Why Now?

by Inya Dreems

Title: Why Now?
Author: Inya Dreems (padawan.inya@tiscali.co.uk)
Archive: MA, or ask me
Category: Q/O, First-Time, Angst
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Their first time, but Qui-Gon knows what's coming.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to George Lucas, not me.
Unfortunately.
Feedback: Yes please
Note: Bonny does a brilliant beta! Mistakes are still mine. Written as a JediSanta gift for huaipanda.

Qui-Gon had known for a long time that he would not be there to see his padawan knighted. His visions of the future, although infrequent, had always been accurate. From very early in their relationship he had seen his future self with Obi-Wan: a youngster trying hard to please; a gangly youth all arms and legs and enthusiasm; a maturing young man becoming confident in his own abilities; an adult on the verge of knighthood. But the Obi-Wan in his visions always wore the braid.

When Qui-Gon was young, Master Dooku had often reproached him for dwelling on what the visions might mean. "They mean nothing! They are shadows, possibilities only. You would do well to give your attention to the void in your knowledge of the present before you concern yourself with the future." Qui-Gon had bowed respectfully and stopped mentioning his ability, even when he knew before they left for Raskh that old Master HutulPol would not be there to continue his language instruction when they returned, or that he would never again see the new Omwat padawan leaving on her first mission with her master.

The realisation dawned gradually, but with certainty, and he believed that his acknowledgement of his fate was complete. Everyone becomes one with the Force at some time. He accepted that, or so he thought. It wasn't until Obi-Wan was a young man - a very handsome and desirable young man - that Qui-Gon began to be troubled. He told himself that his worries were understandable because his allotted time was nearing its close, and that it was nothing to do with the fact that he had fallen in love with his very attractive padawan. Or that his padawan returned that love.

Keeping such feelings secret from one another would have been almost impossible, and even if they tried, the barriers created would have been as obvious. Once he had recovered from his surprise that Obi-Wan would consider his old master not only attractive but worthy of love, Qui-Gon began to wonder what were his padawan's expectations of this prospective relationship. They both knew that there was no possibility of their becoming intimate while still master and padawan. Obviously, Obi-Wan was being his usual dutiful and conscientious self, waiting until he was knighted before acting. How could he tell him?

Qui-Gon's meditation sessions before each new mission became more and more focused on the prospects of his own survival, however much he tried to channel his thoughts away from the inevitable. Would it be this time? He allowed the visions to come to him: Obi-Wan returning home exhausted... Himself, following his padawan down the ramp from the ship. He was shocked and a little angry at himself for the intensity of relief he felt each time he knew that he would not die just yet; that he would have a little more time with Obi-Wan. Then the next mission was assigned, and the one after that, until his focus on his own mortality bordered on obsession.

The eve of the mission to Naboo saw him in his simple room kneeling by the light of a single candle. After only a short time he reached to snuff out the candle and remained kneeling in stillness and darkness.

Events seemed to be racing out of control. For a brief moment, Qui-Gon had believed that he would meet his end in the sands of Tatooine, defeated by the devil-faced being with lightsabre skills that would best most Jedi that Qui-Gon knew. Obi-Wan's quick-thinking had saved him, enabling him to leap out of reach of the murderously Dark fury just before exhaustion overtook him.

Resting in his bunk during the return to Naboo, Qui-Gon allowed himself a little hope. Perhaps Obi-Wan's action had diverted the mission from the outcome Qui-Gon had expected. He stared at the blank ceiling, lit only by a narrow crack of light from under the door and sighed in resignation. No, his visions had never been wrong. His thoughts were interrupted by his rescuer's quiet voice in the cabin's gloom. "Are you going to tell me now?"

Qui-Gon didn't pretend to misunderstand. He had shielded his concerns from his apprentice and it had been optimistic in the extreme to believe that Obi-Wan would not notice, or having noticed would not bring the subject up. Then there was his own impulsive behaviour over the frighteningly Force-strong boy from the desert planet. Obi-Wan's anger at his master's sudden attempt to overcome the Council's rejection had been obvious.

