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by Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Categories: PWP, romance, angst
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Obi-Wan is feeling guilty
Disclaimer: Never been there...never done that...just wish I
had.
Archive: M/A and my own site at
www.slashcity.org/~anafic/...anyone else just ask.
Thanks: As always, thanks to my fabulous editor-in-chief and partner in crime, Calysta Rose, and to the best beta and moral support a writer could ask for, Robin Serrano.
The mission to Delarosa had not been difficult from a negotiations standpoint. Both halves of the population had accepted Qui-Gon's calming presence and wise words during the many months of meetings and the treaty had been signed with little argument from either side.
No, Obi-Wan thought as he tossed and turned on his bed, the negotiations had not been the difficult part. It had been the people of Delarosa themselves and their skewed visions and warped beliefs that had constituted the problem.
Disgusted with himself, Obi-Wan pushed the covers back and sat up, frowning. His master would not be pleased to know he was thinking this way. Another round of meditation on self-control and acceptance was definitely in order.
In his bare feet and sleep shirt, Obi-Wan slid out of bed to the floor, assuming a repentant meditative position.
/Obi-Wan?/
Obi-Wan cringed.
/Obi-Wan.../
/Master...you should not be awake.../ Obi-Wan said, knowing that he was the reason Qui-Gon was no longer asleep.
Just thirty-six hours before, his master had been gravely injured. He was currently in a bacta tank in the healing ward. The healers would be upset to think he was conscious and wasting precious thought energy by reprimanding his padawan.
/Obi-Wan, I can sense your frustration.../
Obi-Wan's cheeks flushed. It was not so much frustration as it was guilt; his behavior on Delarosa had been most unbecoming of a padawan.
/Master, please...I'm sorry. I should have made certain I was not disturbing you. You must rest. Forgive me.../ Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere, in body and mind, preferably far from a master who sounded so kind and forgiving when he should not have.
/I have rested all I am able, Obi-Wan. When the healers check my progress in the morning, I am certain they will release me to our quarters. Now.../
/How can you know that you are well enough?/ Obi-Wan asked, evading his master's questioning tone. /Just yesterday they were rushing you into the operating theatre.../
/A routine procedure only,/ Qui-Gon said.
/Master, you were unconscious and unable to breathe.../ Obi-Wan shuddered as he thought of Qui-Gon, white as paint, gasping for air, blood trickling from his mouth. /And the blood.../
Over their bond, Obi-Wan felt the warmth of his master's comfort.
/All because of the broken ribs and punctured lung,/ Qui-Gon told him.
/They said both of your lungs were damaged, Master,/ Obi-Wan said, unable to quell the accusation. /And that your elbow was broken, your shoulder was separated, your jaw was.../
/Obi-Wan./ Qui-Gon's tone said that he did not wish to be reminded of the list of injuries he had suffered. It was bad enough that the accident had been a freak one; a faulty fuel line had almost cost him his life and had very nearly destroyed the landing bay upon their arrival on Coruscant. His only consolation was that Obi-Wan had been meditating elsewhere on the ship at the time; the injuries to the padawan had been minor.
/You should go back to sleep, Master. You need to save your strength./ Obi-Wan did not wish to remember the gruesome details either, most especially because they reminded him of his shameful behavior during their mission.
/I regret that we did not get to see much of each other during the mission, my padawan,/ Qui-Gon said. /And that I was forced to spend most of our return trip filling out the mission reports./
Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. He didn't want to think about it. It had been the time away from Qui-Gon that had caused him such trouble in the first place.
/Obi-Wan?/
Damn. Why did his master suddenly know something was amiss when he'd seemed ignorant of it the last three months?
/Obi-Wan...I think we need to talk.../
Obi-Wan couldn't stand the irony. They were way, way past talking...he needed to *do* something before he went slowly crazy.
