With loads of thanks and honey-covered padawans to Pfyre for
the betaing and the tweaking. And for persuading me to release
this!
Permission given to archive at MA
Desperation drove him on. Despite the mud, the rain, the aching
exhaustion and his body's pleas to rest, if only for a moment.
He did not have a moment. Qui-Gon yanked his cloak up, having
to tread determinedly to prevent himself from sinking into the
quagmire that the planet's surface had become through this
torrential downpour. His heart pounded, his cheeks burned and
his head hurt. But none of it was of any importance. The bright
light that had always been in his mind was dying, fading from
his grasp. It would soon be too late.
He tripped, and only his natural, training-enhanced reactions
allowed him to steady himself in the Force and to keep his
balance. He looked down to see what he had stumbled over. His
pounding heart leapt as his eyes found the mud-soaked body in
the sludge. Dropping to his knees, he turned the still form
over, wiping away the dirt from the beautiful face and wiping
his hand on his tunic before scooping his fingers into his
ward's mouth and digging out the mud that had been taken in.
Obi-Wan was not breathing, Qui-Gon knew that much just from
looking at his apprentice. He tried to find a pulse, but as he
believed he had one, it stopped altogether. Qui-Gon cried out
at the injustice, and dropped the body back into the mud.
Tearing open the young man's tunic and once more checking his
mouth for filth, he began resuscitation. He put ten steady
breaths into his apprentice's lungs, and laced his fingers over
his heart, breaking already cracked ribs as he compressed
Obi-Wan's chest, forcing blood into the heart.
He repeated the cycle over and over, unheeded tears falling
from his eyes, cutting tracks through the mud on Obi-Wan's
face. "Breathe, damn you," he muttered as the heel of his hand
dug almost brutally into his padawan's chest. "Don't you dare
leave me, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon did not realize his words had been
so loudly called until he heard himself in the wind. The gales
were howling around them now, the rain a constant backlash of
water drops cutting into his chilled face and hands. He had no
idea for how long he kept it up - far longer than anyone would
have considered Obi-Wan's chances of survival. But Qui-Gon did
not - could not - give up.
He leaned in to give the fourth breath of the sequence, when he
stopped dead. Something was happening under his fingers. A
single heartbeat managed alone. Again he bent to assist the
ravaged system by breathing for it, when Obi-Wan simultaneously
gasped and retched. Qui-Gon turned him, holding his head steady
as mud and dirt were thrown up from his throat and lungs. He
carefully put his fingers into his apprentice's mouth, scooping
out any remaining blockage before slipping his large hand
between Obi-Wan's head and the muddy ground in which it lay.
With the fingers of his other hand he searched for and located
a pulse on his padawan's neck, monitoring it, keeping a close
check also on his breathing.
They had only a few minutes to be spared in this way. Obi-Wan
needed medical care and they were far from it. His shuttle
however, only by the miracle of The Force he had managed to
land it in one piece and it had not sunk into the mud, offered
shelter, supplies and warmth, and would get them off this
hellish planet when the storms subsided. Obi-Wan's body was
already in shock and could too easily sink dangerously deeper.
They had to get to safety.
Qui-Gon made the decision and rose to a crouch. Leaning down,
his scooped his padawan out of the mud and into his arms.
Obi-Wan's head rolled sickeningly against his shoulder. Yet he
was still breathing, and that was the very best that Qui-Gon
could hope for at the moment. Turning, thankful that the wind
was now at his back, Qui-Gon started back toward the shuttle.
Obi-Wan was a dead weight in his arms when he finally reached
the shuttle. Qui-Gon dropped him gently on to one of the two
small berths while he massaged the blood back into his own
arms. But the padawan's abused system would not wait long.
Qui-Gon found the first aid kit and filled a small bowl with
water, finding a clean cloth. He started by striping the filthy
clothes from his student's deathly still form, feeling the
chill of his skin as the robes came away.
A careful investigation of the young man's injuries revealed
a-wound on the back of his skull. Qui-Gon put a little effort
into healing the ribs that he had broken in order to save his
padawan's life. He was exhausted himself though, and had
precious little energy to devote to healing Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon cleaned his apprentice gently, wiping the cloth over
his body before dressing him in a clean, dry robe and covering
him in blankets. He was reluctant to wash the young man's hair,
worried about the effect it would have on his body temperature,
but it was caked in mud, and Obi-Wan really did hate being
mucky. Lovingly, Qui-Gon wet his fingers and carded them
through Obi-Wan's short hair, removing the dirt first from his
head, and them from the braid that he freed from its ties.
