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Life as a Jedi Knight has not turned out as Obi-Wan hoped it would, but time with his master and long conversations create new possibilities.

Categories: Qui/Obi, Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort.

Rated R, for fairly mild sex.

I welcome all feedback, brief or extended, enthusiastic or critical, private or public. drsquidlove@virginqueen.com

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are the property of Lucasfilm. I make no profit.

Thanks to Gloriana, Dee and Ally, who helped to make this not-suck.  

Obi-Wan hobbled down the ramp, leaning heavily on his crutches. It was not the entrance most ex-padawans liked to make for their masters, but he had done well to survive with his rear end intact, let alone the rest. "Stop smiling and take my bag."

That brought a full grin, but Qui-Gon stepped up to shoulder the pack. "I managed to appropriate one of the private cabins, a few minutes walk from the central temple, so if you would like to share?"

Obi-Wan warmed at that. "Just like old times."

Qui-Gon led the way out of the clearing, down a shrub-lined path, near-shuffling to match Obi-Wan's pace. Obi-Wan put his embarrassment aside, to indulge in the soothing forest and the feel of warm sun on his face, a balm after six days in transit and a month before that on cloud-wrapped Keraglu.

"You shaved the beard."

Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek. "You sound disappointed."

"I liked it."

Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise, but Qui-Gon had turned away, to look up another path. He'd never commented on the beard when they met up on Coruscant last year. No, two years ago, now. Time passed ever more quickly.

Of course, Qui-Gon insisted on examining his leg as soon as Obi-Wan settled in their room.

"I'm hungry."

"There will be plenty of food left when we get there."

"The Bliner healers are perfectly competent."

"So am I. Be quiet and show me your leg."

Obi-Wan huffed and sat on the second bed, leaning back on his elbows and exuding patience as Qui-Gon sat beside him to unclip the leg of his pants. "How does it look?"

"Like you fell off a building." A pointed look, before Qui-Gon laid his palm on the bruise-dark thigh.

Obi-Wan shifted at the tingle that passed through him. "I ran into Jaysa last third."

Qui-Gon's hand withdrew. "You didn't tell me that."

Obi-Wan shrugged. Jaysa wasn't one of his favourite subjects. For some reason, Obi-Wan hadn't felt comfortable talking to Qui-Gon about her even when Obi-Wan and Jaysa were a pair. Since he found her in the arms of two Corellian prostitutes, he hadn't liked to discuss her at all.

"How was she?"

"The same. Beautiful. Energetic. The centre of attention."

Qui-Gon didn't answer.

"I felt like a padawan again, the boring outsider."

"Is that how you felt as a padawan?" There was a note of hurt in his voice, surprising Obi-Wan, and he considered his answer carefully.

"Not usually. Only occasionally, around people like her."

"I never liked her."

Obi-Wan sat up. "Really?"

But Qui-Gon offered no clarification, so Obi-Wan reclasped his pants, and offered his elbow for Qui-Gon to help him up. Qui-Gon could be vague about the strangest things, and there was never any use pushing him. Twelve years together; Obi-Wan had learned he'd never breach all of Qui-Gon's private thoughts.

"They keep theirs shorn close to the scalp under their headwear, as proof of their rejection of shallow carnal pleasures."

"So when the aide caught a glimpse of yours..."

"It did little to assure them of my virtue."

Obi-Wan chuckled, as he finished rearranging his pieces. "Your turn."

Qui-Gon put down the hairbrush and returned to his chair, giving the board a quick scan before he rolled the chance cubes. He reached to move a marker, but Obi-Wan caught his hand.

"Stop cheating. Roll again, and then keep your hands on the table."

"I would never-"

"You would and you frequently do."

Qui-Gon smiled as he rolled. After a pointed pause, he let go of the table and reached for a card from the pile. "I am glad you didn't choose to mend on Coruscant."

"How often do I have accidents so neatly timed to my master's probation periods?"

That earned him a long look. "I am not on probation. I am on vacation."

Obi-Wan simply laughed aloud. "A vacation on which it was suggested you meditate on the importance of following a Council-dictated mandate."

"If they were serious, Obi-Wan, do you think they would have given me time off with you?"