/Master, I'm very tired./ It was an outright lie, but even if Qui-Gon knew it, Obi-Wan was past caring. The conversation was getting too close to Qui-Gon discovering what had been going on, and Obi-Wan wasn't ready to discuss the implications yet. /You should be resting as well./
Qui-Gon didn't challenge Obi-Wan's blatant change of subject.
/Very well, Obi-Wan, get some sleep. You have earned it. We will speak later./ He didn't sound entirely convinced, but he let it go.
/Goodnight, Master./
/Sleep well, my Obi-Wan./
The accident had taken a lot out of Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan knew, even if his master wouldn't admit it. As he lay on his side, taking deep, dragging breaths and trying to calm himself, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon drifting into the quiet unconsciousness of sleep...and he wished he had the ability to do the same.
Slowly, Obi-Wan reached down and slipped his sleep pants down over his hips. Fingering the waistband of his silky shorts, he disposed of them as well, kicking away the bed covering as he kicked the clothing off.
Obi-Wan shivered, the air of the room cooling his heated skin. Reinforcing his shields, he allowed his hand to caress his hardening nipples, to drift down, administering feather light touches to the sensitive skin of his stomach and the inside of his thighs. Growing increasingly stimulated, Obi-Wan took his cock into his hand, stroking it softly. Closing his eyes, he pictured Qui-Gon touching him...so many months ago when such had been possible.
They had soulbonded a year ago, on Obi-Wan's twenty-second birthday. The ceremony and subsequent joining of minds and bodies had been glorious; both of them had been deliriously happy, at last knowing what it was like to find the missing half of one's soul.
With the exception of the increased intimacy between them, little had changed. They'd continued to function as master and padawan, the bond heightening their awareness on all levels and strengthening their connection to the Force.
Obi-Wan's breathing came in short, sharp pants as his hand movements increased. Arching up, backside lifting from the bed, he groaned, his body on fire.
Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's hands on his cock, fast then slow, teasing him to the brink and then carefully easing up to bring him back down. He would never deny Obi-Wan what he so desperately needed, but he knew how to play his padawan, knew the buttons he needed to push to make him crazy.
Quickening the tempo again, Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, white lights beginning to explode behind them. Crying out, ankles flexing, toes digging into the mattress, he gave himself up to the magical, invisible hands above him. Shaking, perspiring, Obi-Wan waited for orgasm to claim him...to no avail.
Pumping and stroking his cock, keeping the image of his master planted firmly in his mind, Obi-Wan begged the Force for release. And still it taunted him.
Sweating, angry, Obi-Wan rolled onto his stomach, erection pressing painfully into the bed. Imagining himself braced over Qui-Gon, thrusting between hard thighs into the tight, hot body, Obi-Wan moved his hips in frenzied motion, feeling the friction of the sheets like sandpaper against his sensitive cock.
*Master! Oh, Master!* he cried out, only for his own mind to hear. *Take me, Master! Take me into your body and make me come! I need this so badly! I need you!*
Moving his hips madly, Obi-Wan prepared for the final strokes that would bring him the blissful release he sought. And although he could feel his cock straining, pulsing and ready for the imminent explosion, he didn't come.
Shouting out his frustration, Obi-Wan collapsed to the bed, cursing in seven different languages. He hurt, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally, and the serenity and calm he had been forcing upon himself were being badly tested. In defeat, Obi-Wan fell onto his side, curling into a tight ball.
It had been this way since the first days of the mission to Delarosa. After having had Qui-Gon's comfort and support through their lifebond for the last year, Obi-Wan had suddenly found himself alone. The need to be close had increased as his time with his master had decreased. They had not been separated for so long since their bonding...had never been apart from one another for more than several days for as long as Obi-Wan had been Qui-Gon's padawan.
But the people of Delarosa had very specific limitations-limitations the Council had not been aware of when they had sent the master-padawan team to the planet. Their laws specifically stated that only members of the opposite sex could associate with one another for prolonged periods of time. Thus there were no marriages or relations exclusively between males or females and housing arrangements were only granted for opposite sex pairings and family members.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had often had separate cabins on missions; sometimes living quarters were not accommodating for two people. And they had been fine. There were other times and places for them to get together to talk, share a meal and, since their soul bonding, to be with one another as their bodies and minds craved.
