SUMMARY: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan. Sexual content. PWP. When Qui-Gon
loses his memory, he gains something else in exchange.
NOTES: For Kalia, who donated the plot bunny.
ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible and wherever you like.
The man opened his eyes, disturbed.
He pondered why. He seemed to be in one piece. Physically
sound, everything was all right as far as his body went...
He opened his eyes, and looked blearily around. Didn't
recognize his surroundings. A light-filled room, stone walls,
comfortable bed. It could have been any bedchamber.
Since he didn't recognize it, obviously he must be visiting
somewhere...
Wherever 'where' was.
That was the disturbance.
He couldn't remember his dreams. Couldn't remember where he
was.
Couldn't...
Couldn't even remember who he was.
This was not good.
He sat up, intending to... well, he wasn't sure. He wasn't
clothed, and that was somewhat of a hindrance to any quest to
seek some answers.
A young man entered the room, saw him sitting there, and knelt
in front of him. "Master, I'm glad to see that you're awake."
Master? The man examined that title, and the figure bent
before him. A well-muscled youth, with a charming voice, and an
obviously submissive posture... This then was his slave?
There was an intriguing concept. It was early enough to his
body that he felt a reflexive arousal. Whoever he was, he had
good taste in men.
That was a funny thought. Was he then oriented toward men
sexually? Did it matter?
Not particularly.
He reached out to the slave, brushing the other man's cheek
with his hand.
The youth leaned into his touch, face rubbing against his
palm.
The man leaned down, putting both palms on either side of the
slave's face, pulling him gently upward. There was no
resistance, and the man felt triumph that, despite his lack of
memory, he had been able to read this situation correctly. The
small victory made him feel more in control of himself.
He drew the other man to him, kissing him possessively. This
was a first encounter in a way, and he treasured it for that.
Surely he'd made love to this boy before, but due to his lack
of memory, it would be like the first time all over again. Very
pleasant.
"Master," the young man groaned into his mouth.
He wanted to respond, but didn't know the youth's name. Of
course, they seemed to be using titles...
"Yes, slave?"
The body in his arms stiffened, then jerked away from him.
"Master?"
That was definitely a rejection.
Obviously he'd misstepped in some fashion. It was time to
confess, as he could see that the seduction would not be
progressing any further.
"I apologize. I... seem to have lost my memory." He smiled a
little. "And I confess I saw an opportunity to take advantage
of the situation."
"I..." The youth jerked backwards, kneeling by what looked to
be trained habit, then stood. "I... you are my teacher. You
chose me as your apprentice nearly ten years ago. We... I am
not a slave."
"I apologize again."
The young man smiled a little, tentatively. "You still sound
like the same person. You are usually... considerate." He
blushed, no doubt thinking of the kiss they had shared. The man
revised his opinion on whether it was customary for the two of
them to share a bed.
Maybe that had been the first time.
If so, what was he thinking?
The young man seemed willing enough. And he was certainly
desirable.
He shook his head. "What is your name? And mine, if I might
ask?"
"Oh!" The youth jumped a bit, with nervousness, perhaps? "I am
Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, and you are Master Qui-Gon Jinn. We
both serve the Jedi order."
"And I call you, 'Padawan'?"
"Sometimes. Or Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon acknowledged that. It was good to have a name for
himself, even if it sounded unfamiliar. The title sounded
right, though.
"And what are the Jedi?"
"I, ah..." We have these swords, and we swing them, and
there's lots of meditation involved, and you want to have sex.
With me. "The Jedi serve a peacekeeping body to the
Republic. We believe in peace, and the Force."
"And the Force is?"
The padawan stared at him. "I never thought I would be
instructing you on the ways of the Force."
"I'm sure it did not occur to me that I would lose my memory."
"It didn't -- you were injured. I, well, I did it."
"You did?"
The tone was calm and level, making Obi-Wan squirm. "Yes. You
had me levitating a great number of objects including yourself,
and I lost my concentration. You... for some reason, you did
not catch yourself, and you fell to the stone walkway in the
garden. On your head. The healers said they'd done all they
could, and that you weren't in any pain, and that all that was
needed further was for you to wake up. They didn't say anything
about amnesia."