"If they were serious, they would give you time off with no one *but* me. You don't change, Master."

"I have changed a great deal," Qui-Gon replied, disdainfully. "When I was your age, I followed the advice of the Council and I attempted leaps I wasn't truly capable of. Now I exercise judgement about both Council wisdom and the distance between buildings." A smug wave at the playing board. "You neglected your defence in the red quadrant, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan rubbed his leg. "It wasn't the distance. It was the moss on the other roof. And my defence is thin because I'm about to remove you from the board." He rolled a blue, and proceeded to shift all his pieces into Qui-Gon's squares, winning the game.

"Garchtis."

Obi-Wan stopped, and looked at him.

"There is nothing in the Jedi Code about swearing, Obi-Wan."

With a long-suffering sigh, Obi-Wan shook his head. "One day, you will conduct yourself with the dignity appropriate to a master of your standing."

"I let you be dignified enough for the both of us."

"Of course." Obi-Wan stared at the board a moment, and then began to sort the pieces into the game container.

"Obi-Wan? That was a compliment."

"I know."

"Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked up to give Qui-Gon a smile. "I know."

Obi-Wan was regretting the daily improvement in his leg. How did he forget the comfort, the happiness of being with Qui-Gon? Even their most inane conversations and the long silences in between were a pleasure. It was much like his padawan days, but different, more intimate. He'd thought Qui-Gon more friend than master in his last years of apprenticeship, but now there was something deeper. Now they were old friends.

They'd picked apart every mission they'd taken in the five years since Obi-Wan was knighted, reargued the missions from when Obi-Wan was a padawan, talked about childhood beliefs and dreams. So many things Padawan Kenobi hadn't known about Master Jinn, how he'd followed the code to obsession as a young knight, even falling out with a then-renegade Padawan Windu. How deep his initial reservations about taking a padawan had been, the conflicts he'd had with the council over Obi-Wan's own training.

Qui-Gon explained the mission that led to his enforced vacation, and Obi-Wan knew he shouldn't have been surprised that Qui-Gon was eager for Obi-Wan's criticisms, but he was. Not so surprised as he was to find himself agreeing with much of Qui-Gon's actions.

Finally Obi-Wan talked about the night he'd caught Jaysa, her shrugging dismissal as he lost what he'd assumed was for life. "Perhaps she's right. Jedi life isn't suited for lifetime commitments."

"I don't believe that."

They were sitting on Obi-Wan's bed, leaning against the wall, arms and legs touching. It was scarily comforting, especially when Qui-Gon's hand occasionally brushed his own. "You never found anyone."

There was a long pause, and he could hear a swallow. "I haven't given up."

"Who are you looking for?"

"The person I want to be old with."

Obi-Wan had never imagined Qui-Gon growing old with anyone. He was fiercely independent. There had been a few brief relationships when Obi-Wan was his padawan, friends who were sometimes-lovers, but always there would be a new mission before it could evolve to something deeper, and Qui-Gon had never seemed to mind.

The crisp chill of morning lingered in the air, raising goosebumps as they rested on a chair by the path. Obi-Wan's leg was aching, unhappy at being forced to work without crutches. Another walk, another talk, more painful honesty, and Obi-Wan didn't know what Qui-Gon was doing to drag so many truths from him.

"I wasn't much of a partner," Obi-Wan admitted, quietly. "Too cold."

"You're not cold."

"Aren't I?" He rubbed his leg. "You know I'm not the warmest person in the Republic."

"I don't find you cold at all."

It meant a surprising amount, and Obi-Wan smiled. "You are my master."

"And I know you better than anyone, and my word should mean more than hers, whatever she has told you."

Old loyalty protested, to hear Qui-Gon speak that way of the woman Obi-Wan had loved for five years. "She was always more honest with my faults."

"You think I tell you lies, Obi-Wan?" There was an edge of anger in his voice, that made Obi-Wan pull back.

"I didn't say-"

"Did she find warmth in the arms of those whores?"

Obi-Wan's jaw tightened, hurt that Qui-Gon would be so blunt. "She found passion, at least."

"Obi-Wan, you're one of the most passionate people I know."

"Me?"