Delarosa had been different, though. Until the age of twenty-five, males were considered to be boys, allowed to live only with their families or in the individual living spaces set up specifically for such young men. And boys were not considered important enough to warrant attention by the elders.
So it was that Obi-Wan had found himself on a three month long mission where he'd been sequestered away from his master, not allowed to do his job as padawan or to tend to their joint needs as lifemates. For Obi-Wan, the separation had been agony. Qui-Gon had assured him the Council would understand, that Obi-Wan would not be held responsible for the mission details since he was being kept from participating, but it was not the mission that had concerned Obi-Wan.
And so Obi-Wan had spent almost one hundred days alone, seeing Qui-Gon only briefly, if their paths happened to cross in the Great Hall during mealtime. Slowly, Obi-Wan had begun to feel the effects of the separation. The mental disconnection was almost bearable, for a time, but as the mission wore on and weeks became months, Obi-Wan feared losing his sanity. When the physical cravings had started, Obi-Wan had gone from slightly irritated to depressed and listless.
At first, just the memories of time spent with Qui-Gon, the joyous joinings and mental satisfaction of making love together had been enough to sustain Obi-Wan. Merely thinking about being together, conjuring up feelings and memories, had allowed him to take his release. But as his time away from his lover increased, so did his inability to satisfy his needs on his own. Light touches worked for a while, but Obi-Wan had quickly found himself needing more time, harder strokes, prolonged masturbation, in order to control the burning emptiness inside.
And now, even that no longer appeared to be working. Obi-Wan's body was demanding release, his nerves were jangled, his thoughts jumbled. But his own touch was apparently not an option open to him anymore. Growling in frustration, Obi-Wan pounded his fists into the bed.
The worst part, he thought with something akin to despair, was that Qui-Gon did not even appear to be bothered. Throughout the mission, he had remained calm, level-headed, and diplomatic as ever. He had never seemed lacking of anything, had never been less than the perfect Jedi mediator in all the times Obi-Wan had seen him.
While Obi-Wan had been jerking off, wanting his master's hands upon him, needing Qui-Gon to sustain him more than he had needed food and drink, Qui-Gon had been speaking with the people of Delarosa, getting to know and understand them, negotiating the treaty. And Obi-Wan wasn't sure he would ever be able to rid his soul of the guilt he felt...or to look into his master's eyes again. He wasn't even sure he had the right to be called 'padawan'...
/Obi-Wan.../
*Oh, gods...Qui-Gon* If his master had felt what he'd just done-or had not been able to do-he would be humiliated. On Delarosa, Obi-Wan had not worried as much about keeping things from his master. Qui-Gon had been occupied with the details of the mission, plagued with too much work and not enough sleep. He'd been too busy during the day to worry much about Obi-Wan, the padawan knew, and too exhausted at night to do more than fall into bed.
/Obi-Wan...I am ashamed.../ The anguish in his master's voice was like a knife to Obi-Wan's soul. His master must not be made to feel guilty for the shortcomings of his padawan.
/Master...please don't say anymore./ He could feel Qui-Gon's worry through their bond, could feel the tension. And he could not allow it.
/I will do whatever meditations you see fit, Master,/ he told Qui-Gon. /I will speak with Master Yoda or Master Windu...or.../ Obi-Wan stopped as a sob welled up in his throat. /I will accept your decision to either drop me from the training program or reassign me to another master./
Through their link, Obi-Wan felt confusion from his master. Obviously Qui-Gon was at odds about how to handle the situation Obi-Wan had thoughtlessly placed him in.
/Obi-Wan, it is not you I am ashamed of, but myself. For many months now, it seems, I have been a less than adequate master and a poor example and teacher./
Obi-Wan felt the breath rush out of his lungs.
