending it to go any further, merely desiring to taste one another again. When Qui-Gon broke the kiss, it was gently, with a small smile, and Obi-Wan echoed it with puzzlement.

Qui-Gon reached for a pair of the large pillows in the room, and used them to prop Obi-Wan's back up. Once Obi-Wan was arranged to his satisfaction, he moved down and situated himself between his padawan's spread legs. Then he dropped his head forward and sucked Obi-Wan's erection into his mouth.

Obi-Wan gasped as Qui-Gon engulfed him and his eyes grew wide at the sight of his master, laying between his legs, sucking him. Mesmerized, he watched as Qui-Gon learned how to do it, even enjoying the occasional scrape of teeth on the sensitive glans. He panted for air and his eyes burned, but he would not close them, would not cut off the picture Qui-Gon made. Instead, he brought his fingers up and began pinching his nipples quite hard, just how he liked it, and remembered the feel of Qui-Gon's mouth on them, Qui-Gon's teeth on them.

One of Qui-Gon's hands played gently with Obi-Wan's testicles, delving occasionally further back and Obi-Wan remembered that, too, Qui-Gon's mouth and tongue on his anus, tasting him. He wanted more, he wanted penetration as well, and knew it would come, with time. They would do it all.

Something else was coming as well. Obi-Wan had long ago learned how to tap the Force and extend his orgasms far beyond what was normal; it was something taught in sexuality classes. Sexual frustration could be a path to the Dark. It was healthier to release such tension, either alone or with a partner, so that it wouldn't grow worse. Now, with his penis halfway down Qui-Gon's throat and his climax igniting his nervous system, Obi-Wan let go and drew the Force to him, allowed his mind to spread the impact of his completion throughout his body. His eyes rolled back and he let them, let the power of his love and the Force engulf him, sustain him.

He was only peripherally aware of Qui-Gon swallowing his seed as it bubbled out of him in seeming slow-motion, and wasn't at all embarrassed by the gasps and groans he heard himself make. He floated on a wave of sensation, sustained by the Force, washed out and limp. He smiled as he realized this was only the beginning... he had yet to taste Qui-Gon everywhere too. And he would.

And he did. Once recovered, he situated Qui-Gon where he had been and began the same path of enlightenment. There was just so much of Qui-Gon, all that skin, all that body, and he wanted to take his time.

So he did take his time, tasting and kissing, pinching and rubbing. Qui-Gon's teats were not as sensitive as his own were, but he was able to tease a reaction out of him by biting, gently. His erection was a bit longer than Obi-Wan's, and thicker, though his testicles seemed smaller. His hands and feet, like the rest of him, were big and broad, workmanlike, for all Obi-Wan knew from personal experience how gentle and warm his hands could be. The calluses on his feet were deep from years of performing katas, teaching and working.

His center tasted wonderfully earthy, pungent with pure Qui-Gon, just as Obi-Wan had imagined it would be. Licking and dropping small, sucking kisses on it had Qui-Gon quivering almost immediately, so Obi-Wan kept at it until Qui-Gon began to rock back and forth, whimpering.

Taking pity on his master finally, Obi-Wan turned him back over, propped him up on the pillows and reciprocated. Qui-Gon's gaze on him burned, made the act of giving pleasure as much a pleasure for Obi-Wan as for Qui-Gon. He let one finger become wet with his saliva and used it to probe at the entrance to Qui-Gon's body, knowing it would be intense for Qui-Gon, and it was. With a hoarse shout, Qui-Gon began to climax, and Obi-Wan could feel him spreading the sensation across the Force, prolonging his pleasure.

Obi-Wan swallowed Qui-Gon's offering, then swallowed again as he continued to slowly ejaculate. It took a long time for Qui-Gon to come down off his orgasmic high and Obi-Wan continued to suckle, swallowing again and again until there was nothing left, until Qui-Gon returned to ground, sated.

By then, Obi-Wan's erection had come back full force. Leaving Qui-Gon for a moment, he went to the kitchen pantry and retrieved some cooking oil, bringing it back to their nest. Qui-Gon's eyes were open when he returned, and showed approval at the sight of the bottle.

"May I?" Obi-Wan asked, after kissing him gently, lingeringly.

"Please," Qui-Gon replied in a low rumble, turning over and rising to his knees.

The mechanics of what they were about to do were known by both of them, but it was not something either had done before. Obi-Wan took his time and made sure to use copious amounts of oil, and he felt Qui-Gon breathing and relaxing his muscles, encouraging Obi-Wan to continue.

Once satisfied that Qui-Gon was ready, Obi-Wan splashed some of the oil on his erection and began to push inside, into tight heat that clenched, astounding him with the pleasure it gave. Qui-Gon was obviously enjoying it as well, if the sounds he was making were any indication. He dropped from his hands, crossing his arms and resting his forehead on them, spreading his thighs even wider.

In short order, Obi-Wan was all the way in and closed his eyes, remaining still while Qui-Gon's body adjusted to his presence. Through the Force he could feel Qui-Gon's renewed arousal and was glad for it, knew it was because of him and what he was doing. He longed for Qui-Gon to reciprocate, wanted to feel Qui-Gon deeply inside him though he knew they would, indeed, get to that point.

Regulating his breathing, Obi-Wan dropped into a semi-meditation as he began to thrust, his rhythm strong and sure. It was vastly unlike his only other sexual encounter, even though that one dealt with penetration as well. But being inside Qui-Gon was a revelation, something so far out of his ken he could never have imagined it.