"Five nights without sleep researching Malek law to protect the elected government. The factions of Dulledin drawn together by the finest speech I have heard in sixty years of politics. A man whose dedication to the Light strengthened my own."

Obi-Wan looked down, touched. "Not the sort of passion to hold a lover."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "Obi-Wan, the only thing wrong with you is that you've always searched for lovers who would change you. You never liked Jaysa, you only wanted to be like her."

Apparently Qui-Gon could be honest too. And unfair. "Is it so bad to want to be well-liked?"

"You would do better to find a lover that could be held by the passion you have." Qui-Gon was leaning in, and Obi-Wan didn't understand why until he felt lips brush softly against his own, fingers under his jaw and fingers at his temple and a prickle of moustache on his mouth.

"Master?"

A rush of hot breath on his face, and Qui-Gon rolled his lips. "That is not the response I hoped for."

Qui-Gon had kissed him. Memories were shuffled through Obi-Wan's mind, sorted and reexamined, as heavy fingers lingered on his cheek. Qui-Gon's soft eyes were perfectly patient, not a shred of the fear Obi-Wan would have felt at making such a confession. "I never considered-"

"Perhaps you should." A kiss pressed to his forehead, and Qui-Gon caught up his cloak as he left.

"Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon didn't stand or turn, simply tipped his head back a little. "Obi-Wan. The sun is warm. Take off your boots. Join me." His legs were stretched in front of him, and he pointed his toes towards the still lake waters to emphasise the benefit.

Obi-Wan hobbled forward over the rough ground, catching the edge of Qui-Gon's wicked smile. He shifted down to sit beside him on the grass and kicked off one boot, working awkwardly to reach the boot on his injured leg until Qui-Gon took over, pulled it off and dropped it aside.

"The sun is always pleasant here in the later afternoon; I came here every day before you arrived."

"Are you in love with me?"

A slight, vague smile at Obi-Wan's directness, but Qui-Gon kept his gaze on the water. "Yes."

"How long?"

"I don't know." He leaned forward, running his hands down his legs to his toes, holding the stretch. "You were twenty-two when you went undercover at the student protests; I must have realised not long before that."

Years. All the way back to his padawan days. "You never told me."

"You had a shrewish woman who was utterly wrong for you. It wasn't my place to interfere." Another minute, and then he slowly sat up, rolling his shoulders. "This doesn't sound like acceptance."

"Qui-Gon, I don't..."

"Understand? Care? Want me?" Lightly asked, but Obi-Wan thought he heard something behind it.

"I don't think you want me."

"I'm sure I do."

"You don't... Oh, this is ridiculous."

Obi-Wan began to stand but Qui-Gon tugged him down. "Talk to me, as a lover or a master or a friend. Whoever it is you need."

A circle of ripples opened in the water from a fish already gone. Qui-Gon had seen him through a hundred adolescent embarrassments, was the one person Obi-Wan knew would never judge him. He drew up his good leg, turned his face away and rested it on his knee, knowing Qui-Gon would allow him this childish dignity, at least. "I'm not a grand lover, Qui-Gon. I'm not even average. I wouldn't have blamed Jaysa for those men - I didn't leave her for that - if it wasn't for the unnecessary honesty afterwards."

"You have... a medical problem?"

If only. "I just... don't care for it. I don't understand it. I don't miss it at all."

That was met with the predictable silence, until Qui-Gon managed a hesitant, "Obi-Wan..."

"I still remember our talk when I turned fifteen, word for word. I was old enough to explore this wonderful new life, I was so very lucky to reach this stage, to find this new level of relationship with other people, with the Force."

"And you didn't."

"Some people don't, I suppose. None of my lovers ever looked like yours did, the morning after."

"I want to make a suggestive remark about putting that look on your face, but I don't suppose that would help, just now."

Obi-Wan lifted his head to glare at Qui-Gon, who at least had the grace to swallow his smile. He shifted to face Obi-Wan better, caressed his cheek. "My Obi-Wan, do you know when I feel closest to the Force? I am sitting here, between missions, talking to you about things that matter. There is nothing but you and me, and I feel that I could close my eyes and the Force would hold this moment. I've never felt that with any lover."

Obi-Wan's breath stilled. "I do love you, Qui-Gon."

