Pilgrim Soul
MJ Lee (mj.lee@chello.se)
Archiving: Ask first please.
Rating: R
Feedback: Please?
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even my soul, it was sold long ago...
Notes: Well, this isn't exactly my usual fare. First of all it's not an AU
- exactly
Once again I have to thank Raven for wading through this, and not only eliminating all those Sithly commas and stuff, but also for some *very* necessary spatial corrections :-) Thank you also to the people on #tpm for listening patiently and offering great suggestions on everything from Mon Calamari boots to Horta sex. And of course, to the seriously squicked people on #senslash for offering reasons why different species can't have sex.
Warnings: Underage!Obi And some warm fuzziness be ahead.
Summary: Obi-Wan tires of waiting for Qui-Gon to do his masterly duty and takes things into his own hands, so to speak, with some help from good friends.
The Padawan Commons Room at the Coruscant Jedi Temple was a large airy and cheerful room. Scattered with the comfortable slightly shabby equivalent of chairs and sofas for a hundred different species, it was the perfect place to relax, chat with friends, catch up on happenings.
On this overcast, rainy afternoon it was only half-full. In one corner a spirited game of *cha'la* was holding four padawans spellbound. The Shistavenian growled his displeasure at the cards dealt him by the dealer, a twi'lek who tossed his lekku tentacles absently over his shoulder and hissed back. "Not my fault you play like a diseased bantha." The game seemed for a moment to be in danger of disintegrating as a volley of furious hissing, spitting and growling ensued. However, after the first startled glances, most padawans ignored the racket which ended, as everyone knew it would, in the two combatants roaring with laughter and falling, literally, into each others arms.
While most of the galaxy might believe that the Jedi were stone-faced unemotional automatons, dedicated only to the service of the Republic, Obi-Wan was all too aware of just how far from truth that image was.
After seeing two knights embrace passionately in the gardens, one picking the other up and dumping him in the pond, everything ending in a cacophony of laughter and kisses, and water, Obi-Wan had sought out his master, his 13-year old dignity newly troubled by the antics.
"Shouldn't the Jedi be... well, more solemn?" He'd asked.
Gently Qui-Gon had explained, "Mastery of emotions does not mean suppression of feeling. Why do we serve, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan had frowned, "Duty?"
"Most assuredly, but where does the duty spring from?"
That had silenced the boy for a long time, "From service to the Light?" Qui-Gon nodded, silently urging him on, "Because we have been chosen by the Force to serve." Again that nod, "Because... oh!" Crystal clear sea-colored eyes abruptly lit up. "Because of love."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Exactly. Love is what truly divides from those who follow the Dark Side," his face lost it's smile for a moment and Obi-Wan knew he was remembering his fallen apprentice, Xanatos. Then, obviously shaking the dark memories, Qui-Gon continued, "Love in all its forms is the greatest power in the galaxy. It is what binds us all together, what makes us sentient, beings not animals."
Obi-Wan's eyes opened wide. "I thought it was the Force."
A deep laughter was the answer as his master reached out and gently tugged on the thin braid. "Scamp," he admonished fondly. "Let us say that love in its way is just as powerful as the Force."
Curled up in a chair, remembering that old conversation, Obi-Wan Kenobi, last padawan of the legendary Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn sighed unconciously as he watched the continuing argument. If only his master practiced what he taught. No, that was unfair he knew. His master....
"Hey, Obi!" Startled from his musings Obi-Wan looked up to find his friend Reeft grin down at him. His friend, a Dresselian, was looking greyer and more wrinklier than ever as he threw himself down on a nearby sofa. "Force, I'm exhausted! My master ran me ragged today." He rolled his eyes, "I'll never know how a rock can move so blasted swiftly." He gestured with his hands, "One minute he's right in front of you and then, woosh! He's gone!" Stretching lazily, gracefully, Reeft yawned. "Where's Bant?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, "Haven't seen her today."
They both felt the familiar warm Force-touch a moment before Bant appeared before them. The young Mon Calamarian seemed to glow, her great silver eyes almost translucent and the salmon pink of her skin shone as if polished.
The corners of Reeft's mouth turned up as he inspected her slowly and finally he drawled, "Well, well, what have you been up to, or should I say into?" he wiggled his eyebrows.
Bant's ears twitched, the Calamari equivalent of blushing but her eyes sparkled. "It was absolutely, bloody great, Reeft!"
The older boy sat up, swinging his feet to the ground and leaning forward. "Come on, Bant 'fess up."
Bant collapsed into the nearest chair. "You know my master's a Cinrusskian?" her voice lowered and she glanced around, "What she does is..."
She paused, waiting until Reeft said impatiently, "What?"
The young Calamarian giggled, "Since all Cinrussians are emphatic, whatever she feels, I feel and vice versa. So really, only one of us needs to get stimulated for both of us to get pleasure. So far I'm the one who's always been physically aroused, but last night she finally allowed me to do it to her." Once again Bant paused until Reeft was all but bouncing with impatience.
"Well?!" Reeft glared at her, "out with Bant, don't be coy."
Bant shot Obi-Wan a look brimming with mischievous laughter. "Last night, my master decided it was time for me learn what really satisfied her. So when I got back from kata practices, there she was, hanging from the ceiling. She'd spun a cocoon around her body and was hanging from it, you know like in a sling?"
Reeft stared at her with undisguised fascination.