Finally the young man was as clean as he was going to get. His
wounds were tended and dressed, and he was wrapped up warm.
Qui-Gon could only hope it was enough. He cleared up, and
undressed himself, changing his own filthy clothes for fresh
ones, glad of Yoda's advice when he had packed the shuttle for
this rescue mission. His mind had not been clear as he had
readied to leave Coruscant.
Qui-Gon took the berth across from Obi-Wan's and lay awake,
watching his unconscious apprentice. The shuttle was cramped,
small enough to enable Qui-Gon to reach over and touched his
padawan's cold face. He was not warming. Hypothermia seemed to
be setting in. Resolutely, Qui-Gon climbed from his bed and
moved to the other, carefully moving to lie behind his ward. He
wrapped himself very gently around the chilled body, willing
his warmth through to the young man.
Slipping his arm under Obi-Wan's neck, Qui-Gon closed his eyes.
Exhaustion finally dragged him into a restless sleep.
Frightened to open his eyes, Obi-Wan lay still, chilled to the
bone despite the enveloping warm of the mud he believed would
be his grave. His mind wept at his pointless death, yet
physically he did not have the strength. He could not move,
held by the dirt caked around him. He considered reaching out
with his senses, with the Force. But he saw little point in
doing so; Qui-Gon, anyone, was far from here. The planet was
dangerous, deserted. That was why they had chosen this place
for his test.
And he had failed. He was going to die, if he was not dead
already. Was there death for him? Would he eventually sleep and
never wake. Or was this the Force, keeping his mind imprisoned
in his mistreated body? The darkness pushed at the edge of his
consciousness, and suddenly he did not want to let go to it. He
started to struggle, anger and rage willing him to move from
the coffin nature was forming around him....
...Qui-Gon awoke with an armful of terrified padawan. He
released his hold slightly. The arm tucked under Obi-Wan's head
was in a bloodless sleep of its own. But he brought the other
arm up to stroke Obi-Wan's side and hair.
"Obi-Wan, Padawan, it's alright, you're safe." Obi-Wan came to
consciousness with sickening speed. He retched in vain as his
eyes opened to the dim lighting of the craft. Qui-Gon's hands
touched his forehead. "Obi?"
The soft tones pierced the fog in Obi-Wan's mind and he focused
on his master's touch. "Mast...."
"I'm here, we're in the shuttle, Obi-Wan, you're going to be
fine."
Rescued. The thought came to Obi-Wan in a sudden wave. Qui-Gon
had come for him. "Failed...."
"No, Padawan. They made a terrible mistake sending you here.
They sent me for you. It was the council's failing, my Padawan,
not yours. I promise you they will not make another mistake
with your life." It was a heartfelt promise that Qui-Gon had
silently made his student before now. He meant it through to
his soul.
Obi-Wan released a deep breath and huddled back into his
master's warmth. "So cold...."
"I know, Obi, I've been trying to warm you...." He knew basic
first aid, and he cursed himself. Pulling his arm bonelessly
from under Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon pulled his robe over his head and
very gently manoeuvred his student's robe from his body.
Obi-Wan allowed the manipulation, trusting his very soul to his
master. Burrowing back under the blankets, Qui-Gon enfolded his
apprentice into his arms, pressing his student's back to his
own chest. His own body warmth began to warm Obi-Wan
immediately.
"We shall take off as soon as the weather calms, Obi-Wan." But
his apprentice was already sleeping again, deep and dangerous.
Qui-Gon sighed softly. He stepped cautiously into his student's
mind, winding a tendril of the Force around Obi-Wan. Knowing
that his apprentice waking would also wake him, Qui-Gon allowed
himself also to sleep.
He was warmer and calmer when he next opened his eyes. His
master was solid behind him, wrapped around him, and he knew
that at least for the moment, he was safe. He felt soft lips
press to his shoulder, and he stiffened for a mere moment
before smiling and moving back into the contact.
Qui-Gon came to his senses suddenly. "Padawan," he had to stop
himself moving away. "I'm sorry...."
Obi-Wan frowned at the mortification in his master's tone; it
had only been a touch. "No apologies. 'S nice." He felt
Qui-Gon's hesitation and then another intimate kiss to his
neck.
"I was so worried that I'd lost you, Padawan. I won't let you
go now." Qui-Gon cast his senses outside. The storms had
subsided. "I'm going to get us home, Obi-Wan. Will you be
alright?"
"Yes."
Qui-Gon climbed out of bed, dressing Obi-Wan in his robe and
tucking the sheets around him. Painfully determined, Obi-Wan
turned to smile as his master dressed. "Master... thank you."