"Then trust me with the things that scare you."

It sounded so neat and simple like that, but Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's not about fear, Qui-Gon. I simply don't have it to give. I can survive her disappointment. I couldn't survive yours."

"Is that why you chose her?"

And the spell was broken. "You are full of opinions today," Obi-Wan snapped.

"And you haven't an answer for anything," came the angry reply. "I stood by, watching you choose to be miserable for years. I want you to be happy."

"And you have decided what I need, as though I am thirteen years old again?"

"Obi-Wan-" Frustration, but he bit off the word and took a long breath as his face softened into apology. "Forgive me. You know how I am when I let fear guide me. I feel that if I don't win you now, I'll lose you to another Jaysa. You're happier with me than you ever were with her, happier, I think, than when we're apart." Fingers grazed Obi-Wan's knee. "Sex is... I want to have sex with you, Obi-Wan. I won't tell you I haven't devoted a great deal of thought to the subject. I have every intention of proving that you've only been doing it with the wrong people, but more than that I want to come home from missions to a room filled with you. I miss that."

All the times they'd talked, about everything - so Obi-Wan thought. He hadn't known Qui-Gon at all. "You're afraid?"

A soft, nervous chuckle, as Qui-Gon's intense gaze dropped to the hand on Obi-Wan's knee. "If you don't want to disappoint me, Obi-Wan, imagine my fear of disappointing you."

"You could never-"

"*You* could never."

And that was true. And it was true that right through his strained relationship with Jaysa, Obi-Wan had longed for their shared quarters, the simple comfort of Qui-Gon's company.

He reached to take Qui-Gon's hand in his own. Huge, with heavy knuckles, rough skin. On a cruel man, these would be terrible hands. On a careless one, they would be ugly. Yet this was the only man from whom Obi-Wan had ever welcomed physical affection, the one person Obi-Wan had ever trusted. "I can't say I wouldn't like to grow old with you, but I don't know that I can make you happy."

A smile so relieved it almost hurt to see, and Obi-Wan felt a flare of panic that Qui-Gon had heard a greater commitment than had been given. "You made me happy for twelve years, Obi-Wan."

Such a familiar face: all the contours, the line of his beard, the colours in his eyes, but Obi-Wan had looked at that mouth and considered those lips for kissing. He braced himself, but Qui-Gon searched his face a moment longer and turned back to the lake.

Somehow, it was settled, though Obi-Wan had never actually agreed, and there was no kiss, and Obi-Wan didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed.

There wasn't another word as the afternoon trailed off, until Qui-Gon suddenly shifted and stood. "I shouldn't be letting you sit on this cold ground with that leg." He pulled on his boots, took care of Obi-Wan's bad leg while Obi-Wan shod the good. He stood and offered a hand to pull Obi-Wan to his feet, steadying him, but the hands on his shoulders weren't just steadying him, they were pulling him closer. He tipped back his head and closed his eyes, felt bristles on his lip before the soft dry press of Qui-Gon's mouth, gentle movements but no deeper, and then it faded away and a forehead pressed to his own. "Surely it is not as bad as that."

Obi-Wan flushed, ashamed. There was humour in Qui-Gon's voice, but his distance must have hurt. "I'm sorry."

"If I promise no sex tonight, will that make this easier?"

Obi-Wan hadn't realised how tense he was until those words released him; he opened his eyes to see Qui-Gon awaiting his answer, so he pulled him down to kiss again, kept his eyes wide, let his lips part a little, dragged it out, and when he pulled back to see Qui-Gon's eyelashes fluttering, the pleasure on his face, it made Obi-Wan's belly tingle.

Hands slid into his hair, tipping his head back, thumbs rubbing deliciously at the hard muscles below his ears. "I have a great deal of patience."

Obi-Wan woke, constricted. Qui-Gon was curled behind him, heavy arms wrapped around Obi-Wan's body, pinning his arms to his sides, stifling. It was still heavy night outside the window, promising a long wait for Qui-Gon to stir.

Obi-Wan wriggled, and Qui-Gon's arm drew him closer, and an erection prodded Obi-Wan's rear.