Bant continued, "Her silk is stronger than steel actually, and when she weaves it around me it's like..." She hesitated briefly for the right description, "like flying Reeft!" Remembered pleasure made the Mon Calamari padawan's eyes shine. "But last night, it was my turn and she was sort of swaying back and forth there and I picked up the feather and went underneath her and started to stroke her egg-sacks." Bant closed her eyes remembering the feeling, of standing in the room, the tip of the giant iridescent feather tickling her master's egg-sacks, and then the indescribable pleasure that began to fill her every pore. It rolled over like a giant wave, welcoming and swallowing her into its green depths...
She was finally brought back to the present and gave her two friends a radiant smile. "I can't describe it in words, it was truly amazing."
"I can see that. So, no more fretting?" Reeft teased her. He gave her a mischievous grin, "I remember how worried you were about sex, Bant."
Bant cocked her eye at him, "What was it Obi said?" Her voice sank into an imitation of their friend, "'A fish and a spider, Bant, that's great for afternoon tea, but you live in the water and she flies, doesn't leave a lot of room for sex unless you do it hanging upside down from a tree.'
" "Right, Obi?" There was no answer, and when the two padawans turned to look at their friend they found Obi-Wan oblivious to them. "Obi!"
"Huh?" He looked up and found himself the focus of two pair of eyes. "Watcha talking about?"
"What else? Sex, my friend, wild, dirty sex."
"Oh," Obi-Wan said without much interest, but then a hint of the old mischievous Obi-grin ghosted across his pale face. "Hey, Reeft, stop pestering Bant and tell us exactly what *you* do in bed with your master."
The Dresselian padawan smiled smugly. "I give my master a bath."
Bant and Obi-Wan stared at him. "A bath?!" Bant finally asked. "That's all?"
Reeft nodded, "A very special bath," he explained. "We have to get the minerals imported from her umm, sorry his home planet, then I mix them in a bucket and slowly pour them over him. He says he feels *exactly* as if I was his second husband." One of the special traits of the Horta was that as they matured they changed sex, all Hortas were born male, then as they matured they slowly changed into female mode, only to return to male after the birth of their first child.
Obi-Wan blinked. "And that satisfies her, uh, him?"
Reeft nodded again. "Master Fiwosila absorbs them, I guess the closest comparison would be is if you were to have an orgasm of all the skin on your body, you know?"
There was a short silence as all three padawans tried to imagine what that must feel like.
Finally Bant said solemnly, "Force, that must be great."
"Well, my master *says* that humanoids can't imagine it." Reeft sighed.
Bant winked at Obi-Wan and said, "But that only tells us what you do for your master, what does your master do for you?"
Reeft grinned, "Oh, no fear, Master Fiwosila knows his duty."
Bant and Obi-Wan exchanged another look and then by unspoken agreement they moved closer.
Reeft gave them a very smug grin. "Well, you know that Hortas' can change their body mass?" They both nodded, "They can also shift their mass, kind of like when tectonic plates move in a continent. My master just shifts a little and...!" he gestured graphically. "I'm telling you it's the greatest feeling. Kind of hard, and hot and wet, and...and..." he closed his eyes and breathed out, "absolute ecstasy."
There was another silence and then a fascinated Obi-Wan said slowly, "But what if he miscalculates and shifts back again when you're inside?"
Reeft's brown eyes went wide and he actually paled. He gulped once. "He wouldn't!" he exclaimed.
Obi-Wan frowned, "Actually, all it would take is a moment's inattention and, wham! Besides I thought a channel through rock creates a vacuum."
Reeft's smile returned. "Ordinarily yes, but that's the really cool thing, he makes the hole *just* fit and then my master uses the goo he secrets to walk around, to sorta slime the walls." The ... smiled blissfully, "I'm telling you it's the best feeling in the world." He frowned, "Actually, the only thing I'm wondering about is whether I'll like to have sex with anyone but a Horta."
Bant suddenly lost some of her radiance as well. "I know what you mean," she admitted. "I've been thinking about that as well. I love my master dearly, but there aren't a lot of Cinrussians around. Obi is the really lucky one. His master is the same species. Hey, Obi, what's it like making love to your master?"
Obi-Wan didn't answer, and suddenly his face lost its smile. "I wouldn't know," he finally admitted very glumly. He looked at his two friends. "I did it guys. I finally got my courage up this morning. I told him that I love him, and you know what he said?"
"That it was just a passing infatuation. Then he explained, very kindly, that because padawans and masters are so close, when a padawan moves into puberty they almost inevitably fixate on their Master. Then, he told you that love inevitably becomes confused with normal adolescent urgings and therefore the padawan experiences sexual arousal for their master and that this Is A Good Thing." Bant giggled, "Obi dear, you just got the standard 'Confused Adolescent Padawan Lecture.'"
Reeft chimed in, "Yeah, but just remember you're not supposed to fall in love with your master, just have sex with them."
Although Obi-Wan actually smiled a little sheepishly, the misery did not leave his face. "I only wish that's what it was. But I, it's so much *more*." He touched his robe just above his heart, "it's not infatuation, I know what that is." He shook his head stubbornly. "I love him and the Force knows I *want* him."
Bant snuggled down into the sofa and placed her feet in Reeft's lap, boots and all, ignoring his protests. Her wide, flat boots, made of a spongy material to keep her feet nicely wet made a wet squishy sound as she shifted.
"Hey! Watch it, Bant," you're dripping all over me," Reeft complained.