Qui-Gon crouched down by the bed, touching Obi-Wan's forehead
with his fingers, and then his lips. "Get some more rest. We'll
be home soon."
Having Obi-Wan taken from him on their arrival was almost more
than Qui-Gon could bear. Despite the journey only taking a few
hours, Obi-Wan's condition had deteriorated quickly. He had
lost consciousness an hour into the trip, and this time Qui-Gon
had been unable to wake him.
The master Jedi was, in truth, relieved to find the medical
entourage waiting for them on the docking pad. But Yoda gently
yet firmly held him back from interfering. Everything possible
would be done for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon just had to let the healers
do their job.
"Trust, you must," Yoda told him as they walked finally into
the infirmary, behind the crowd who had taken Obi-Wan.
"I know, my Master. It's just... difficult."
"Know, I do, Qui-Gon." His low voice was gentle understanding.
In the main hall of the infirmary, they were asked to wait. A
moment later, Qui-Gon sank into one of the chairs, moaning
softly as his hands held his head. Obi-Wan's heart had once
again failed him; Qui-Gon knew that with complete certainty. He
could sense his padawan's terrified struggle to cling to life
despite his body's wish to give in to the hurt. Without quite
realizing what he was doing, Qui-Gon reached out to Obi-Wan,
snagging him in his master's own life force and holding him
them, helping him reach his physical body.
Only vaguely did Qui-Gon hear the commotion beyond the walls.
He fell forward, caught by the Force manipulated by Yoda. It
was the last he knew for a while.
Obi-Wan came to slowly, his body feeling like lead. He turned
his head and could not suppress the whimper as the shot of pain
sliced through his head. Immediately, there was a cool,
soothing touch to his cheek and the murmur of a comforting
voice. He could not quite catch the actual words spoken, but
the tone was reassuring and he soon sank back into the healing
darkness, cradled now by a warmth in his mind.
The next time he came to wakefulness, the pain had lessened and
an easy haze had settled over him. For someone so aware as
Obi-Wan, it was a disturbing sensation and he fought it, trying
to bring a clear, concise thought to his mind.
"Easy, Padawan." Again his master was at his side. "The drugs
are simply preventing you from feeling the pain, nothing more."
Qui-Gon's explanation was quickly accepted. Obi-Wan remembered
the agony of before and was vaguely grateful for the
medication. Blindly, he reached out a trembling, weak hand and
it was taken and held. "I'm here, Obi-Wan. There's nothing to
be afraid of."
Trusting in that voice, feeling something when he heard it that
somehow warmed him, Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes. What he
saw was a blur. But the light was dim, thankfully. Blinking
rapidly, Obi-Wan cleared his vision to make out the shape of
his master sitting by his bedside. "Master...."
A gentle hand brushed over his forehead, down his bare arms.
"Rest, my Padawan, everything is well now."
Accepting again, Obi-Wan closed his eyes.
"Sleep, you should." Qui-Gon opened his eyes to look directly
at his master's concerned gaze. He had rested here, leaning on
the bed, Obi-Wan's hand tucked into both of his, for two days,
moving only when nature forced him to.
"I will not leave him, as well you know." His tone remained
respectful, with only the smallest of tired teasing. Yoda had
tried persuading him to move every few hours.
"Fine, he will be."
"Yes. And frightened he is." Qui-Gon sighed softly, his eyes
sweeping over the pale face of his sleeping apprentice. "After
all he's been through... I'm not surprised."
"Strong he is, Qui-Gon." But Yoda's voice held warm affection.
"That does not prevent me from worrying about him, or for
wanting to be near him."
"The only reason it is not."
Qui-Gon's head snapped around, his intense stare pinning his
master. "What does that mean?"
"Know you do." Yoda's tone was grave, yet his eyes twinkled. "A
bond you formed."
Qui-Gon swallowed guiltily. It was true, although it had not
been intentional. Reaching for Obi-Wan, when his padawan had
been falling, Qui-Gon had indeed planted the seed of a soulbond
that was even now blossoming into something beautiful,
something intense. Something permanent. "I... did not mean it
to happen."
Yoda's small hand settled over Qui-Gon's arm, and for a quiet
moment they watched Obi-Wan together. "Precious he is. Loves
you he does. Concern yourself not, Qui-Gon. Right, this is."
A quiet sound shut them both up. Qui-Gon smiled when he found
himself looking into quizzical blue-green eyes. "Padawan...."
"Water?"
Qui-Gon reached for the glass and drinking straw, holding the
end of the straw to Obi-Wan's lips as he took several sips. He
dropped his head back to indicate it was enough, and Qui-Gon
thought he might return to sleep. Instead, he seemed to fight
his drowsiness. "...you all right?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "I am in perfect health, young one. You,
however, need to rest."