"Levitating... This then is the Force?"
"Among other things. We can sense feelings, and sometimes
thoughts. The Force can be used to enhance the body's strength,
and to heal. I -- I should really contact the healers. They'll
want to know. I'm sure that they can help you."
"I suppose that's probably for the best. I am enjoying your
company though. And, Padawan?"
"Yes?"
He pulled Obi-Wan close to him, and kissed him soundly. "I
won't be forgetting this."
When he'd heard his master moving about that morning, Obi-Wan
had been overjoyed. He'd been worried over the injury he'd
caused, and meditation did not ease his guilt. Seeing Qui-Gon
awake and well -- that would most effectively dispel his
anxiety.
He'd knelt in front of his master, greatly relieved to see him
sitting up, and prepared to offer every kind of apology he knew
for his mistake.
The hand against his cheek seemed like a silent forgiveness,
and tears stood in his eyes as he rubbed back against that
touch, so grateful for it.
And then, then the most amazing thing had happened...
Obi-Wan touched his lips, remembering. Qui-Gon had kissed him.
Not in any fraternal sort of way, as was customary in certain
cultures. But firmly and sensuously. He'd almost fallen apart
under that kiss. So unexpected, so right.
So good.
He'd called on Qui-Gon then, disbelieving that this could be
real...
...and been proven correct. It wasn't real. His ever-so
familiar master had called him 'slave', and Obi-Wan had
known that this was not Qui-Gon, that something was
wrong.
He'd struggled to keep his composure during Qui-Gon's
questions about the Jedi, aware of his master's presence,
unable to dismiss the memory of that kiss, and shaken.
Profoundly shaken.
Qui-Gon... as his lover. He shivered again in memory.
Of course, Qui-Gon had acted without knowledge of the past or
his own identity. The 'real' Qui-Gon would never do such a
thing.
Which made the second kiss so much more shattering.
And the feel of Qui-Gon's hardness against him so much more
searing.
His master was with the healers now, and Obi-Wan hoped that
they could help Qui-Gon. Even as a part of him wished that this
new persona would remain.
Over the course of days, Qui-Gon regained his memories. The
healers, now alerted to the hidden damage, had begun a program
to return his memories to him. First by healing the pathways in
his brain, then furthering his recovery with short meetings
with people he had known, and visits to old places.
After the first day, Qui-Gon had already begun to recall his
life, not the memories of the past so much as a sense of who he
was.
To Obi-Wan, who only saw his master briefly, it seemed that
what Qui-Gon was regaining was his distance.
He was glad that Qui-Gon was getting better, but some part of
him hurt at the loss of the more open person he had seen for
only an instant.
Obi-Wan made himself be comfortable with that reality.
Meditated. Performed his exercises with precision. Fasted.
Meditated some more.
He would not shame Qui-Gon by bringing up his master's
actions. Qui-Gon would probably apologize for his lapse.
Obi-Wan would handle that. He would respond with dignity, and
the matter would be dropped, never to be brought up again.
Those two kisses did not have to affect their bond.
All would return to normal.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, almost as soon as he had resettled
himself into their quarters.
"Yes, master?"
Qui-Gon was back. With his memories -- and his composure --
intact. From this afternoon forward, they would resume their
teacher-student relationship, and everything would be the same.
Exactly the same.
"I wish to apologize for my actions," Qui-Gon said. "It was
not right for me to take advantage of your trust that way. Even
without the memories to guide me. Will you forgive me?"
Yes, master. Of course, master. Whatever you wish,
master. "No."
"Ah." Qui-Gon paused, a sad expression passing across his
face. "I must apologize again then, for hurting you past
forgiveness. What amends can I make to you?"
He knew that Qui-Gon would do anything. Literally. He would
give Obi-Wan up to another master if that was what it took to
set things right between them. Would humble himself to his
padawan to make reparations. For something that was not even
his fault. Emotion surged within Obi-Wan.
"I do not want to forgive you. I want you to do it again."