Bant ignored him as she told Obi-Wan, "It doesn't matter what you want Obi, Master Jinn won't touch you. You know that in his eyes you're still a child."
Obi-Wan grimaced. "I hate it when you're right," he said gloomily. "I thought when I performed the fifteenth level kata perfectly, or when I negotiated the Broomidian Treaty or when..."
He stopped as both the other padawans burst out laughing to give them a very hurt look.
"Obi, you could perform a thousand perfect katas and solve the Kataarian civil war, and it still wouldn't matter. Nobody admires Master Jinn more than I do," Reeft nodded in agreement, as Bant gave him a sly look, "well apart from you, but the man does has his weaknesses and one of them is that he won't touch his padawan." She shrugged, the salmon pink skin rippling oddly, "You've gotta remember that Master Jinn's from Derrida. You know how archaic and monogamous they are there. Not to mention that they've got that silly 21 rotation rule."
"But it's not fair!" To his horror, Obi-Wan realized his voice was cracking. "He's not a Derridian. He's a Jedi. And I'm his Padawan, and I'm *supposed* to share his bed." Reaching out and snagging a sweet-fruit from the bowl on the table in front of them he bit into it gloomily. "Wouldn't you know it? He never hesitates in making work until every muscle in my body is aching. Or to study advanced astrophysics. But when it comes to the one thing I was really looking forward to, he won't *do* anything. What am I supposed to do?"
As usual it was Bant who came up with the answer. "Well you could always ask for another master," she joked and then added at the very dark look Obi-Wan shot her, "Oops, wrong answer I guess. Actually, Obi, why don't you talk to him? Tell him he's shirking Master's duties?"
Obi-Wan considered that. "Maybe," he finally conceded, "but I can't really see myself take my master to task for not doing his duty, can you?"
Neither Bant and Reeft, both of whom were secretly more than a little in awe of the legendary Master Qui-Gon Jinn, could really see their irrepressible friend do so either. "Okay, next suggestion. Seduction."
Obi-Wan gawked at her. "What?!" he finally managed to stammer, going red.
"Seduce him. Come on Obi, you remember the class we took last year? The one with all the teaching aids and holograms?"
Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded weakly. "You mean the one with the scented candles and uh, oils and stuff?"
Bant gave him the smug grin of a padawan who had just been satiated to the point of unconsciousness by her master. "That's the one. I'll help you make-up," she offered enthusiastically, "and Reeft can get some kadara spice."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened recognising the name. "You mean that humanoid aphrodisiac? The one that's forbidden in seventeen star systems?"
Growing enthusiastic, Bant sat up, "That's the one, he's always boasting about those disreputable friends of his."
"Hey!" Reeft aimed a mock blow at her, "Don't knock my friends, and talking of them... I know someone in house-keeping who can get us the rest of the stuff."
Obi-Wan swallowed again, feeling his throat go dry. "I don't know..." he started to say weakly, but he was quickly overridden by Bant and Reeft.
Later that evening while Qui-Gon was at a Council reception, Obi-Wan, Bant and Reeft gathered around the holo projector in the quarters Obi-Wan shared with his master and watched in fascination.
Eyes firmly fastened on the impossibly sultry woman undulating gently along, Obi-Wan demanded, "Where in Sith's hell did you *find* this disk?"
Reeft waved airily, "Oh, a friend of a friend knew his guy wh - "
He was interrupted by Bant. "Will it work?" she demanded pragmatically.
The Derissian scowled at her. "Of course it will. My friend said the techniques learned on this disc will seduce a rock!"
Obi-Wan sighed, "I have the feeling that compared to my master a rock would be an easy proposition."
"Well, at least a rock is already hard," Bant murmured.
"Hey!" Reeft protested, "I'll have you know that rocks make the very best lovers!"
The all fell about howling with mirth.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Master?"
"Are you sick?"
"No, Master."
"Then kindly cease your nervous twitch, you look like a demented Denebian sparrow-owl."
"Yes, Master."
"Obi-Wan?
"Yes, Master?"
"Are you hurt?"
"No, Master."
"Then, please explain why you are limping. Did you injure your hip doing our last training session?"
"No, Master."
"Well stand up straight, don't slink around like a pick-pocket on the prowl."
"Yes, Master."
"This isn't going to work," Obi-Wan said nervously as Bant, tongue poking out in concentration, delicately applied the makeup to his face with a fine brush. "Jeeze, Bant, that tickles!"
"Stand still, you moron!" she snapped and then added briskly, "bend over," and opened a small container scooping out some sort of thick translucent jelly.
Obi-Wan took one look at the goop on her finger and gulped, then shook his head. "No way, Bant."
She advanced; he retreated until his back hit the wall. "Look, Obi, don't you remember what it said in the textbook? You need this since Master Jinn doesn't secrete enough to smooth his passage."
"Thank you *so* much, Bant, for that romantic image," Obi-Wan said sarcastically.
"I'm not trying to destroy the romance here, my friend, but trust me when the moment comes, you don't want to have to break off just 'cause you can't find the lube. Now bend over."
With a deep sigh, Obi-Wan obeyed, bending over and trying not to flinch as Bant parted his buttocks. "Cripes! That itches," he complained, and yet as her finger reached inside the tight ring of muscle, he felt a sudden flash of heat spreading from his groin as the flesh between his thighs came alive and hardened.
Bant glanced at him, and suddenly giggled. "Well, you're eager enough, I wonder if Master Jinn knows what he's getting into? Here," she straightened and reached behind her, wiping her fingers and then handing him a armful of material soft and light as a melting snow-flake.