Obi-Wan's face rumpled. "'nough sleep."
Always so stubborn, Qui-Gon thought, grateful just to have
Obi-Wan there. A miracle, the healers had said, that he had
survived the journey back to Coruscant at all. Sheer
bloodimindedness had always been on Obi-Wan's side. "You were
very badly hurt, Padawan, you need to sleep to allow your body
to heal."
Obi-Wan finally seemed to accept that, although his fingers
tightened around Qui-Gon's hand as his eyes closed once again.
Two days later, Qui-Gon was not aware of anything as he was
aware of the developing bond between he and his padawan.
Obi-Wan was healing, and the Jedi Master believed he could
almost feel the process as if it were his own body recovering
from such a trauma.
Obi-Wan spent longer and longer periods awake, and a lot of
that time was taken up by watching his master, as his master
watched him. Qui-Gon was beginning to become concerned. His
padawan had been playing with his fingers, seeming to need the
physical contact as badly as Qui-Gon yearned for it. The
soulbond. Qui-Gon understood the requirement for newly-bondeds
to be together, to touch more than usual. It eased the dull
ache that a new bond could give.
"Does it hurt, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked carefully, late the
following afternoon. Obi-Wan looked at him with confused eyes
and nodded. Qui-Gon sighed. "I am sorry, Obi-Wan. It is my
fault."
Obi-Wan frowned at that. "No.... Master, you saved my life."
"Maybe. But it seems that by doing so, I have created something
neither of us can deny."
Obi-Wan smiled tentatively. "The bond."
Qui-Gon nodded. "You've noticed it," he commented wryly.
A small chuckle escaped the younger man's lips. "It's
impossible not to, Master." His smile faded. "Will it hurt us?"
The sparkle in his master's eye - however small - reassured
Obi-Wan.
"No, Padawan, it will not. What you're feeling at the moment -
the need to be close to me - is natural for a new bond. I feel
it also."
Obi-Wan took this in, continuing to play absently with his
master's fingers. "How did it happen?"
Qui-Gon stroked the back of his padawan's hand, wondering at
how the small hurt within him eased with such simple contact.
"When I first brought you in here, your heart stopped again, as
it had when I found you. I could feel you... slipping away from
me as I could before. I couldn't let you go and so I reached
out for you and pulled you back."
The emotion in the tone betrayed Qui-Gon's feeling behind his
simplistic words. Obi-Wan found that he could sense his
master's true emotions easily now. "Master... if there is no
death, what had you to fear of my dying?"
Qui-Gon could not suppress a smile as his own teachings were
repeated back at him by his student. Obi-Wan had been an
inquisitive child. He was a wise man. "I feared losing you," he
admitted freely. "I feared waking to days that you would not
fill. Feared taking meals without the fulfillment of your
conversation. Feared having to face a mission without you by my
side. I feared never seeing your beautiful eyes dance with
mischief just one more time."
Silence fell between them, yet the bond pulsed with the same
raw emotions that Qui-Gon had somehow put into words. Obi-Wan
clasped his master's hand harder, as if that would allay the
sudden tears that pooled in his eyes. Maintaining the contact
with his left hand, Qui-Gon used the thumb of his right to wipe
the tears from the corners of his padawan's eyes. Then he
leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the young man's
forehead.
"Rest, Obi-Wan. I will be here."
Qui-Gon woke suddenly, launching himself from the chair when
his eyes set upon the empty bed before him. Panic had almost
taken hold when he heard his name spoken softly from the
doorway. Obi-Wan was walking toward him, swaying slightly, but
looking healthier than he had since leaving Coruscant a week
ago. He looked younger too, the medical gown he wore covering
him from neck to ankles and his hair hanging free from his
pony-tail and braid.
Qui-Gon reached for his padawan, steadying him as he made his
way back to the bed. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Master." He smiled as Qui-Gon helped him under the
sheets. "Just nature's call." He looked up at his master. "You
needed to sleep." He glanced away. "I owe you my life."
Catching an edge of the guilt in his padawan's words, as well
as an echo of failure in their bond, Qui-Gon sat on the edge of
his student's bed, finding Obi-Wan's hand in his own. "Your
safety is my obligation, Obi-Wan." But his young apprentice
knew better, knew Qui-Gon felt more for him than simple
obligation. "I will always find you," Qui-Gon offered
eventually, smiling gently.
Obi-Wan reflected his master's expression and settled down on
his side, eyes closing. "I am all right, aren't I?" he murmured
tiredly.