Obi-Wan expected a negative response to that confession. A
lecture even. Instead, he got a whisper.
"Are you certain?"
This time he could say, with a glad heart, "Yes, master."
And Qui-Gon leaned down, enfolded him in his arms, and met
Obi-Wan's eager lips with his own.
Obi-Wan clutched at Qui-Gon, determined to see this become a
reality, and his master chuckled, pressing his lips to
Obi-Wan's forehead. "Forgive me then for this, Obi-Wan. For not
realizing that your feelings were real, and for not allowing
you to know that I shared them."
"Gladly."
Heat grasped him, spilling outward from his chest and groin,
filling him up. He groaned as Qui-Gon met his mouth again, his
open mouth inviting in a thrusting tongue.
He grabbed at Qui-Gon's hips to steady himself, and they swung
closer. Qui-Gon was taller, but willing to lean into him to
equalize their heights, much as Obi-Wan was straining to meet
Qui-Gon's hardness with his own.
His heart was pulsing erratically as they met, and he groaned
again, long and fervently. "That is so good."
His voice stuttered and broke on the final word, almost
sobbing.
"Yes." Qui-Gon's voice was a low, throaty purr.
Obi-Wan rubbed himself against Qui-Gon, head dropping to rest
on his master's chest. He couldn't concentrate on anything but
the feeling of Qui-Gon against him, couldn't muster any of his
training except that which said to live in the moment. He
swayed away from Qui-Gon and back again, just for the novelty
of it, and was jerked firmly against the other man.
Heat. All-consuming heat. Obi-Wan wasn't sure who reached out
first, but suddenly, they were disentangling themselves from
their clothing, letting it lay where it fell.
Obi-Wan stopped when he was finally nude. A cool current
brushed over his skin, and he took in large breaths of air.
Qui-Gon brushed his fingers along Obi-Wan's side, as if
calming a skittish animal. "Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes."
The catch in his voice brought Qui-Gon's other hand up,
stroking his back, then sweeping down to cover the curves of
his buttocks.
He shuddered. "You... oh..."
"I what?"
Obi-Wan's eyes opened, and he looked up. "I will drop you on
your head again if you stop now."
"Threats, padawan? Jedi use their powers to defend and
protect, never to attack others."
Obi-Wan would have protested if Qui-Gon had stopped touching
him. His master brought his hands around and stroked down
Obi-Wan's stomach, making the shudders worse. "Not a threat,"
he breathed. "I just wouldn't be able to concentrate if you
stopped now. Probably drop myself too."
"We can't have that. And I do believe it's my duty as your
master to ensure your well-being."
He swallowed. "I love you."
"As I love you."
Taking Obi-Wan's hand, Qui-Gon drew his padawan into the
bedchamber. He sat down on the bed, not releasing the hand he
held. Obi-Wan remained still as his master stroked it,
examining the fingers of that hand, as if seeing it for the
first time.
"Master, that morning..."
"Yes?"
"I felt as though this was perfectly right, as though being
held in your arms was where I wanted to be." He hesitated.
"I... I am your padawan. Not your equal. I feel..."
"Yes?" again, encouraging.
"...as though I'm taking advantage of you."
Despite their nudity, Qui-Gon was as solemn as though he were
in full formal garb. "Would you prefer that we let this rest
until you become a knight?"
"I can't ask you to wait."
"Do you think my affections so easily given that I would
forget you so soon?"
"Um... yes?"
Forbidding Qui-Gon was now in evidence. "Truly?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He wanted to sit, to cease standing, but he
could not make himself sit on the bed, and it seemed extremely
awkward to kneel. Of course, it did get a certain message
across...
He knelt.
"I have loved my master for years upon years. Loved you. I
want to give to you. To see your happiness, and share in it. Is
that enough to ask you to alter our bond? To make you something
other than simply my master? I feel that I'm trespassing."
"You have asked, and I have accepted, Obi-Wan. I don't know
what more assurance to give you."
Obi-Wan nodded. Trust in his emotions. That was what he had to
do. Qui-Gon would not influence his decision; his master had
too much integrity. But he had made his feelings clear.