They would have to deal with that today. Obi-Wan wanted to pull away and find his own space to meditate, or maybe shower away the night sweat and then meditate. Or maybe just get it over with, do this for Qui-Gon and they could go back to the wonderful conversations of yesterday.

He shifted his hips, felt Qui-Gon curl his groin tighter against him. With a little persistence, Obi-Wan slid down this time, slowly, and Qui-Gon let him go; he twisted and there was his goal, thick and dark, and Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment to worry where Qui-Gon might want to put this sometime in the future, and his buttocks clenched. Still. Later.

He nudged Qui-Gon's top thigh back, parting his legs for access, slid his hand down to lightly encircle the base and took the bold head in his mouth, sucking gently. Not so bad. Qui-Gon groaned, pushing forward and Obi-Wan held, letting him go deeper. Cautious licks, suck a little harder, "Obi-Wan-" moaned above him and a hand tangled in his hair, not pushing but constricting. Obi-Wan gathered himself, pushing a little further, calculating how to make this quick. "Obi-Wan, so good..." Sleepy and aroused, and Obi-Wan had to admit he liked the sound.

Suddenly he was being pulled up, to find Qui-Gon wide awake and searching his face, nudging up his chin when Obi-Wan looked away. "Obi-Wan, are you enjoying this?"

"Of course." Obi-Wan reconsidered at Qui-Gon's tight _expression. "No."

"Don't do that."

This was the horrid awkwardness of sex, and Obi-Wan loathed it, loathed that it would touch his time with Qui-Gon. He should never have agreed to any of this. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want this, Obi-Wan. Why do you think I would want this?"

Obi-Wan pushed out of bed, snatching the sheet to clutch around his waist. "Isn't this what it's all about? We share our lives, a little mutual gratification..."

"If I wanted a servicing, Obi-Wan, I could have paid a whore."

Obi-Wan stared in disbelief. That was... He dropped the sheet and snatched up his pants, caught Qui-Gon's wince and knew the taunt was unintended but by all the Force, it hurt.

"Obi-Wan, I didn't..." Voice gentle now, pleading. "Is that what you think love is?"

"Of course not." Obi-Wan searched about for his tunic.

"I'll live in chastity all our lives sooner than I will have your obligation."

"Chastity is underrated."

That was met with silence. Qui-Gon was stroking the blanket with his fingers, staring down hard. Obi-Wan was inflicting plenty of hurts of his own.

He forced himself to come back, settled on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon."

One hand moved to Obi-Wan's knee, and finally Qui-Gon looked up again, hurt banked slightly. "Come back to bed. Let me show you. Nothing you don't like."

He didn't like everything, but Qui-Gon was begging his trust, so Obi-Wan pulled off his pants and climbed back in. Accepted and returned the chaste kiss, pulling Qui-Gon back when he began to withdraw, just to show that Qui-Gon had won him on kissing, at least.

When he let go, Qui-Gon was smiling again. He guided Obi-Wan to lie on his stomach, swinging one leg over his thighs and a moment later liquid pooled on Obi-Wan's back, and large heavy hands were spreading it over his body, up to his shoulders and neck, down to his buttocks, lightly at first, and then wide, firm strokes that pushed a sigh of satisfaction from Obi-Wan's lungs.

He'd only had this a few times when he was an apprentice; a special treat when he'd worked particularly, painfully hard to perfect a new physical skill, and once in the middle of a difficult stretch of senior studies. Qui-Gon's massages were utterly, unbearably good. His big hands could wring the tension from your body for hours.

Already, Obi-Wan's blood was itching to his skin under Qui-Gon's firm strokes, and it was an effort not to squirm. Weight on the ball of palms, driving up either side of his spine, and Obi-Wan hummed, and he knew that Qui-Gon smiled. The same again, pushing his body into the mattress and stretching all the tiny bones in his back, then one shoulder taken in those great hands, rolled and twisted and compressed and rolled again, cracking and loosening joints until Obi-Wan could no longer control his fingers, and then the other shoulder was taken into care and Obi-Wan simply lay, face mushed into the bed, barely managing the occasional happy moan.