Obi-Wan held it up, watching the light shimmer through the ethereal gossamer-fine silk. "What is this?"
"Gooan spider-silk, Reeft had a friend of a friend..."
They both chorused together, "'who knew this guy.'"
They looked at each other, the corners of their mouths twitching in nervous laughter. "Oh Force Bant!" Abruptly Obi-Wan sat down. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Of course you can, this can't be more difficult than performing a 12th level kata, or take the exam in advanced Huttese Linguistics."
Before Obi-Wan could say anything, Reeft came flying into the bedroom. "He's coming! Come on, Bant, we've got to get out!" Grabbing the young Calamarian girl, Reeft dove for the door, giving Obi-Wan a thumbs up as they dashed by.
Hurriedly pulling on the pants Bant had given him and trying to ignore the feeling that he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, Obi-Wan walked into the living room between their two bed-rooms and stopped transfixed.
He stared in stupefaction at the changes Reeft and his mysterious friend in housekeeping had made. Silky gauze disguised the pale cream walls, the floor was covered by a sinfully thick carpet in deep lush jeweled colors, that felt almost alive as Obi-Wan walked across it, his feet sinking deep into the softness and tickling his ankles, sending tiny tingles up his legs.
Fighting down panic Obi-Wan stared at the small table beside the enormous divan that now stood where their sofa usually was. Staring down at the assortment of plates and bottles, he felt almost relieved when he recognized the small deep-blue pot of kadara spice.
He wondered what in Sith's hell half of the things on the table were. Picking up the nearest plate, he sniffed suspiciously at what looked like canapés and decided he really didn't want to know what was in it. He could only pray that Reeft's housekeeping friend wouldn't poison them both.
Nervously, Obi-Wan fiddled with his pants, trying to hitch them a little higher so they wouldn't fall of his hips, and tried his best not to feel the way the material clung to his skin in a constant sensuous whisper. He looked around again and realized that the usual casual simplicity of a Jedi apartment had been transformed. Heavy incense perfumed the air, it looked....
"... like a Mos Eisley brothel! By the Force Obi-Wan, what have you done?!" Qui-Gon exclaimed stepping into the heavily scented room. His nose twitched at the incense perfuming the air. Then he caught sight of his padawan and for a moment all Qui-Gon could do was stare at the exotic figure, dressed in nothing but a pair of harem-pants riding low on his hips, slender, well-muscled body oiled and gleaming in the flickering light of the candles.
Obi-Wan smiled tentatively and bowed, "Ah, welcome home, Master."
Qui-Gon opened and then closed his mouth as Obi-Wan moving with a graceful sway of hips, escorted him to the divan, and poured his master some tea.
Qui-Gon sipped gingerly at the hot tea and a very strange expression crossed his face. Suddenly Obi-Wan realized to his horror that he'd dumped about ten times amount the sweetener he was supposed to in the cup. All but snatching it from his master, he hurriedly poured some more tea before moving back to the table to offer Qui-Gon something to eat.
"Obi-Wan, look out!" The exclamation of his master came only a few moments before the acrid odor of burnt spider silk started to emit from somewhere behind him, and feeling the sudden heat, Obi-Wan cursed viciously in Huttese as he realized that he must have passed too close to one of the candles causing his pants to catch fire. Using the Force, he hurriedly extinguished the flames but there was a large jagged rent in the material and a decidedly unpleasant smell.
A choked noise from Qui-Gon's direction, made him whirl glaring suspiciously, but his master looked his usual solemn dignified self apart from a tiny twitch of one eyebrow.
Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan gathered himself.
A single tendril of Force started the hidden music unit in the wall. According to Reeft, the delicate tinkle of a waterfall, the whisper of the wind through a spring forest on Alderaan would be the perfect mood-setter.
There was a moment of utter silence, and then both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan jumped as their ear-drums were brutally assaulted by the latest industrial rave. Too distraught to use the Force, Obi-Wan dropped the bowl of fruit in his hands and rushed over to wall and all but tore the panel out in his haste. However, no matter what he did, the damn box continued to emit ear-shattering shrieks and howls. Finally, in despair Obi-Wan simply disabled the entire system. It would take him hours tomorrow to reassemble, but right now he couldn't have cared less.
When silence finally fell again, Obi-Wan composed himself, drawing on his lessons as a Jedi-in-training. Although, it was probably, he had to admit, not what his teacher had intended when she'd told him, 'a Jedi can maintain tranquillity at all times through meditation.' A quick glance at his master proved only that Qui-Gon, as always, looked every inch the serene Jedi Master. Not a muscle in his face moved apart from a minuscule quiver at the corner of his mouth.
Biting his lip and silently cursing Bant and Reeft for getting him into this as he desperately tried to regain his serenity, Obi-Wan moved to the table. Gloomily he thought that despite the make-up and pants and room he had seldom felt less sexually attractive. He sent out a cautious probe towards his master, but was met only by that thrice-dammed wall of serenity.
Meanwhile his hands moved swift and sure, brewing more tea, and when it was just about ready, he opened the kadara spice box and very carefully started measuring it.
When the first sniff of kadara reach his nostrils, to his horror, Obi-Wan suddenly felt himself start to choke and cough. By the Force, what was in the pot? Fuzzily he thought he'd kill Reeft if this was his friend's idea of a practical joke. He blinked out of rapidly reddening eyes.