/And most importantly, I have tarnished our lifebond with my disregard for you as my soulmate./
Obi-Wan sat in stunned silence.
/Obi-Wan? Padawan?/
Obi-Wan found himself unable to answer, unable to move. He was the one who had behaved disgracefully; he had dishonored his master's trust and the strength of their bond by giving in to his body's demands like a cheap whore. He should have been stronger, able to withstand their separation, capable of resisting the urges he'd felt.
/No, you shouldn't have./
The statement left no room for argument. But still Obi-Wan tried. /Master, I should have known.../
/No, Obi-Wan, you shouldn't have. You couldn't have./
/But you never...you never.../ Obi-Wan couldn't force the words out.
/Obi-Wan...I have had decades of practice controlling and suppressing.../
Qui-Gon stopped. The moment the thoughts formed, Qui-Gon knew his padawan would not take them as they were intended. As he'd feared, he felt Obi-Wan's mind go immediately still.
/There is much about the bond that we don't yet know,/ Qui-Gon tried again. /And while we are both very new to the concept, I am more experienced with being able to divide my attentions. In the back of my mind, I will admit to having felt the tug of your presence...and my thoughts were of you more often than they were of the mission. In reflection, I now realize they were signs of your needs and the bond's neglect.../
Obi-Wan did not respond. Qui-Gon sighed. /If your attempt tonight to satisfy the aching hunger I felt in you is any indication, then you have suffered more than I can possibly ask forgiveness for./
He knew! Obi-Wan was horrified. Oh, gods, somehow Qui-Gon knew what Obi-Wan had tried so diligently to cover up. And if he didn't know exactly, he at least had a close approximation of what had been going on.
/Obi-Wan, I regret that we suddenly seem to be awkward around one another, and I can only hold myself responsible. All I ask now is the chance to be with you again, to reassure you that I, too, crave what we have not been allowed to have these last months. I should have realized it sooner./
As tingles ran through his thighs and up into his belly, Obi-Wan glanced down to find his hand unconsciously squeezing and stroking his cock. Limp and unresponsive, it lay in Obi-Wan's palm, still as a sleeping serpent. Hours ago, it had been coiled in excitement, poised to strike. Obi-Wan was mortified; the analogy was weak but the truth remained: he had lost his ability to react, even to his own touch.
/Obi-Wan...please come here./
Obi-Wan's hand fell away from his cock.
/I regret that I cannot hold you, Padawan, but I would at least like to see your face as we continue this conversation. If you can find it in your heart to see this talk through./
There was an unmistakable longing in his master's voice. As Obi-Wan slowly slipped into leggings and a clean tunic, the tone of the words echoed in his head, rekindling the flame of hope Obi-Wan had feared forever extinguished.
The Temple was quiet, being that it was the middle of the Coruscant night. The healing ward, where Qui-Gon was currently the only patient, was especially so, with none of the usual monitors or devices beeping and chattering away.
"Padawan Kenobi."
Obi-Wan looked up, startled, to see a Knight Healer standing before him. Of course there would be someone here, he told himself. Even in the event that they had no patients, the ward would not be left unattended.
"Knight Ti'san," Obi-Wan responded as evenly as he could. He did not wish her to see his surprise.
"If you have come to inquire about your master, he is resting comfortably," the knight told him. "Healer Corren is scheduled to examine him at 0900 and will speak with you then."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan managed a smile. "I would just like to see him for a moment..."
The woman held up her hand. "I am sorry, Padawan, but that will not be possible. No one in the healing ward is allowed visitors at such a late hour, and your master must be allowed to rest. Tomorrow..."
Obi-Wan cocked his head, tuning out the knight's lecture on appropriate visiting hours for patients. Qui-Gon's Force signature was strong here; it permeated even the natural Force net that surrounded every Jedi healing facility. Obi-Wan's longing for his master's presence, for his master's touch, grew as he realized that once again it was to be kept from him.