"Of course." Qui-Gon ran a gentle hand over Obi-Wan's hair.
"Your system's had a bad shock, Padawan. You need to rest to
heal. This is usual. Sleep, young one. I'll be here when you
wake."
Hand still held in Qui-Gon's, Obi-Wan allowed himself to slip
into a peaceful sleep.
After six days in the infirmary, Obi-Wan was released into his
master's care. Qui-Gon spoilt him, bringing him his favourite
foods, reading to him as he rested, making him take his
master's large bed while Qui-Gon slept in Obi-Wan's room. The
apprentice endured three days of such gentle treatment before
persuading Qui-Gon that he could safely be left alone for a few
hours.
"I've been hovering, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him as they sat on
the staging before one of the floor to ceiling windows that
looked out from the main living area down into the courtyard
below. Qui-Gon's rooms were of a slightly higher status than
most of the masters'.
Obi-Wan's genuine smile warmed him. "No, Master. But this is
the eighth time the council have summoned you since our return.
I think you ought to go."
It was true. They had summoned him but Qui-Gon had refused to
leave Obi-Wan's side. Master Yoda had visited them and checked
on the padawan's health - physical and mental - several times.
His concern, Qui-Gon had hinted, was mostly founded in the
council's collective guilt. Obi-Wan should not have been sent
alone to that particular planet during the wet season. Qui-Gon
himself had alerted them to their mistake when the pain of
flying debris cracking open his skull had been sent from
Obi-Wan back to his master through their training bond. For
that to occur at such distance was unusual and worthy of
immediate panic.
Since then, Qui-Gon had had very little to say to the council.
Yoda knew that, yet they would continue to call on him until he
saw them.
"All right, Padawan, I shall go. But if you need me..."
"...you'll be the very first to know." Qui-Gon smiled, knowing
perhaps for the first time that it was really true.
Qui-Gon returned to their rooms to be greeted by the most
wonderful scents. Aromatic sandalwood and spices filled the
rooms, a telltale sign of indulgence by his young padawan. He
smiled softly to himself, the boy deserved it after what he had
endured. His swift recovery had been nothing short of
miraculous, the healers had apparently informed the council.
They could not say how long he had been 'dead' before Qui-Gon
had brought him back the first time. Could not or would not.
But the shock, the hypothermia, and the injuries he had
suffered should have put him out of action for longer than it
had.
"Take good care of him you must," Yoda had told him needlessly.
He barely felt able to let Obi-Wan out of his sight.
"Obi-Wan, are you all right?" His bond with his padawan was at
peace, yet he got no reply to his call. Qui-Gon crossed the
sunset bathed living area to quietly open the door to the
bathing room. The sight that met his eyes relayed sudden
messages to his mind and body that he had not realized were
there and now understood. Yet he could not close the door, nor
could he avert his gaze. Obi-Wan was lying in the large, filled
bathtub. His body floated lightly in the oiled water, his head
lolled against one side in sleep. He looked as calm and as at
rest as Qui-Gon had ever seen him. Obi-Wan was strong, he had
of course pulled through the trauma of his ordeal quickly and
with the resilience of youth.
//He's not a boy any longer, Qui // The Jedi master mused.
Indeed, he was not. Obi-Wan's body was the epitome of young
beauty. No longer the pre-pubescent child that Qui-Gon had
raised from a small, frightened boy into a skilled apprentice,
Obi-Wan now displayed the physique of a young man. Shamed with
himself, yet unable to resist, Qui-Gon allowed his gaze to
travel the length of his padawan's body. Sculptured chest, flat
stomach, full cock rested asleep against his thigh, thick and
adequate even at rest.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard and willed himself to step back and
close the door. He moved swiftly to the centre of the living
area and turned to stare out into the sun drenched courtyard
below the window. This had always been their home. In the
smaller of the two sleeping rooms off to his left he had so
often tucked a young Obi into bed and told him a story of Jedi
legend and truth. In recent years they had engaged in other
rituals before bed; a game of chess, quiet meditation in the
amber of the sunset, simply talking together.
And then the council had set him a test and risked his life.
Long ago he had admitted to himself that he loved his
apprentice with more than just his heart. Obi-Wan had captured
his soul also, how could he not? The last eight days had just
brought his own feelings home to him. How much longer would he
bury them and deny Obi-Wan the intense love that the young man
so richly deserved?
"Master?"
Qui-Gon spun, shocked out of his own thoughts by his padawan's
concerned tone. Obi-Wan was standing in the doorway of the
bathing room, a long white towel wrapped around his body, his
shoulders visible above it, his shins and feet below. "Master?