"Obi-Wan?!" Qui-Gon was up from the divan and on his knees beside his wheezing padawan. "What is wrong?"
Obi-Wan tried to speak but instead started to sneeze again, and humiliated he felt large hands tilt his head.
Qui-Gon leaned forward and sniffed once, and then a slow tremble ran through his large frame although his voice was perfectly solemn. "I'm afraid, Obi-Wan that you are suffering from an allergic reaction to kadara spice. It's not uncommon you know."
Abruptly realizing just what a fool he must look and feeling the tears threaten, Obi-Wan tore free and fled blindly into his room, throwing himself on the narrow bed and holding back sobs that choked him.
So lost in misery was he that he didn't even feel Qui-Gon's presence until large warm hands gently touched his heaving shoulders.
"Obi-Wan?" He flinched violently, curling into a small miserable ball.
"Go 'way," he muttered into the sodden pillow.
When had his master even done what his padawan wished? Ignoring his words, he felt those same arms lift him from the bed and settle him into the circle of warm arms. Hiding his face in a broad shoulder, Obi-Wan felt his tears run, wetting the rough fabric of the tunic beneath him.
For a long time Qui-Gon just let him cry, stroking slowly down the slender back, whispering soft assurance into the spiky red-gold hair. Finally, with a final hiccup, Obi-Wan shifted slightly and muttered, "Sorry, Master."
Qui-Gon smiled softly, "The fault is mine, my padawan. Look at me," a large finger gently tilted a tear-drenched a miserable little face so he could look at it properly. The kohl Bant had applied so assiduously had run, and Qui-Gon couldn't hold back a tender chuckle, "You look like a raccoon, my Obi-Wan."
"Sorry." Ashamed, Obi-Wan buried his face in his master's tunic again, rubbing his chin against the rough fabric.
He felt the sigh that went through the body holding him. "Obi-Wan, you do not need any artifice." A thread of laughter warmed his voice, "And, by the way, where did you get all that?"
"Bant helped with the clothes and stuff and Reeft got the food and the spice," Obi-Wan mumbled into his master's shoulder.
Qui-Gon shook his head, "I do not even want to think of the rumors that will no doubt circulate the Temple after this." He sighed again and when he spoke his voice was far more serious. "Obi-Wan I want you to go wash the paint off your face, and ah, other things off your body. I'll make some tea and then we'll talk."
Standing beneath the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the perfume, the oil and the cosmetics, Obi-Wan wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment. He wanted nothing so much as to crawl under a stone and never emerge again. If the 'fresher had a window he'd have been seriously considering jumping out of it. Of course, their quarters were about seven hundred floors up so that would have still not been a viable option. He delayed as long as possible, but finally he knew it was time. Taking a last look at the pale, miserable face in the mirror, Obi-Wan firmly reminded himself that he was a Jedi and not a coward. He took a deep breath and left the 'fresher dressed in his ordinary cream tunic and light pants.
Qui-Gon was in the living room, which had been restored to its usual welcoming casual warmth. The Jedi Master was kneeling on the floor, meditating, a steaming pot of tea beside him. Obi-Wan silently slipped to his knees facing his master, letting the familiar pose soothe him. He closed his eyes and released his humiliation, his frustration and his anger over tonight's fiasco into the Force.
When Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, he had regained some of his equilibrium and was even able to meet Qui-Gon's eyes without blushing too badly.
There was a long, but not uncomfortable, silence and then Qui-Gon said quietly, "Do not ever doubt, Obi-Wan that I desire you."
Obi-Wan's mouth opened but no sound emerged at first. Finally he managed to get out, "You do?" He wished it hadn't sounded like an incredulous croak.
Qui-Gon smiled, eyes suddenly darkening to the color of midnight. The heat in them made Obi-Wan blush, hot, sweet wildfire spreading through his body. "You are a exquisite young man, body and soul, Padawan."
"Then, why?" he stammered knowing he sounded impossibly gauche and not caring.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "As you know I do not always agree with the Council, and one of the 'traditions' I have always abhorred is the one that maintains that a padawan should give himself or herself to his or her master when the master so desires." Tawny eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Oh yes, I have heard the argument that it increases the bond, and perhaps it does occasionally. But I've also seen more than one padawan hurt and damaged by a relationship he or she wasn't mature enough for, or indeed desired. I would never do that to you, Obi-Wan."
For the first time he touched the boy, a finger gently tracing the contours of a straight nose and firm chin. "You are so young Padawan, too young to know your own mind, I have always thought. I wanted to give you the time and opportunity to form other relationships, to discover the joys of the body without any pressure." A second touch, and Obi-Wan leaned into the palm sliding along his chin and cupping his jaw. "There can be no true pleasure unless it is shared, body and soul. I do not wish for a sacrifice, however willing, in my bed. If there cannot be love, at least there must be mutual need. Do you understand what I mean, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan met the dark blue eyes firmly. "I understand, Master. But there *is* love. I love you, body, mind and heart." He leaned closer not moving from his kneeling position, holding out both hands, palms up. "There is no sacrifice, unless it be yours." He gave Qui-Gon a shy look, "since you must teach me all I need to know."
Qui-Gon's breath hissed out. He wondered if Obi-Wan knew how enticing he was in his innocent ardor? "Ah, Love," and the endearment made Obi-Wan glow, "do not ever fear that, if you so desire, I will teach you whatever you want."