In as natural a movement as he could make it, Obi-Wan brought his hand up. Fingers flexing almost randomly, Obi-Wan made eye contact with the knight.
"You are the one in need of rest," he suggested, fervently hoping he could be persuasive enough. "You will return to your quarters to sleep. Master Jinn will be safely cared for by me."
The knight blinked once, looking suspicious for only for a moment. "I was just about to return to my quarters to sleep," she said, her blue eyes glassy. "Master Jinn will be safe here with you."
Obi-Wan maintained the mind contact until the woman was out the door and well down the corridor. Then, breaking from his thoughts of the healer, he made his way through the ward to the bacta tanks.
Seeing his master was not going to be enough, Obi-Wan realized as he approached the bacta room. Pulling his tunic up and over his head, Obi-Wan let it drop to the ground behind the first tank.
As he tugged off his leggings, which were growing increasingly snug, he looked around. His master was two tanks down; the tank had the glow of activation where the other tanks did not. Suspended on the harness, amid the gel, with no one to talk to and nothing to look at had always seemed like sensory deprivation to Obi-Wan. But Qui-Gon had always assured him it was not, saying that the bacta room was for healing, not for entertainment.
Shedding his uncomfortably tight underwear, Obi-Wan placed them with the other pieces of clothing and tucked the pile into the corner where they would be missed by anyone coming in. Hopefully, with the Knight Healer out of the way, visitors would not be a problem until morning. And by that time, Obi-Wan planned to be finished and back in his quarters.
Moving over to the tank that held his master, Obi-Wan climbed the service ladder at the back of it and dropped down into the liquid as casually as if he were entering the Temple pool. Stilling his thoughts and his movements, Obi-Wan took a moment to acclimate himself to the sensation of breathing in and through the bacta. Blinking twice, he succeeded in blocking most of the red haze from his vision, concentrating on the beautiful sight before him.
/OBI-WAN!/
Although the cry came from Qui-Gon's mind, his mouth opened as well, dispelling dozens of bubbles as any sound he made was lost in the gel's density.
/Shhhhh, Master.../ Obi-Wan reached out, placing a finger against Qui-Gon's lips. It had been so long since they'd touched, even minimally, that he found his finger burning with the contact.
/Shhh, Master,/ he said again. /Please don't say we can't do this. I need it so badly./ He looked into Qui-Gon's eyes and saw the longing he felt reflected there. /I need you./
/And I you, my Obi-Wan,/ Qui-Gon thought with barely controlled passion. /But you shouldn't be here. The healers...the other patients...someone will see.../
Obi-Wan ran a finger tenderly down Qui-Gon's cheek. /Hush,/ he said, feeling his control slipping away. /I have...taken care of the healer on duty, and there is no one else in the ward but you./
He could see Qui-Gon's protest on his face as he told him about the healer.
/It's nothing you wouldn't have done, faced with a similar situation,/ Obi-Wan told him. /Don't tell me that after all the people you've mind-whammied.../
/I do not 'mind whammy,/ Qui-Gon corrected him indignantly. /I use mind suggestion./
/Whatever the term, the outcome is the same,/ Obi-Wan said, frustrated by the interruption. /Don't tell me that after all the people you've *used mind suggestion on*-people of much higher rank and of higher power than the knight healer I worked on, I might point out-that you would hesitate to use it for something as small as you and I being together./
/Obi-Wan, that's not an accurate.../
/Qui-Gon! If you don't want this, please tell me now and I'll go. I didn't come here for a philosophical discussion on the uses of mind suggestion.../
Any further thoughts from Obi-Wan were forgotten as his mouth was taken in an unending kiss.
/Mastermastermastermastermaster.../ Obi-Wan moaned.
/Ah...a much better use of your tongue.../
Obi-Wan's eyes widened at the implication and he gasped as his master's tongue was thrust into his mouth. Floating as he was in the red gel, it was all he could do to concentrate on keeping his airway open and remaining stationary.
