Archive: anywhere, just please keep my name, email address,
author's notes and disclaimer attached.
Category: Romance, Angst, POV = Obi-Wan
Rating: NC-17
Warning: This fanfic is slash. It contains reasonably explicit
m/m sex and masturbation. If that bothers you, don't read it.
But you're missing out. 8->
Spoilers: This is set post-PM and if you haven't seen the
movie, this story will probably ruin it for you.
Summary: Obi-Wan's stream of consciousness after the events
shown in TPM.
Feedback: yes, please!!
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money from this story. These
characters belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. And I'll sic
my precocious Padawan learner on anyone who tries to sue.
Author's Notes: I should say straight out that when it comes to
fanfic, I am more of a reader than a writer. If I could have
found myself some Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon slash in those first two
weeks after TPM opened, this thing would never have been
written. I was longing so desperately for some nice slashing of
the beautiful relationship between them sigh . . . that
I resorted to writing my own.
Great thanks be to Renee and Chad for beta-reading this thing
and thus being the coolest people alive. And thanks to my
Padawan for the insights on Jedi sex. I love you babe.
"But I can't go on without you," Obi-Wan said in his dream, and
awoke with the words on his lips.
Anakin had rolled over, that was why he had been awakened.
Obi-Wan sighed and turned onto his side.
Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan missed him. More than anything. More, even,
than he had thought he would. He spoke to Qui-Gon in his dreams
and relived watching Qui-Gon die in his nightmares. Relived
watching the black and red face of the Sith warrior, yellow
eyes aglow, bearing down on Qui-Gon with his cruelly
double-bladed red lightsaber. Relived watching said lightsaber
stab into the Jedi Master, cauterizing his flesh and burning
the life from him.
Obi-Wan rose silently, so as not to awaken his apprentice. He
went into the small adjoining room where there was a basin
filled with cold, clean water. In quick, repetitious gestures,
he splashed some on his face. Anakin had informed him, in a
conversational way, that he sometimes screamed in his sleep.
Obi-Wan hadn't known how much to tell his young Padawan about
what he and Qui-Gon had shared. He had decided to reveal
nothing. He was the Master now, and revealing or concealing
truths was his prerogative.
At its most basic level, their bond had been that of Jedi
master and apprentice. A friendship; Qui-Gon was his closest,
most intimate friend. Qui-Gon had also served as a parental
figure, guiding his apprentice. Yet the bond between Qui-Gon
and himself had been deeper, stronger, more special--love.
They were quite different, but were perfect for each other.
Their contrasting personalities balanced out well. The truth
was, Obi-Wan wasn't sure now if he wanted to live without his
Master in his life, or even if he could.
Stop it, he told himself sharply. This is getting you nowhere.
Get back to the task at hand. The task at hand, Obi-Wan
thought, turning away from the basin, was fulfilling his
promise. His last promise to Qui-Gon. Training Anakin.
I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon had told
him. He could even hear those words in his mind. Qui-Gon's
voice was deep and commanding, but his tones were kind, and he
generally spoke softly.
I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight. But Master, how
can I without you? Qui-Gon had been so wise, known so
much...Obi-Wan knew he was competent to train the boy, but he
did not feel up to the task. He might be a Jedi Knight and
Anakin's Master, but he did not feel like one at the moment.
The moment. The moment is important. Qui-Gon was always
concentrating on the moment. Obi-Wan absently reached up
and fingered the place behind his ear where he had severed his
Padawan's braid. He had done it over a month ago, staring into
the mirror, cutting carefully. He had burned the hair.
Losing his braid. Losing his apprenticeship, losing his Master.
Losing Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon Jinn. Even his name was beautiful. Obi-Wan closed his
eyes, conjuring up the countenance of his former master.
Master, and so much more. The wide, clear dark blue eyes, the
longish brown-grey hair and gentle smile. So beautiful, and
noble. Obi-Wan slumped against the wall as his tears began to
spill over his cheeks.
The Jedi recalled the last time they had made love. It was the
early morning of the day Qui-Gon was killed. Interesting,
Obi-Wan thought, that Qui-Gon had chosen that particular
morning...like most Jedi, they did not engage in sexual
gratification frequently or promiscuously. They indulged only
occasionally, as their full lives left little time for other
diversions, and Obi-Wan thought it odd that that morning had
been one of those occasions. Impossible that Qui-Gon could have
foreseen his own death, and yet, Qui-Gon himself had always
insisted that there were no coincidences. Nothing happens by
accident.
Obi-Wan had been lying in bed, drowsing, until his Master
stirred and rose. Following Qui-Gon's motions with his eyes,
Obi-Wan stretched and sat up, feeling the Force flow peacefully
through him.
"Go back to sleep, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon had told him softly. "It's
still early yet."
Obi-Wan did not voice the protest that rose immediately to his
lips, but obediently lay back down and closed his eyes.
Wondering if Qui-Gon would return, he drifted in and out of
sleep. After a few minutes, Obi-Wan felt the sleep-couch sink
with the return of his Master. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed and
did not move, but he could not ignore his Master's gentle
fingers twisting in his hair. Qui-Gon drew closer to his
apprentice, nestling against him. Obi-Wan smiled, feeling his
cock harden in anticipation. He opened his eyes when the Master
began to tease his nipples with his tongue and lips. Obi-Wan
writhed under the delicious examination of his Master's tongue;
he had very sensitive skin.
After a few moments, Obi-Wan could take no more. His nipples
were stiff with the stimulation and his cock was beginning to
ache with need. He suddenly rolled Qui-Gon onto his back and
settled himself on top of his Master. Obi-Wan delighted in the
sensation of Qui-Gon's cock pressing and throbbing against his
own. He leaned over his Master, who was merely lying still,
watching him. Obi-Wan stared into Qui-Gon's eyes as he rested
his crossed arms on his Master's chest.