The words, and even more the tone gave Obi-Wan the courage to do what he had longed to do for so long, and rising, he slid into the lap, into the strong arms that closed around him. "I do desire you, Master." He raised his head and kissed Qui-Gon. It was an awkward kiss, and all the more sweet for it. Feeling Qui-Gon's response, the wet, rough tongue gently twining around his, Obi-Wan began to tremble, slender hands kneading almost frantically at the arms that enfolded him. To his mingled shame and surprise, it needed no more than that kiss for Obi-Wan to lose most of his self-control as his body arched and rubbed frantically against the man holding him, his breath coming in small gasps.
"Shhh, little one," Qui-Gon soothed gently, the large hands he knew so well running down his body gently. In response Obi-Wan twisted and all but purred, the touch of callused palms running down his sides at once calming and yet almost unbearably arousing. "There is no hurry, Obi-Wan," he smiled a dropped a kiss on the head nestled against him. "Come, we will be much more comfortable in bed."
Obi-Wan stopped breathing. Him. Bed. Qui-Gon. He closed his eyes, concentrating all his effort on not disgracing himself as he felt his body's response to Qui-Gon's soft words. Oh Force, he'd already made enough of a fool of himself to - he bit his lip fiercely and managed to hold back as he felt Qui-Gon rise and carry him like a small child to the wide bed.
Qui-Gon slowly undressed him, the light tunic and pants melting away beneath the large hands. Feeling the slight coolness of the air on his naked body, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up to a sight he had never seen before. Qui-Gon was looking down at him with an expression he had never dreamed his calm, controlled master would ever wear. There was something hungry, almost predatory in the midnight eyes staring down at him and for a moment Obi-Wan felt a shiver of fear travel through his body.
Qui-Gon must have seen the fleeting apprehension because suddenly his face softened in a smile and he lay down, tucking Obi-Wan's head beneath his chin and whispered in his ear, "There is nothing to be afraid of. We can stop here and now. I will do nothing but hold you tonight, I swear."
Obi-Wan almost yelled in frustration. "No!" it came out just a little more emphatically than he'd intended, a wail of frustration. Trust Qui-Gon to turn noble. "I mean, no, please, Master, I really, truly want this." He would go stark raving mad, he thought darkly if after all this, all Qui-Gon did was to hold him.
Another soft chuckle was his answer, warm breath sliding like the finest gossamer silk along sensitive nerve-endings. "Ah, the impatience of youth."
This time it was Obi-Wan's turn to turn around and slide up so he could hold Qui-Gon's head between his hands, fingers tangling in the soft, heavy strands. "No," he said very firmly. "Not youth. Impatience for *you*." It was very important to him that Qui-Gon understand that this wasn't just some youthful need, that this was love. He bent his head and kissed Qui-Gon, loving the shudder that slowly traveled through the tall Jedi Master's body. The thought that he, Obi-Wan Kenobi, had this effect on his beloved master went to his head like the finest Alderaanian flower-wine. Although he wanted nothing more than to surrender to the fire in his blood, the throbbing of his flesh he wanted Qui-Gon to understand the reason he was here. So when he finally had to break off the kiss, he slid back a little, resting his elbows on the broad chest beneath him, and looked very seriously at his master.
"You know Master, if all I'd wanted was a casual bedpartner to share some pleasure with, I could have found any number of willing padawans or knights." His lips curved into a small mischievous smile, "I've certainly had enough offers. But I don't want them." Suddenly he sobered, "I wanted, I *want* you. I," and suddenly his voice was very small, "I wanted it to matter. I want someone who wants *me*, not just a willing body."
Taking him by surprise, Qui-Gon moved, rolling so Obi-Wan was on his back looking up at the man hovering above him. There was no fear, not even a shade of apprehension, just need and trust and above all love in Obi-Wan. "Never, ever doubt, love that I want all of you." Qui-Gon smiled a little sadly as he dipped his head and tasted the lips opening so willingly beneath him. "You are so beautiful," he whispered against the graceful curve of a smooth pale cheek.
The reply was suddenly fierce arms around his neck. "I'm glad," Obi-Wan whispered back, burying his face against Qui-Gon's neck. "I'm so glad." Before Qui-Gon could question him on this decidedly un-Jedilike vanity, Obi-Wan continued, his voice muffled, "I do want to be beautiful to you because it's the only thing I have to offer."
Qui-Gon drew back slightly, looking down in something close to shock. "Obi-Wan, what are you talking about?"
Obi-Wan smiled at him sweetly, face transformed by passion and love into a thing of ethereal beauty. "My face and body are the only thing I can give you." His eyes fell and a little of the joy was lost. "I've wondered sometimes what else I can give you in return for everything you are to me. I love you so much, Master," something very much like pain shimmered in the shallow-water eyes, "I would give my life for you. But, you are the one protecting me, the one teaching me, and, and," his voice sank to a whisper, "I know I'm just an ignorant virgin padawan." A shudder shook his slender body, "And I've seen how the people we meet look at you, not to mention Master Windu and other Masters and Knights here at the Temple, and then I don't know what you'd ever want with me."
"Oh Force...!" Qui-Gon whispered stunned, before a long finger gently tilted up Obi-Wan's face. "Listen to me, Love. When I met you I was a bitter lonely man. Xantanos' betrayal had scarred me badly. I would never have turned, but neither was I wholly of the Light." He shook his head at Obi-Wan's instinctive protest, "it is the truth, Obi-Wan. And then you burst into my life, refusing to give up and you reminded me what it meant to be Jedi." He smiled a little remembering the thirteen year old Obi-Wan had been, all big eyes and legs with a courage and self-sacrifice that would put adult Jedi to shame. "You saved me, Love. I do not know what I would have done had you not come into my life when you did."