Beneath him, Qui-Gon began to breathe in his tempo and together, they dropped into the moment, into the Force, letting it buoy them. As they felt their arousal slowly begin to peak, Obi-Wan allowed himself to speed up slightly, withdrawing farther and pushing back in more firmly. When his orgasm came, it was almost shocking in intensity, far stronger than anything he had felt for years and years. When he recovered, he felt Qui-Gon's completion still hovering, just out of reach, and he put one of his hands on Qui-Gon's erection to help.

"Next time," he whispered harshly, pumping tightly, hotly, "take me. Please. I want to feel you inside me so very badly, Qui-Gon, Master, please, next time, take me..."

Qui-Gon came.

They ate well that evening before settling in for meditation. Once out of it, they retired, kissing each other goodnight as they slipped between the sheets of their beds, smiling into the darkness before allowing themselves to sleep. The next morning, they were out in the garden again, working on expanding the flowerbeds and harvesting some vegetables. The only difference in their routine was the kisses they shared frequently and the knowledge that before supper, or after lunch, or perhaps at bedtime, one of them would be inside the other, seeking completion and giving pleasure, such wonderful, lovely pleasure.

The Force hummed about them now, making them feel happy and contented. They were Jedi -- they did not need to speak of the gift the Force gave them, for they were never without it.

Two hundred forty days passed, each one as beautiful as the one before. Occasionally, it would rain, and once, they made love on the wet turf as the warm rain pattered down on them, Obi-Wan impaled on Qui-Gon, raising his face to the sky, drinking deeply. The rain washed away the signs of their ecstasy and left them still full of feeling, laughing in delight that they were able to share something so primal, so amazingly wonderful.

One night, they slept beneath the stars, rather than in their beds. They had not coupled, but were instead merely holding each other as they watched a small meteor shower paint the velvet sky with white streaks. "I feel very near the Force here," Obi-Wan murmured.

"I feel closer to it now, being here with you, than I did -- even with Master Yoda." He tightened his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I've never had something feel so right to me as our lovemaking. It's astounding."

"Yes." Several streaks later, Obi-Wan continued. "It gives me joy to know that such pleasure, such feeling, is possible. I had no idea."

"Generally, that's for good reason. We cannot form attachments, Padawan."

"I know. But..." Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon's face, knew his own face was lit with the happiness he felt. "Were it possible for us to do so, I would with you, Qui-Gon. My Master. You have raised me, trained me, shared with me, and loved me. The memory of this time will stay with me always, a light when our duty leads us to darkness."

Qui-Gon's face reflected the awe and tenderness that was in his heart. "I have no words to give you to explain how you have touched me, Obi-Wan. I love you. Now, in the future, forever. More than just an exemplary Jedi, you are a man I am honored to have known, to have taught."

Obi-Wan gave him a contented smile but didn't speak, merely rested his head back over Qui-Gon's heart.

Time will not wait for anyone, Jedi or lovers, and finally, their time was up. They packed carefully, making sure to leave everything as it had been when they arrived. The net was re-staked down, and those flowers which had gone to seed were cut back, given room to grow more over the next season. Both men took two bulbs each, to return with them to Coruscant and to force-grow in pots, so that they would remember the beauty of this world, the retreat.

When all was ready, when they had made one last trip to check everything was done, when the empty gas tanks and the depleted battery packs were packed away in the skimmer, they stood together, ready to leave.

"I'll miss it," Obi-Wan said, taking one last deep breath of warm scent.

"I will as well." Qui-Gon put one of his warm hands on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"You were right about one thing, Master," Obi-Wan said with a sly smile. "Anything could happen -- and I'd say anything did."

Turning Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon leaned down and kissed him, gently but thoroughly. "I will miss this most of all," he murmured.

"Me, too." Left unspoken was their profound understanding -- what happened in the retreat stayed in the retreat. They were, first and foremost, Jedi who served the Force and the Republic. Obi-Wan leaned into Qui-Gon's kiss briefly, then hugged him, tightly. As they separated, a sudden thought hit him. "Master, is the retreat only for masters and padawans? Can knights and single masters come, as well?"

Qui-Gon frowned for a moment as he thought about Obi-Wan's words. Then that frown disappeared as a sort of incredulous hope took its place. "It is, they can... In fact, as long as there is a residence available, any Jedi can come, at any time. Many, many do, I know this, but I had never thought..."

Obi-Wan felt as though his face would split in two from his smile. "You should come first, and I shall meet you here. It can be our dream, a dream that can sustain us when all else looks grim, when we grow weary of serving, when we need time for ourselves and our love."

Nodding, Qui-Gon caressed Obi-Wan's cheek. "My soon-to-be Knight. You are a much wiser man than I, Obi-Wan. I will come first, and you will meet me here, as a knight. "

"I learned from the best, my Master." Obi-Wan reached up and kissed Qui-Gon again. "I love you, Master. Qui-Gon."

"I love you too, Padawan. Obi-Wan."

With one last smile, they climbed into the skimmer and headed back to the Temple and their responsibilities as Jedi.

Epilogue

A senior padawan. He could hardly believe it. Sometimes it seemed as though he had decades to go before he could be a knight, be a true Jedi... there was just so much work he had yet to do. But now... and his master says they'll be leaving the Temple? For how long?

"Where are we going again?" he asked, his thoughts still whirling.

"It's called 'the retreat,' Padawan. We will spend two hundred forty days there, communing with the Force and each other. It's your last chance to be a real padawan, because as a senior padawan, your duties will become even more rigorous."

It figures, he thought sourly, then pushed it away. "But... what will we do there? An uninhabited planet? What will happen?"

Sometimes, when his master looked at him, all he could see were shadows of old regrets, old pain and sorrows deep in his eyes, like now. With a quick shake of his head, though, his master seemed to banish them. "What will happen?" he asked, turning away. "Why, almost anything, Anakin." Obi-Wan swallowed hard and repeated softly, "Almost anything at all."

end