A pause, eventually, sometime... later, the bed shifting as Qui-Gon's hands weighed on either side of Obi-Wan's head, Qui-Gon leaning over him, a kiss to his exposed cheek that was more bristles than lips. "This is sex, Obi-Wan." Rumbling, warm voice. "My pleasure in your body, my pleasure in your pleasure. It isn't mutual gratification if we have to take turns."

And then he moved back, and those fingers were working at the hard places in Obi-Wan's neck, digging into the cords below his ears, thumbs grinding at the muscles that joined neck to shoulders. Obi-Wan grunted.

"You have a beautiful neck, Obi-Wan. I love this mole." A finger brushed just below the collar line. "I stand behind you sometimes, wanting to slip up your hair and bite this line beneath, just a nip to taste your sweat. I get hard, thinking about your neck."

Obi-Wan was hard, shaft pressed into the mattress, pressed harder as Qui-Gon sat back on his thighs and set to work on his lower back.

"Are you hard?"

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Yes."

"So you do like sex. You just need it to be good sex." Thumbs pressing hard circles in the tender line just above his buttocks, and it felt too good to insist that there was a yawning chasm of difference between the pleasure of a massage and the awkward tussle for climax.

This much he'd had with Jaysa: he'd explored her body devotedly, surprised that the beautiful, popular daughter of the Nimaarian diplomat was taken with a particularly dour padawan. He'd done his best to please her, to impress her, but soon he bored her, just as her touches bored him, and it just became a chore he did poorly at. Obi-Wan knew he was an excellent Jedi, a formidable fighter, a quick mind with the potential to be as wise as his master, a good man. Every person had their shortcomings: Obi-Wan's was more personal than most, and in that it was a blessing as much as anything.

"Are you still here?"

Pulled back to the present, in a body so relaxed he barely seemed to be in it. With effort, he rolled onto his back. "That was good."

Qui-Gon looked pleased with himself, and even more pleased at Obi-Wan's bared arousal. "I wouldn't like to brag, Obi-Wan, but that looks like satiation."

The moment was good, and Qui-Gon's face was so dear at that moment. Obi-Wan reached out his arms. "Kiss me."

Pulled into a strong embrace and Qui-Gon was kissing him lustily, slowly leaning over and pressing him back into the bed. Anxieties aside, it felt good to be desired like this. He'd forgotten that tucked in with the embarrassment and the fear of disappointing was a warming pleasure, just to discover someone could want to touch him.

"Do you like to pleasure yourself, Obi-Wan?"

"Of course." Not as often as others, perhaps, but-

"Do it."

"What?"

Qui-Gon pushed up on one elbow. "Pleasure yourself. Let me watch."

Obi-Wan felt the blood creep to his cheeks, but he wrapped his hand awkwardly around his shaft, slipped his fingers lightly along the length a couple of times. He was sprawled on his back; Qui-Gon pushed his knees a little wider and rested one hand on his inner thigh, watching eagerly. Disconcertingly.

Obi-Wan tightened his hand, and stopped. "The oil?"

A flash in Qui-Gon's eyes, and he reached over Obi-Wan's body for the bottle, tipped it generously over Obi-Wan's genitals, let it pour between his legs and over the sheets, and Obi-Wan tightened his hand on his slick length and pumped slowly, closing his eyes to concentrate. Qui-Gon's gaze was more distracting than arousing. He sighed, this was good, he knew what he liked and there was no pressure, no demand. He slid his hand low and squeezed his balls, gave them a little pull and then up his shaft again, from root to tip, sometimes pausing to rub the sweet places on the head between his fingers. The oil was slick and warm, made smacking sounds as his hand moved and Qui-Gon was rubbing his thigh, drawing the hot tingle down his leg. It was good, it was building, Obi-Wan reached to stretch his balls again and when he returned to his length, Qui-Gon's hand slid up his thigh and held his balls, cupping and stroking and pulling just enough to stretch, and that was good and a groan escaped his chest, and he pulled a little harder on his swollen cock, tugging it and pinching the head, rolling his hips and loving the weight on his balls, and there was a soft noise from Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan's knee was being pushed; he was rolled onto his side and Qui-Gon was spooned up behind him, kissing the join of neck to shoulder, and Qui-Gon's shaft slid between Obi-Wan's legs, Qui-Gon's hand pushed down to hold them tight together, Qui-Gon's breath was in Obi-Wan's ear for a few moments before he managed, hesitantly, "Is this all right, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan pushed back; Qui-Gon's cock was nudging at his balls, and Qui-Gon was curled up around him, needing and wanting but not quite demanding, and Obi-Wan tried to consider but realised the worst thing that could happen right now would be to lose this strength around him, and the best thing would be if he caught Qui-Gon's hand, and he did, and pulled it over his thigh to his balls again, and Qui-Gon knew just how to pull as Obi-Wan stroked his shaft and squirmed on Qui-Gon's, and Qui-Gon was thrusting against him, making tiny sweet noises of pleasure, head pushed into Obi-Wan's neck.