/My apologies, Obi-Wan,/ Qui-Gon said, not breaking the kiss but reaching out to wrap his arms and legs around the body of his lover, holding him firmly.
Unable to settle for just his master's lips, Obi-Wan ran his hands down Qui-Gon's shoulders and chest, caressing the skin and rubbing all the places the harness touched. He knew it did not hurt his master, but it did look...restricting.
Qui-Gon hardened with Obi-Wan's touches. His erection stood out from the restraints, pulsing against both their bellies begging further stimulation. Praising the bacta's secondary use as a lubricant, Obi-Wan pushed away from Qui-Gon. Muscled legs treading, he grasped his master's slippery cock with his equally slippery fingers and squeezed.
/Unggh...Obi-Wan.../ Qui-Gon's legs pumped in counter-rhythm to his padawan's.
/Relax, Master,/ Obi-Wan said.
/Relax?!/ Of their own accord, Qui-Gon's hips thrust forward, into the tunnel of Obi-Wan's hand.
Obi-Wan chuckled. /I only meant that you shouldn't get yourself so worked up, being that you've only recently had surgery and are still recovering./
/If you didn't want me to be worked up, Obi-Wan, you shouldn't have started this.../ Qui-Gon said in exasperation.
/If you will recall, Master, you are the one who insisted I come down here.../
/Semantics, my padawan.../ Qui-Gon said, his serenity slipping. /Whatever the reason, we are both here now, together.../ Qui-Gon's mind voice grew rough. /And if something isn't done soon, the healers will have more than my mending injuries to deal with in the morning./
/Well, I wouldn't want to endanger your health, my master,/ Obi-Wan said with a smile. Oh, how he had missed this...being close to Qui-Gon, being able to touch him, to talk to him, to simply *be* with him.
/And I have missed you as well,/ Qui-Gon told him with a sigh. /Never again will I allow you or our bond to be so neglected...and never will I allow anyone, mission or not, to force us into that position./
/Enough talk, Master.../
Obi-Wan held Qui-Gon's shoulders tightly, raising his hips in question. /In or out, Master?/
Qui-Gon shivered in anticipation. /It is your choice, Obi-Wan. I have a feeling that by night's end we will both be able to have what we yearn for most./
/I want you inside me, then,/ Obi-Wan said, bracing himself and spreading his legs until Qui-Gon had easy access. /Take your cock in your hand and guide it in to me,/ Obi-Wan whispered.
Qui-Gon suddenly found breathing impossible as he placed his cock at Obi-Wan's entrance, his upward thrust and Obi-Wan's downward movement settling his erection deep inside his padawan. /Force, Obi-Wan,/ he sighed. /You're going to undo all the healers' hard work./
Obi-Wan froze. /Master? Are you sure...?/
Qui-Gon laughed. /Yes, Obi-Wan, I am,/ he said, reaching down to caress Obi-Wan's cock, his hand beginning a slow up and down motion.
/Oh...!/ Obi-Wan gasped as he began to move effortlessly on his master's cock.
The bacta was between them, around them, in them...cool and warm in turns, gently supporting and buoying them as they made love.
/Yes, Obi-Wan,/ Qui-Gon said between breaths. /Perhaps if you are still at a loss for a topic for your upcoming Medical Research and Theories paper, you could examine the unconventional uses of bacta.../
/Master!/
Qui-Gon increased the speed of his strokes, then, bringing Obi-Wan to the brink as he felt his padawan's release approaching.
/Come with me, Obi-Wan...now...and always.../
Then, in the joy of the moment, they were coming together, the evidence of their joining becoming virtually a part of the liquid around them. As they clung to each other, panting, embracing, touching, they were held in the bacta, suspended in the moment, the moment suspended in time.
Hours later, as the two Jedi slept within the red gel, they were unaware of the small figure standing before the glass tank, peering in.
"Much healing power bacta has," the elder Jedi mumbled.
"Mmmm, yes, much healing power."
~ el fin ~
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