"I am concerned about this mission. Your "bad feeling" is becoming infectious," Qui-Gon answered.

"It's not just this mission, though, is it Master? Your concerns have been building for a long time now." Obi-Wan paused, hesitant to bring up what was on his mind.

"It's not you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon reached across the small space between the bunks and Obi-Wan's hand unerringly clasped his. "I have no doubts about you. You are near knighthood. I meant what I said to the Council, though events did rather force my hand."

"Then is it... Qui-Gon, you know how I feel. Is it that you think we must part after I am knighted? Because I had hoped that we would remain together, at least when missions allow."

Not normally one prone to self-pity, the unfairness of his situation felt like a weight in Qui-Gon's chest. A lifetime of service to the Jedi had seemed like enough. He had loved before and had been able to let go and move on, to avoid the messy entanglements that intimate relationships bring. He thought of Obi-Wan in the future: a knight, probably a master soon. Yes, if his vision was accurate it was likely that Obi-Wan himself would have to ensure that the boy Anakin was trained. He would make a good job of it; he would grieve and then he would go on with his life without Qui-Gon.

"Master?" Obi-Wan whispered.

"No, it's not that either," Qui-Gon answered at last, suddenly angry with the future, with the Force for showing it to him and with himself for needing the love of this man so much. He felt cheated out of the life he should have had: a life with a loving companion. He rolled to a kneeling position between the bunks so that he could cup Obi-Wan's face in his hands, feeling Obi-Wan's shocked surprise as he leaned forward and kissed him.

It had been a long time since Qui-Gon had kissed anyone but any initial uncertainty was dispelled when Obi-Wan responded enthusiastically, kissing him back with obvious delight. The simple desire to be close to Obi-Wan, to taste him at last, grew into an aching need and he wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

The two Jedi were wearing undertunics and pants and suddenly that was far too many clothes. Qui-Gon ran a hand over the well-worn fabric feeling the taut muscles of shoulder and back underneath, slipping his fingers inside the tunic to touch warm skin. There was no need for permission. The awareness of each other's desire was unmistakable and intensely arousing, feeding back, growing, becoming uncontrollable. Qui-Gon's clothes were being tugged ferociously but in the narrow space, ineffectively. He broke away and stood, swiftly stripping himself and smiled as Obi-Wan wriggled out of his own sleep clothing on the bunk.

"There's not much room..." Obi-Wan said quietly.

"We'll manage." Qui-Gon gazed hungrily at the nude form, pale skin visible in the dim light. He had seen Obi-Wan naked many times, but never like this: stretched out before him like a Bakwe pleasure boy waiting to be taken, an impressively erect cock standing proud. His lover, at last, but the knowledge that this would probably be their only time together crept into his mind, tainting the rightness of the moment. Obi-Wan's eyes flashed in impatience, then he held out his arms in invitation and Qui-Gon banished thoughts of mortality. Live in the moment, he told himself and knelt on the bunk, legs astride Obi-Wan, bending to kiss him again.

As they kissed deeply and thoroughly, Obi-Wan was making a delicious groaning noise deep in his throat as his hips underneath Qui-Gon's were moving, his hands grasping tightly on Qui-Gon's buttocks. Obi-Wan broke away from the kiss panting and Qui-Gon thought that this face in passion was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. "We need… something! Lube. What can we use?" Obi-Wan said breathlessly.

Lifting a hand, Qui-Gon called the travel pack to him and leaned over to rummage through its contents, producing a tube of bacta gel. Raising himself up on his elbows, he said. "It won't do any harm," and flipped the lid to squeeze a generous amount onto his hands. Obi-Wan grinned, taking the tube and helping himself to the gel. Obi-Wan slid his slicked hands down to grasp Qui-Gon's erection, eliciting a gasp as the hands stroked and teased, sliding up and back, pulling the foreskin down and tracing the sensitive flesh beneath with a thumb.