"Faster, Obi-Wan, I want you to come." Strained words, they made Obi-Wan's cock strain to hear his master so needful - for Obi-Wan - he thrust harder and Qui-Gon's hand loosened as Qui-Gon stiffened behind him, silent and then a long, low groan that seemed to come from his groin, and then hot liquid against Obi-Wan's balls and only one more thrust had him grunt and sweet, hot pleasure wrapped his balls and rushed through his cock.

Force knew how long later, Obi-Wan was sprawled, panting, feeling better than... than he ever had in bed with anyone sprawled across him. For a few moments he didn't even mind the sweaty weight, and when he did it only took a little nudge for Qui-Gon to flop back with a loud sigh.

Obi-Wan grinned. "That wasn't so bad."

He was rewarded with a chuckle that vibrated right through the bed. "Not so bad." Sleepy, languorous voice, warm and delicious. "Sleep, Obi-Wan, we have nowhere to be."

Obi-Wan slid from the bed, waving away Qui-Gon's curiosity, to fetch a cloth and wipe away the worst of the mess, returning to curl up away from the oil puddle in the centre of the bed.

And he slept.

Obi-Wan stretched his spine with a long, slow-drawn breath, and then curled tighter around the pillow. He felt good, more relaxed than he could remember being in a long time, muscles still soft and warm from the midnight massage. And the rest.

He opened his eyes to an empty bed, covers thrown back on Qui-Gon's side. It was quiet. Obi-Wan rolled onto his back and looked about; he was alone. It was ridiculous, of course, to imagine Qui-Gon would leave in disappointment. It was only just creeping into dawn, though, and Qui-Gon tended not to be an early riser. Obi-Wan enjoyed last night; Qui-Gon had seemed to, but... Obi-Wan had done nothing in return.

The door creaked, and Obi-Wan sat up as Qui-Gon strolled in. "I thought you would be awake soon." Qui-Gon lifted the lights to low, fishing a small breakfast cake from the box he'd brought and leaning over to press it to Obi-Wan's lips. He sat on the edge of the bed as Obi-Wan chewed and swallowed, and then leaned in for a long, buttery kiss.

Eventually he drew back with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Stubble."

"You went to fetch breakfast?"

Two raised eyebrows. "Where else would I go?"

"I didn't think of that." Obi-Wan took the box from Qui-Gon's lap and rummaged through, pulling out a tall cup of milk and a warm bag that felt like a heated bread roll. He ignored the curious gaze until a hand touched his knee, and then he spoke before Qui-Gon could ask. "So what will happen now? We see each other twice a year, drift apart until eventually I find you with a couple of pleasure boys?"

"Don't even joke about that, Obi-Wan. I have had years to earn your trust." His voice was sharp.

"Years with me as a companion and student, not a poor excuse for a lover," Obi-Wan replied, lightly. It was too early for this, but the words spilled forth anyway. He lifted the cup to drink but his elbow was caught in a strong grip.

"Would you truly excuse a betrayal from me?"

Obi-Wan's mouth opened and closed. Would he? If he began to suspect Qui-Gon's fidelity, would he stay quiet? Would he make a point of always calling ahead to say he was coming home? If Qui-Gon spat the same poisonous words as Jaysa had, in front of people he'd paid to do what Obi-Wan couldn't, would Obi-Wan stand for it?

"You would not do that."

"If I did?"

"I would tear pieces from you." Bitter anger in the words, and Obi-Wan was surprised to realise there was fury stirring in his belly.