Fingertips slowly traced a path down pale flanks and he watched in mingled amusement and passion how slim hips immediately arched off the bed and Obi-Wan gasped. "I would love you if you were the same species as Master Dal-Li." That surprised a giggle out of the boy, Master Dal-Li being what could best be described as a sentient virus, wandering the halls of the Temple held together by a plastic container and a anti-grav belt.
Qui-Gon chuckled as well before he bent his head and let his lips follow the same path as his hands, enjoying each gasp and moan as Obi-Wan's head rolled back and his hands tightened around the bed-clothes. Then he almost levitated off the bed as he felt Qui-Gon's lips close around his cock, sucking firmly, while another finger slowly stroked the puckered opening hidden behind, pressing lightly inside. Legs falling open at the mercy of his body, it did not take long for Obi-Wan to feel himself explode.
Slowly floating down, he could do nothing but sigh in enjoyment as he felt too sated to do anything but sigh and purr in satisfaction as a wet tongue gently cleaned him, swiping around his balls and down the length of his cock. By the time Qui-Gon was finished, Obi-Wan was achingly hard once again.
Qui-Gon moved up and took him in his arms, one large hand closing gently against the slender hardness, slowly stroking and teasing as he kissed Obi-Wan. "But fortunately, you are of a race that I can touch, and your beautiful spirit is housed in an equally beautiful shell." He smiled down at Obi-Wan, dropping a kiss on his nose, "and the Force knows, I desire as well as love you."
The passion with which Obi-Wan responded took him by surprise. "As do I, Master." He moved, turning so that he was resting on top of his master's broad chest, long slender legs moving inside hard muscular thighs.
Body fluid and pliant Obi-Wan bent his head, lapping like a small cat at first one then another of the deep rose nipples that hardened beneath his tongue. Enjoying the soft gasp from his master, he licked his way down the flat stomach.
Arching beneath the small hands, Qui-Gon was aroused by the shy inept touch as he had never been by the most accomplished caress before. He opened heavy eye-lids to look at the slim young body kneeling between his legs. Obi-Wan was wearing that thoughtful, slightly abstracted look that meant his padawan was concentrating on a difficult problem. The laugh that shook Qui-Gon contained tenderness, amusement and passion. As Obi-Wan took his cock in his slender hands, watching in fascination as it twitched and moved between his caressing fingers, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and called on all the discipline at his command. Despite that, the first tentative touch of a small pink furled tongue lapping at the tip almost made him lose control.
Spine arching off the bed, his breathing harsh and labored, Qui-Gon felt the bedding wrinkle and shred between his strong fingers as he felt himself taken and surrounded by moist heat. He had to consciously stop himself from taking and ravaging what Obi-Wan was offering as a gift without price. Spine arching off the bed, he felt the beginning of his orgasm, spread from its center to every atom of his body...
Eyes closed, heart still pounding from his climax, Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan move up his body and curl up beside his master. Opening his eyes, he found his little padawan smile at him, with could only be called smugness, as his tongue emerged, licking up the last creamy whiteness at the corner of his mouth.
The sight was both wonderfully erotic and almost unbearably touching, and Qui-Gon felt something painful at the back of his throat. Sometime during the past two years, when he hadn't been looking, the stubborn, hot-tempered and delightful child he had accepted so unwillingly as his padawan, had grown into a fascinating young man. Qui-Gon's arms came up to enfold and protect and love, Obi-Wan purring softly in satisfaction as his padawan shifted and came to rest against him.
Laying his head on his master's chest, Obi-Wan was sure that, whatever the oneness with the Force was that his teachers were always saying was the ultimate goal of any Jedi, it was nothing to the joy that filled him in the here and now.
Moments, an eternity later, Obi-Wan stirred in Qui-Gon's arms and turned to face his master again, the light of stars reflecting in his changeable eyes. "Master? Isn't there something else you're supposed to do?"
Gently stroking along the elegant lines of the slender body in his arms, Qui-Gon murmured into his ear, "We need not do anything more, Love."
"No!" Obi-Wan twisted, "I want you inside me," he said forcefully. "I need to feel you. Please, Master." He could not articulate the primal need he felt for Qui-Gon's possession. He did not know how to explain the instinctive knowledge that the act would seal forever their bond.
There was an infinite tenderness in the large warm hands that molded and then re-formed his body. The love in the kisses left him breathless and hungry for more, so much more. Finally, Qui-Gon murmured in his ear, "Open your legs, Obi-Wan."
Trembling with eagerness and just a little fear, Obi-Wan obeyed, feeling the heat and weight of Qui-Gon slip between his thighs, preventing them from closing again. He almost jumped at the first touch of a finger gently sinking into his body. It felt... strange and yet somehow right. He wriggled pushing the finger deeper.
He had thought it would hurt; he had expected it to hurt as Qui-Gon's fingers were replaced with something larger and harder. At the first feel of his master's flesh inside his body, Obi-Wan went still, trying not to tense, fear shooting little sparks along his nerves.
"Shh... Obi-Wan, trust me, I would never hurt you," he heard Qui-Gon's deep voice in his ear, and unconciously he relaxed as large fingers moved down his body, weaving patterns of desire and need. He knew that Qui-Gon would never hurt him. Going fluid and boneless once again, Obi-Wan surrendered unconditionally to the man holding him.