Is everything all right?"
//so beautiful// Qui-Gon regretted the thought immediately,
knowing Obi-Wan would easily have picked it up, and recovered
admirably. "Everything is fine, young padawan, I was merely
concerned for you. How are you feeling?"
Obi-Wan had indeed picked up something, an echo almost, a wave
of gentle affection in his master's regard. It warmed him.
"Perfectly fine, Master. I do wish you would allow me to return
to my studies." There was a hint of impatience in his tone,
mixed with a deep and mature - Qui-Gon mused - understanding.
"Another day or two, young imp. You suffered greatly and must
allow your body chance to recover fully before you begin
punishing it further." He had stepped up to Obi-Wan, and could
feel the heat from the other man's body, could breath in the
fresh scent of clean skin and mingled spices. His mind reeled.
What in Force was he doing? He managed a smile. "Relax,
Padawan. Now how often do I give you leave to do that?"
Qui-Gon moved away and headed for the door. "Master?" Obi-Wan's
tone was one of slight confusion. Qui-Gon could see how his own
actions had been bizarre and almost abrupt. He touched their
bond, hoping to find no sense of hurt. He found none to his
relief. He even thought he sensed... amusement.
"I have some duties to attend to." It was partially true. He
just needed time to think, to order his thoughts. "Just the
usual Temple stuff." He waved his hand. "I won't be long. Will
you be all right?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly in his
respectful response and watched with puzzlement as the door
closed behind his master. 'Usual Temple stuff'?!
Sighing, he gathered the towel up from around himself and
rubbed his flesh dry. When he touched his cock, it sprang into
his hand like a pet wanting attention. His body had healed and
his strength had returned. With all that had come the aching
desire he usually held in check with ease. His master's almost
constant presence had not helped, and his growing awareness of
the soulbond was amplifying his needs to an almost unbearable
level. He had already pleasured himself while bathing, yet once
again his body was demanding release.
He sighed again, dropping the towel to the floor and holding
himself as he walked to his sleeping room. Dropping down on the
bed, he closed his eyes and masturbated slowly, luxuriously,
pleasuring himself as Qui-Gon had taught him - in words only -
so long ago it seemed. The thought of his master, of the
intensity developing between them, the palable tension that
would be so delicious when broken, spurred him to a hard, fast
orgasm.
Qui-Gon stepped back into their quarters feeling a little more
in control than he had previously. He had of course sensed his
padawan's release, and could even now feel the slumbering
desire simmering just below the surface of the young mind he
grew more aware of each hour.
Obi-Wan was sitting comfortably against the inner wall next to
the window, clad in his tunic and leggings, legs stretched out,
his bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was reading something,
a book Qui-Gon recognised as being part of the 'Catch Trilogy'
- a long, involved work of fiction by a recognized classic Jedi
author. Qui-Gon used to read to Obi-Wan from the first book
when the padawan was just a child.
"Obi?"
Obi-Wan looked up, a smile of delight on his face. "How long
has it been since you called me that?"
"Perhaps too long." His padawan obviously did not remember his
words as they had rested in the shuttle. Qui-Gon moved to sit
before his padawan, crossing his legs and lifting Obi-Wan's
feet into his lap, beginning a slow, practiced massage. The
apprentice moaned softly, letting his body relax back against
the wall, dropping the book into his lap.
"That's good, Master." The word had a different quality when
spoken in relaxed pleasure. It sent a shiver of heat up
Qui-Gon's spine. Why was he feeling this now? He gazed at his
Padawan. Because he had almost lost him, that was why. There
was nothing else in his life that he would not be able to live
without. He shivered at the concept, and felt a wave of
reassurance come through their bond. He looked up, smiling
openly as he met his padawan's brilliant eyes. "I love you,"
Obi-Wan stated suddenly, simply, as if it was something he had
declared a million times previously.
Qui-Gon let out a soft sound, as if Obi-Wan's words had been a
physical caress. "I love you too, Padawan."
They could each sense the truth of the other's words. What had
scared Qui-Gon about the soulbond - the need to be close to his
padawan, worries about what the future would bring for them,
the almost desperate sexual need for one another that other
soulbond pairs had reported - now all seemed insignificant
against the backdrop of being allowed into his Obi-Wan's mind.
The mind-touch alone was more intimate than anything Qui-Gon
had ever known. What would the other be like? The physical....
Qui-Gon waited for a while, keeping up the pressures of his
fingers on Obi-Wan's feet. After a time, he asked. "Padawan,
were you scared when you were on the planet?"