Qui-Gon's eyes sparked. "Why?"

"Why? Do you know how it felt?" He dumped the breakfast on the side table. "I'd had a good day. She didn't even notice me at first. I never pulled those sounds from her. I never... like that. Sex was chore enough without turning it into a performance. And I couldn't say a word, because I could hardly blame her."

"But if it was me, you would blame me?"

If it was Qui-Gon... Obi-Wan saw that indifference on Qui-Gon's face, and the image choked him. "You know me. You know I'm a good man." Even in anger, he couldn't keep the pleading tone from his voice. "You know how much it would hurt me, even if I didn't show it. You know-" Out of breath, out of voice, "You know me."

A thumb wiped his cheek. "I do know you, Obi-Wan."

"She didn't know me at all. You blame her, but she didn't know me at all."

"Five years, and you think she didn't know it would hurt you?"

Her voice echoed, words forgotten but the emotions as sharp as a blade. "Perhaps she was trying to find out." Qui-Gon's gaze was sad, so Obi-Wan stared at his shoulder. "What place do I have to blame her when I held myself from her?" He shook his head. "But you know me. If you ask me for this, and then change your mind, I'll never forgive you."

"Good." Grim satisfaction, that suddenly had Obi-Wan smiling.

He pulled Qui-Gon into his arms and lay back, and Qui-Gon shifted until he found a place that seemed to fit, stretched across Obi-Wan's body, head on his shoulder, hair tangled across his neck.

"I know it is difficult, Obi-Wan, but I need you to trust me. That means everything to me."

Obi-Wan lifted the hair from his neck, somehow began stroking, and a sigh pressed Qui-Gon's body to his own.

"You have been attracted to me since I was twenty-two?"

"I loved you since you were twenty-two. I desired you much longer than that."

"Why?"

Qui-Gon began to rise, but Obi-Wan squeezed tighter and he settled. "Why did I desire you?"

"Yes."

He took his time answering. "You are... full of confidence. I remember watching you spar with another boy - you were eighteen, perhaps a few months short-"

"Eighteen?"

"You thought you knew your serene master so well, didn't you?"

Obi-Wan tried not to imagine his master leering after the eighteen year old who privately found sex distasteful, and gave a moment to be glad he hadn't known at the time. "There seems to be a great deal I didn't know."

"Now you will." A broad palm patted his chest. "The fight was some terribly important competition the padawans had conjured. You fought beautifully, completely absorbed, sure of your body, sure of your skill. You beat him soundly, but afterwards you were too absorbed in congratulating him on a battle well-fought to notice the other padawans praising you. I watched you that day, and I thought, 'he would make an amazing lover.'"

"Last night must have been disappointing."

"No, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon rose on his elbow, reached to stroke his cheek, but Obi-Wan pulled the hand away, onto his chest.

"You were fantasising about a confident lover who would pull you into bed and ravish you, and then beg you to do the same in turn."

"You were fantasising never having to open to a lover again. Broken expectations can be a wonderful thing. You are a very different lover to what I expected, but if you must be coaxed, then I shall enjoy coaxing you, just as I enjoy arguing missions with you, and teaching you, and bringing you breakfast when you look tousled and sleepy and worried all at once." He smoothed Obi-Wan's hair. "I would like to be looked upon with lust, but I do not revolve around my cock. And I don't need you for the prestige of having a Jedi lover. I must be here for you."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, and closed it again. He loved this man. "So now... we become field partners?"

"If you are willing."

Willing? To have this life again? "We travel the galaxy, fighting evil, just like old times?"

Qui-Gon's broad hand slid over his throat, and around to the back of his neck. "Except that I am allowed to taste this mole, now and then."

"And you won't have the power to override me by calling me padawan."

A smile tugged the corner of Qui-Gon's lip. "Now I will have to find other methods of persuasion."

It was a smile that promised all sorts of things, and it didn't inspire anywhere near the fear it might have yesterday. He wasn't exactly anxious to encourage it, but the fear was fading. "Wonderful. You will teach me to love sex, and then you will grow old and lose interest."

"You think I can teach you to love sex?"

Obi-Wan leaned forward to take a kiss. "I will let you try."

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