He was inches from Qui-Gon's legs. He moved forward, pressing
his chest against them, then bent his head, kissing the
textured skin.
A hand groped for his braid and Qui-Gon's hand passed over
Obi-Wan's cheek as that hand caressed the entwined hair.
His master's renewed erection caught his attention. Obi-Wan
pressed harder against Qui-Gon's legs, and slipped between them
as they separated.
He let his face rub against the hardness awaiting him, feeling
an answering pull inside himself.
"Obi-Wan... this is not required."
He looked up, trying to school his face to innocence. "Don't
you want to?"
"Imp."
"Ascetic."
His tongue flicked out to touch silky skin. He felt his
master's legs tense, heard the barely noticeable extra deepness
in Qui-Gon's breathing.
This was good, he decided.
He licked the eager hardness until it was slick, and then
mouthed it, leaning against the bed for balance, hands holding
on to Qui-Gon's legs.
He focused on the little changes in his master's demeanor,
savoring the inheld breaths, and the trembles of his legs as
Qui-Gon held himself back from thrusting hard.
Pleasure swelled within him at knowing that he could give this
to his master.
His lover.
"Obi-Wan..." came the deep voice, tight with strain, "now
would be a good time to stop if you do not wish to take this to
its conclusion. I... I want very much..."
Obi-Wan didn't pull away. He had a fair idea of what was
happening, and wanted to take Qui-Gon there. Wanted to give him
everything.
He sensed the imminent orgasm as Qui-Gon reached out for him.
Their minds touched and Obi-Wan felt the rushing desire, the
choked need, and the overmastering love that Qui-Gon felt for
him, the gratitude that he was loved so much that Obi-Wan would
wish to do this for him.
And then pulses of fluid filled his mouth, and Obi-Wan
accepted it, swallowing as he sensed Qui-Gon wanted him to do,
and feeling the release spread through him as well.
His own orgasm was being triggered by Qui-Gon's, and suddenly,
Obi-Wan felt hands forcing him up, holding him tightly until he
was thrust back onto the bed, and he was engulfed too in the
same warm wetness that was twice as good when experienced for
himself.
He was already coming, unable to stop himself. Those same
strong hands held his hips now, and he writhed against them,
moaning in a long sob.
He was scarcely aware when Qui-Gon let go of him, dazed, but
noted when Qui-Gon came back to him. Qui-Gon sat down on the
edge of the bed, and Obi-Wan curled into him, wanting to hold
him and be held.
"Just a moment, Obi-Wan. Let me clean you."
Obi-Wan couldn't see a good reason to do that, but then, he
couldn't see a good reason to protest either.
Qui-Gon dabbed him with a wet towel, then lifted him with the
Force.
"What...?" Startled, Obi-Wan struggled.
"I'm just..."
Obi-Wan instinctively fought against the hold, using the Force
to break it, even as Qui-Gon fought to lower him back to the
bed.
He fell.
As the conflicting impetus of his own and Qui-Gon's
involuntary reflexes to check his fall sent the padawan head
first into the hard, stone wall.
Qui-Gon leaned anxiously over his apprentice, whom he'd laid
on the bed. "Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan?"
The stunned youth opened his eyes. "Hmm? What?"
"Are you all right? You hit your head."
A confused gaze met his. "Who are you?"
Oh, no. Qui-Gon felt a sinking regret that all that they'd
shared had been lost, and anxiety for his love. "I am your
master, Qui-Gon Jinn."
Sitting up with more gracefulness than Qui-Gon expected from
someone with a head injury, his padawan then toppled over into
his lap. Legs behind him, head on his thighs... Qui-Gon was
concerned that Obi-Wan had tried to move too soon, and reached
down, preparing to put Obi-Wan back down on the bed until the
healers could arrive.
But then Obi-Wan spoke.
"If you're my master, then I must be your slave." A tongue
flicked out and began exploring his navel.
And Qui-Gon knew. He stared down at that serene face.
Obi-Wan looked up, smiling. "Did you really think I could
forget you?"
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