Obi-Wan lifted his head to regard his master seriously. Not
many questions had a right or wrong answer, he sensed this one
did. He only knew the truth. "Yes, Master."
"Of what?" It was gently put.
"Of never seeing you again." He paused, but only the truth
would do he reminded himself. "Of failing you."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "You've never failed me."
Obi-Wan paused, reveling in the praise as he always had. Then
he asked, "How about you? Were you scared?"
With a gentle sigh, Qui-Gon answered. "My Obi, I tripped over
your body in the mud. You're the most precious thing in my
life. How do you think I felt?"
Their gazes locked and they moved together, meeting in a
graceful tangle of arms and lips. It felt as if a spark had
been lit somewhere deep in Qui-Gon's soul and within the light
of the flames he could suddenly see what before had been
invisible to him. His padawan tasted like honey, and felt like
paradise in his arms.
Not breaking the kiss, not wanting to face the reality of their
situation, Obi-Wan pushed his master back until he was leaning
once again against the wall. Then he straddled his master,
getting close to him, trying to crawl into his skin. His fists
bunched in the soft material of Qui-Gon's robe and tunic, his
tongue thrusting deeper into the warm, wet mouth devouring him.
Breathless, Qui-Gon pulled his mouth from the other's. Obi-Wan
moaned desperately at the loss until his master gripped his
head and yanked it back almost painfully, those moist lips
delving in for an assault on his neck. The young apprentice
combed his fingers into his master's long hair, curling it
around his hand, directing the head lower into the low, open
collar of his tunic.
Qui-Gon needed no directing. He longed for the taste of his
padawan's skin, to feel graceful fingers walk over his body,
teasing, discovering, as his so wanted to do. He gathered his
apprentice in his arms as his tongue dipped beneath the
material that separated them. Obi-Wan moaned, his desire
growing, and that sound broke what little remained of Qui-Gon's
control. He reached between them, pulling his padawan's tunic
open, kissing every inch of skin exposed to his ministrations.
Obi-Wan's fingers played in his hair, unfastening the leather
tie there, freeing the long silk. He leaned in to trace the
shell of Qui-Gon's ear, using the tip of his tongue to draw a
wet line around the outside before plunging inside for a
moment. His master shuddered against him, powerful arms
tightening around him lest he should try to escape.
Obi-Wan wanted anything but. "More," he urged Qui-Gon.
"Obi...." Qui-Gon's hands made light work of the cloth belt
around his apprentice's waist, opening the tunic, giving
himself more of his padawan's flesh to touch and taste. Obi-Wan
pressed himself into the searching hands roaming his chest,
under the heavy cloth of his tunic around his back.
"Qui, please, pleasepleaseplease." Qui-Gon smiled at the
abbreviation of his name spoken in desire. A writhing padawan
in his arms - this padawan - was something he had thought about
on some lonely nights. The reality was so much more. He slipped
his hands into Obi-Wan's leggings, grabbing the firm ass
tightly to his padawan's squeal of delight.
Obi-Wan had been busy with Qui-Gon's tunic, managing to reveal
his master's body to his ministrations. Now his hands were
seeking their own answers across his master's chest and
stomach. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon breathed the name into his neck.
Obi-Wan raised his head, breathless, storm-green eyes gazing
heatedly into deep blue ones. "Don't tell me we can't do this.
We both want this."
"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort, Padawan. I... I
just love the sound of your name."
Obi-Wan smiled, returning his attention to his master's mouth.
His tongue played across the luscious lips, dipping inside the
welcoming mouth, tasting everything he had ever fantasized
about.
Qui-Gon gasped as hands that had sought their way into his
trousers grasped his erect shaft with a sure grip. His eyes
sparkling, the master returned the gesture, himself hardening
at his padawan's long moan of need. Obi-Wan silently thanked
the Force for his earlier self-stimulated release, without
which his master's sure grip would certainly have caused him
some embarrassment.
But he wanted more. Pulling back from Qui-Gon's embrace,
Obi-Wan made his way down the body being offered to him,
wincing slightly as his chest complained at the further abuse.
He ignored the jab, edging Qui-Gon's trousers down as he went,
lowering his head to kiss his master's stomach. Qui-Gon drew in
a deep breath and held it as his padawan's fingers threaded
into his tangled curls a moment before those skilled lips
descended along his cock.
//breathe// The amusement in the mental command took Qui-Gon by
surprise, and he did as he was told as his student continued to
stimulate and lather him with a talented tongue. When Obi-Wan
moved off him, Qui-Gon had to bite back the cry, did not quite
succeed. His padawan covered his lips with a passionate kiss,
squirming in the master's arms as he removed his own leggings.