"Gods, if you keep doing that I'm going to come now," Qui-Gon grated and pulled back to sit on Obi-Wan's thighs. A change of position was necessary and Qui-Gon shuffled until he was between Obi-Wan's legs, pushing them apart so he was able to return the treatment that he had been given. The strokes of Qui-Gon's hands on the hard cock and over tight balls made Obi-Wan shout out loud. Qui-Gon smiled. Conscious of the thinness of the walls and the way that sound carried around a ship, he said, "Shh. Everyone doesn't need to know what we're doing."

In answer, Obi-Wan glared at him, then pulled his knees up and apart, presenting himself for penetration. "Then get on with it, Master!"

"Give me that tube." Qui-Gon's voice was rough and his hands trembled slightly as he squeezed more gel out. He took a deep calming breath and reached to touch again, this time sliding a blunt finger lower until it was pressing against the tight opening. One finger slid in easily, and when another was added Obi-Wan's head went back and hips tilted upward, demanding more. Between gritted teeth, he whispered a pleading, "More, yes, yessss, more, please…"

Satisfied that his lover was ready, Qui-Gon positioned himself and pushed. He was large, and Obi-Wan was still tight even after preparation, so it took all of Qui-Gon's control to restrain from simply driving in and thrusting hard. Slowly, his cock filled Obi-Wan until it was completely inside and he stopped, breathing hard, feeling the delicious tightness, savouring the perfect moment. Despite Qui-Gon's earlier remonstration, Obi-Wan cried out, "Now! Give it to me!" and Qui-Gon pulled out a little to push back firmly. It was overwhelming. He began to thrust, gently at first then harder. Obi-Wan took hold of his own erection and pumped in time to the pounding Qui-Gon was giving him. Qui-Gon briefly remembered his inevitable destiny but released the anger and sorrow at parting from his new lover, giving it all up to the Force as his climax built, whole body tingling with amazing pleasure. His hips jerked savagely and he came hard, unable to prevent a loud groan. Obi-Wan arched his back, his body going rigid, waves of unshielded ecstasy surging from him as he swiftly followed.

Resting tightly wrapped together, inevitable in the small space available but terribly pleasant after a lifetime of sleeping apart, Qui-Gon's thoughts drifted. Despite his best efforts, his earlier anguish was creeping back. Why did they have to part now, having found each other? At any other time in his life, he would have been perfectly resigned to becoming one with the Force. Before Obi-Wan came along, it was something he had accepted as a possibility every time he left for a mission. Even later, when he knew that his remaining time was drawing short, he got on with business, not allowing himself to dwell on the inevitable. So why did the Force play the huge joke of giving him his life mate right at the end of that life?

It seemed as though Obi-Wan was asleep, but Qui-Gon knew better. He didn't have long to wait for the question. "Why now?"

"I couldn't keep my hands off you any longer."

Obi-Wan snorted, and persisted, "Right. But really," he turned his head to face Qui-Gon, "I was prepared to wait. Although I'm very glad we didn't! You never said anything before so I wasn't sure how you felt and I was prepared to wait until after I was knighted to find out. So why now?" he repeated.

The words echoed Qui-Gon's self-questioning, but without the hopelessness of his foresight. Wrapped in his lover's arms, physically sated but despairing, Qui-Gon made a vow to himself. There must be a way for them to be together, one way or another; in this corporeal existence or on another plane, they would be together.

"The moment seemed right, Obi-Wan. I love you." The words satisfied the young man who snuggled down against his master's chest and soon was soundly asleep. Sifting the silky hair through his fingers, Qui-Gon leaned forward and placed his lips against the crown of Obi-Wan's head. "The Force has willed it that I leave you," he whispered, "but I will find you again. I promise."

End