For several minutes they lay like that, reveling in the feel of
each other.
As the Master brought his hands up to run his fingers lightly
through his apprentice's short light hair, he leaned in and
kissed Obi-Wan's lips. Obi-Wan twisted atop him, removing the
loose garment he always wore to bed. When he lay naked atop his
Master, Qui-Gon stopped him. The older man had always been far
more inclined than he was to proceed with sex slowly. It was
not his Master's age so much as it was his personality.
Qui-Gon eased out from under him, leaving Obi-Wan lying flat on
his back, completely naked. Obi-Wan stared at his Master as
Qui-Gon gazed at him, into his eyes lovingly and appraisingly
along his apprentice's slim, hard young body. Obi-Wan arched a
perfect eyebrow but lay without moving, unembarrassed by his
Master's stare. He felt utterly comfortable with this man.
After a moment Qui-Gon smiled at him. Kneeling over his
apprentice, he began to kiss his body. His thighs, his hands,
legs, nipples, balls, just gentle, persuasive kisses. Qui-Gon's
short, neatly trimmed beard was rough but soft enough to
tickle. At last he took Obi-Wan's cock into his mouth, rolling
the head gently between his lips, brushing it ever so carefully
with his teeth. Obi-Wan moaned, thrusting his hips slightly
upwards.
When his lust was nearing its peak, Obi-Wan reached down and
began to caress his Master's cock with his hand. Qui-Gon was
already reasonably hard, but his apprentice had always been
somewhat ambitious. Obi-Wan grinned, enjoying the sight of his
powerfully built Master stretched out, eyes closed, relaxed and
with his guard down. Enjoying the changes in Qui-Gon's
breathing as his apprentice held and stroked him. While he
rubbed Qui-Gon's cock, Obi-Wan used his other hand to play with
his Master's long, thick hair. He liked the way it looked when
it was down, luscious fluffy grey hair freed from the band that
constantly held it back. He idly wondered what his hair would
be like when he reached Qui-Gon's age. He hoped it would look
half so good. He examined the catlike features of his Master's
face--they went well with his greying mane.
Qui-Gon sighed with gratification. "I love you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan smiled. Turning over onto his stomach, he responded,
"Then take me, Master."
Obi-Wan's face pressed against the mattress as he waited. When
Qui-Gon began to fuck him, cock wet and slippery, he never
wanted to be anywhere else. The Jedi Master started off slowly,
tenderly, careful of his Padawan, but soon began to quicken
their pace. Damp with sweat, the younger Jedi shifted under his
Master. He liked making Qui-Gon burn with desire, liked making
him give up his iron sense of control to the feverish intensity
of their sex. Obi-Wan was nearing the brink, his erection
rock-hard and almost bursting, and Qui-Gon, he knew, was going
to do something about it. Obi-Wan smiled into the mattress, and
he knew Qui-Gon could feel it.
The young Jedi sighed with both pleasure and sorrow as he
remembered. He greatly missed feeling that warm, heavy body
over his, that slick cock rocking into him gently at first,
then thrusting into him faster, and harder. He never felt as
perfect as he did with Qui-Gon's penis inside him, filling him,
making him whole. The warmth in Qui-Gon's gaze, the passion in
his eyes, and the love.
Obi-Wan realized abruptly that he was rapidly becoming fully
erect. He freed his cock from his loose-fitting pants and
gripped it tightly. His penis was hard, his body slender but
well-muscled. As he stroked himself, he recalled how safe he'd
felt in his Master's arms. How good Qui-Gon's hand felt roaming
his body, memorizing all its lines and curves.
Qui-Gon had known instinctively how to build his Padawan up to
stunning sexual crescendos. Lost in memory, his hand still
working his erection, Obi-Wan turned his head to the side in
pain. Qui-Gon had been such a slow, deliberate, sensual lover.
How his Padawan had loved to push him past the point of calm
serenity and control to hungry desperation and hot, fierce sex.
How at the same time, Qui-Gon would tease his apprentice,
making Obi-Wan wait, mad with desire. Seeing to it that when he
came, his orgasm was lingering and impassioned.
Obi-Wan spasmed quickly into his hand; this orgasm was all too
brief and gave him little concupiscent satisfaction or
fulfillment. Opening his eyes, it occurred to him that even
with Anakin with him, he was completely lonely. Obi-Wan closed
his grey-blue eyes again as he leaned against the wall and wept
freely.
When he went back into the room and returned to the sleep
couch, he found Anakin awake and watching him. "Are you
alright?" whispered his charge.
Anakin, Obi-Wan thought somewhat bitterly, might be the Chosen
One, but he would never be Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan cared for the boy,
of course. In truth he had developed a strong affection for his
apprentice. It was hardly Anakin's fault that Qui-Gon's last
spoken thoughts had been of Anakin, that there had been no time
for anything...more. Obi-Wan was grateful that Qui-Gon had hung
on long enough for those last moments with him, for that last
touch...and to ask him to train the boy. After all, Qui-Gon did
believe him to be the Chosen One. Burdening him with the task
that Qui-Gon would have fulfilled himself was proof enough of
his Master's significant trust in Obi-Wan.
And he could still feel that last touch, as if it had burned
him like the red lightsaber had burned his Master. He could
feel all of Qui-Gon's love in that last touch, that fleeting
brush of fingers to cheek...
"Are you all right?" his apprentice said again.
Obi-Wan reopened his beautiful but haunted eyes, regarding his
charge with a heart filled with sadness and vague, elusive
feelings of fear.
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