Qui-Gon moaned into his apprentice's mouth when he realized
what Obi-Wan had in mind.
The padawan straddled his master, a beautiful sound - half
moan, half growl - escaping his lips when Qui-Gon's fingers
stroked his hanging scrotum, making their way around to his
ass. "Oh, do that again," Qui-Gon muttered happily.
Obi-Wan caught his breath. "What?"
"That sound... it's you, your soul... your heart."
Obi-Wan had no idea what his master was talking about. The only
thing he was aware of was the touch of those maddening fingers,
teasing now, seeking entry but waiting for his ascent. He
leaned forward, pressing a desperate kiss on his master's
parted lips. "Please, Qui-Gon."
At his words he was being gloriously entered and opened, those
fingers trailing a path of fire into his body, setting him
alight as they touched a bright spot within him. He yelled
hard, clenching his muscles around his master's fingers,
wanting more. //now, do it, now please// "Qui, please!"
Gently pulling out, Qui-Gon grasped his padawan's hips and
pulled his forward, trapping their cocks together for a
breathtaking moment before Obi-Wan lifted himself and reached
down for his master's straining cock. Positioning himself, he
sank down slowly, taking Qui-Gon within him.
They gripped one another, kissing and touching everywhere at
once, muttering to one another with words and thoughts. Their
bond flared, brighter than either could have imagined. //Obi I
love you//
//love you too, Qui. More than life//
Obi-Wan rose up and lowered himself again, whimpering with need
when Qui-Gon's hand closed around his cock. They moved together
in harmony, as one. The Force gathered around them, chaotic as
their desires mounted. Obi-Wan yelled a bright profanity as his
master's grip tightened and speeded, chasing him over the edge
into orgasm. His own climax triggered Qui-Gon's and they
collapsed together.
Enfolding his padawan into his arms in protectiveness and
security was second nature for Qui-Gon. Embracing him in the
afterglow of love-making, he found, could be a sensation to
live for. Eventually, Obi-Wan's complaining injuries made him
move, convinced him to search for a more comfortable position.
Before he knew it, the floor was disappearing from under him
and he was being swept up into Qui-Gon's arms. He felt so good
there. Obi-Wan smiled and snuggled. "You heard me."
"In case you hadn't noticed, you're very open to me at the
moment."
//and you to me//
Mace Windu bristled as they watched the scene unfold in the
courtyard below them. They had been discussing Obi-Wan's test,
and the apology that Qui-Gon had reminded the council that they
still owed his padawan. In the gardens below them, Obi-Wan had
been meditating. His outward serene calm impressed even Yoda.
The young apprentice blamed no one for his near-death during
his test. He had been polite and attentive whenever any council
member had spoken to him. And the only defiance they had
previously seen had been mere sparkles in his eyes.
Qui-Gon stepped up behind his padawan and lowered himself to
sit behind him, one leg either side of the slim, powerful body.
Obi-Wan smiled, leaning back into his master's arms when they
wrapped around his waist. Maybe that could have been explained
in terms of concern, the stress of the last few days telling on
them both. But the soft kisses that Qui-Gon rained on his
padawan's neck, the unmistakable roll of Obi-Wan's head to give
his master access, the curve of his lips, the close of his
eyes.... And the kiss they shared, long and deep.
Mace glanced down at a smiling Yoda. "We cannot allow this."
"A choice we do not have."
"You knew about this?"
"Fated to happen, it was."
Obi-Wan moaned softly, smiling. "Have I expressed how much I
love this change in our relationship?"
Qui-Gon nuzzled his neck. "Twice last night, twice this
morning."
His padawan moaned, squirming slightly under his master's lips.
"Not just the sex... although it is mind-blowing. This...
you... your arms, your mouth, the way you're holding me now,
the way you held me last night."
"It means everything to me too, beloved."
Tilting his head, Obi-Wan stole a kiss from his master. Their
lips pressed together, then parted, tongues fighting for
position. Qui-Gon knew, in the back of his mind, that they were
being watched. He didn't care. He wanted to do this in front of
everyone! He wanted to tell the entire planet that he loved his
Obi-Wan, that he was loved back. The soulbond joined them in a
way that could never be broken. Nothing - no one - was ever
going to come between them. Whatever cares the council had
about them, about the situation, whatever code ruled over a
master having such a relationship with his apprentice, none of
that mattered.
Stroking his padawan's cheek with almost trembling fingertips,
Qui-Gon looked into the stormy eyes tracing the lines of his
lips and thought he might just let himself drown in them.
"Always, Padawan."
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