What no one had told him was how the pain of being stretched and filled and possessed mingled with the pleasure at being taken and cherished and loved to create an exquisite heat that threatened to consume him. Instinctively he pushed his hips back to take *more*, but a big hand on his hip prevented the restless movement.
"No," Qui-Gon breathed in his ear, nipping lightly at the earlobe, causing a delicious shiver to travel down his spine. "Don't move, Love, I don't want to hurt you."
"Not hurting," Obi-Wan whispered, "more, please..."
A soft deep laugh was his answer as Qui-Gon shifted slightly, the movement brushing against something deep inside his body that sent pure fire through every nerve ending. "Ahhh!" Obi-Wan exclaimed softly, as he felt Qui-Gon's hand envelop his hardness, stroking, thumb flicking lightly over the crown, lingering over the tiny slit. Not even his master's command could have kept him still then as he arched and thrust into the hand, the sensation of Qui-Gon inside him and his hand moving rhythmically was too much, Obi-Wan came so hard he actually saw stars.
Completely relaxed and boneless with satiation, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon thrust lightly and then liquid heat filled him.
Dimly he felt Qui-Gon's kiss on his temple, the smile of his master as he leaned over the smiling, dazed boy in his bed. Leaving, Qui-Gon returned with two towels, one damp and one dry. Gently cleaning his padawan, both of them enjoying the process, as witnessed by Obi-Wan's purring and twisting beneath the gentle touch and the heat in Qui-Gon's eyes he then slipped back into bed and gathered Obi-Wan back into his arms.
"I've always wondered what you would look like..." Qui-Gon said softly, deep-blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction and tenderness.
Obi-Wan lifted lashes spiky and heavy with sweat. Stretching lazily and smiling the confident smile of someone who knows he is loved and wanted, he asked, "Like what, Master?"
"What you would look like after being loved." Unable to resist the smile, Qui-Gon gently teased the swollen tender lips apart. "Although none of my imaginations ever did justice to the reality."
Obi-Wan looked up at the big man above him, the man he loved with ever fiber of his being, "Well, you won't have to imagine anything ever again," he said voice filled with joy and surety. With Qui-Gon's possession of his body, it was as if all Obi-Wan's doubts and anxieties had vanished and he felt confident, complete and more happy than he'd ever thought possible.
He smiled impishly. "It certainly took you long enough to do something about it."
Qui-Gon sobered. "Obi-Wan you know my reasons." For a moment he looked troubled again, as his hands slowly touched, lingered, caressed, "You are so young," he dropped a kiss on the spiky hair, "lying here you look so much like the child I tucked into bed and cuddled."
"Will you stop that!" his padawan said, suddenly annoyed. "I am not a child. I'll never grow as big as you," that realization had caused him a pang or two, "but, you know what Master Yoda says," he grinned at Qui-Gon's roll of the eyes, "'size matters not.' Why is it, Master of mine, that you never hesitate in entrusting me with the responsibility to save lives or even take it when necessary, but you won't admit that I'm old enough to share your bed?"
Rolling over on his back, pulling Obi-Wan with him so that they ended up with the boy lying half on him, Qui-Gon sighed deeply. "I admit I'm not very logical," he quelled Obi-Wan's snort of amusement with a mock-stern look, "but it is different, my Obi-Wan, whether you admit it or not. This," he gestured at the rumpled bed and the two of them entwined, "could very easily become more than you want or need."
Laying his head on Qui-Gon's chest and enjoying the slow steady beat of the heart beneath his ear, Obi-Wan said calmly, "Never." He thought it best not to mention that he had already resolved not to leave Qui-Gon for however long their lives would last.
Obi-Wan hid his smile in the hot, damp skin, breathing in the musky scent. No, it was best not to spook his master. He loved the man with all his heart but Qui-Gon did worry too much when it came to things like Obi-Wan's youth and ability to make an informed decision.
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow looking down at the grinning young man, an amused light in his eyes. "Possessive, aren't you, love?"
Obi-Wan nodded, "Absolutely. You," he hugged Qui-Gon, "are mine just as I am yours, and I'm going to be the only one in your bed from now on." He scowled, remembering the very un-Jedilike jealousy he had suffered as he'd watched Qui-Gon lightly flirt with diplomats and Jedi Masters alike.
"In that case, Padawan..." As Qui-Gon bent his head and skillful hands began to weave their enchantment once again, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and smiled.
"Hey Obi," Bant fell into a chair beside him. "How did it go last night?" She gave him a closer look and suddenly giggled. "Or do I need to ask?"
Before he could answer Reeft sat down on the other side, his plate, as always, loaded to surfeit. "Hey, Kenobi, did it work?" Then he took a second look and started laughing. "You look like a Bantha stallion at the end of mating season."
All Obi-Wan could do was give his two friends a silly grin. "It was..." his voice died out and he gave them a blissful look.
Bant dug into her breakfast, "Yeah, we know, Obi, but do get that smug smirk off your face."
Obi-Wan couldn't stop his smile to save his life. Looking across the dining hall, he saw his master in conversation with Mace Windu. Yet as if feeling Obi-Wan's eyes on him, Qui-Gon turned and gave him a single look, hot enough to singe. Obi-Wan suddenly found himself grinning and blushing bed to eat his breakfast.
Digging into his gruel, Obi-Wan looked like a cat licking its whiskers. Life had suddenly become a lot more interesting.
The End