-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon Jinn stuck his penis through a hole in the wall.
It wasn't an experience with which he was intimately familiar or
eminently comfortable. He looked surreptitiously down the length of
the wall, where other holes awaited at varying heights, with varying
diameters. It was more cold than arousing; the plasticine ring that
cradled his most intimate parts had not been warmed in preparation
for occupancy. Furthermore, he felt rather vulnerable, considering
that he had no idea who might be on the other side of the wall.
Bouncing carefully on his heels to keep the circulation going, he
waited.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan knelt on the cushion that had been provided for him, waiting
for his first 'patron'. Gods, this was embarrassing. Just how did he
always manage to get involved in these things? He shook away his
lingering discomfort. It wasn't important, he told himself. All that
mattered was doing his duty and doing it well. It would not do to
shame the Jedi with a poor performance.
Not far down from him was another humanoid performing his duty and
Obi- Wan found his eyes reluctantly drawn to the sight. It should
have been humorous perhaps, watching a young man servicing an
anonymous patron through the barrier of a wall but somehow... he
squirmed uncomfortably, trying to watch without obviously staring.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon uncomfortably attempted not to listen to the person that had
already been enjoying the services of this establishment when he
arrived. Apparently he found this concept more exciting than Qui-Gon
himself did. Still, when the Jedi Master had discovered what
accepting the ritual courtesies of the Jaxtarian Royal Court
involved, he'd been glad that he could sneak away without his
Padawan in Obi-Wan's customary place at his side.
Without Obi-Wan here to witness, this was merely uncomfortable. With
him here, it might well have been impossible. Qui-Gon squirmed a
bit, gazing up at the ceiling. Beige. It could use a nice new coat
of paint, in a quiet beige.
The man next to him finished with a shout, convulsing, palms
slapping against the wall, and Qui-Gon blushed crimson, looking away
and humming a little to himself. Jedi Control. When he was accepted
and pleasured, he would not make such a... vulgar, and
embarrassing... display! It would not be commensurate with the
dignity of a Jedi Master.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Fighting the urge to whistle, Obi-Wan instead settled himself on his
back against the soft cushions. The customs of some people would
never cease to amaze him, he thought, shaking his head slightly.
When the Chamberlain had told him what would be expected of him, it
had been all he could do not to faint right there in the richly
decorated throne room, like some flighty little child, not the Jedi
he was supposed to be.
The other servicer was certainly getting... vigorous, he noted, with
a touch of apprehension. This might not be as easy as he had first
thought. All thoughts were wiped away when he glanced back at his
own station and saw that his first patron had arrived when he wasn't
paying attention.
He winced mentally. Not a good way to start out. Shifting forward
onto his knees, he steeled himself for what he was about to do. Just
duty, he reminded himself, this was a part of his mission and must
be handled like any other task. A part of his brain snickered at the
word 'handle' and he ignored it, calm and ready to do his service.
Until he got a good look at exactly what he was supposed to be
servicing.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
The longer he waited to be attended, the more uncomfortable Qui-Gon
grew. Perhaps he had stuck himself into the wrong hole. Maybe he was
being filmed for purposes of blackmail. Maybe the size of his cock
was just too intimidating for anyone to take him up on this
ludicrous offer. He gazed longingly back in the direction of the
small dressing chamber where he had left his robes and his
lightsaber. Well. The metal one, anyhow.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Unless the DNA of the Jaxtarians had changed when he walked into
this room, the man in front of him was not of their species.
If the fact that his skin wasn't green hadn't given him away, then
certainly the tiny sprigs of dark hair that were visible would have.
His patron was a human then, but Obi-Wan had thought that his master
and he himself were the only humans in the Palace...
He clapped a hand over his mouth before the hysterical giggles that
were rising up him he could escape. Oh, Force around him, this could
not be happening. Still, he thought, as he studied the soft
flesh that was only inches from his face. He had been wanting his
master for years now, perhaps not like this but in some fashion.
A mischievous impulse rose in him and he leaned forward, very
lightly running his tongue along the side of the flaccid shaft.
After all, he did have to do his duty for the Jedi.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Should he leave? This was ridiculous. While he waited, two more men
had walked up and inserted themselves, and were giving every
indication of enjoying the experience. Perhaps he should-- Qui-Gon
flinched and very nearly shouted as just at the moment he would have
pulled back, a hot wet tongue touched him and trailed along his
flaccid shaft.
He trembled, going almost instantly erect at the shock of the soft
touch, and bent his head, his hair curtaining his face and screening
his embarrassment. Force willing, this would be over quickly. He had
not expected the experience to be so intensely arousing, but it was
incredibly erotic, and it had hardly even begun. He let his forehead
rest against the wall and waited for more.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
He had only just barely touched the man and his cock had stiffened
immediately. Obi-Wan leaned back quickly to avoid losing an eye,
looking somewhat nonplused at his master's shaft. Damn, he had been
impressive enough soft. Erect his master was damn well formidable.
Banthas had smaller organs than Qui-Gon.
Ah well, no going back now. He reached up and gently took the heated
length in hand, felt it throb warmly under his touch. Had it been so
long, he wondered, stroking the soft skin lightly, that his master
was ready to come at barely a touch? Mischief was replaced by a
surge of determination. Not if he had anything to do with it. He may
never have a chance to do this again, he would be damned if he let
it end so quickly.
Carefully Obi-Wan pushed back his master's foreskin, exposing the
crimson head of his shaft. It was already shiny with soft fluid, a
testament to Qui-Gon's sudden arousal and with a secret smirk
Obi-Wan leaned forward and lapped the clear liquid away savoring the
salty bitterness, his tongue probing the tiny slit.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
A slight hesitation after the first touch left Qui-Gon's balls
aching and his insecurity stirring. Perhaps the problem was due to
his race; the only other beings here were Jaxtarians and
interspecies sexual contact might be distasteful if not strictly
forbidden. But a hand was curling on him, and fingers were stroking
his length gently, so gently that a shiver ran up his spine.
He wondered about the being who was on the other side of the wall,
preparing to pleasure him. Was the other person old or young?
Beautiful or homely? Male or female? Somehow it didn't matter; all
that mattered was the gentleness of the hand on his erection.
Qui-Gon relaxed suddenly, his intuitions telling him that he was,
quite literally, in good hands. The vulnerability of his position
was exquisite, in its way as much of a gift as the gentle hands of
the pleasurer on the opposite side of the wall, who was stroking
back his foreskin now with surprising dexterity.
Then the tongue came again, teasing maddeningly around the crown of
his erection, truly tasting him for the first time. Qui-Gon felt
sweat beginning to bead on his temples, and pressed his hips forward
more firmly into the orifice that gave him access to the sweetness
of his unknown companion.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
As he alternated soft kisses and teasing licks down the length of
Qui- Gon's cock, it suddenly came to Obi-Wan that this was not at
all what he had expected. He had assumed that he would feel some
kind of degradation from this kind of servitude, being forced to
service someone in this manner but he realized then that -he- was
the one with the power. It was the patron who was the vulnerable
one, his master who was subject to his whims.
Wrapping a hand around the base of the shaft to steady it, Obi-Wan
finally leaned forward and took the head into his mouth. He heard
Qui- Gon's cry as he did so, even muffled as it was through the
wall, and he smiled as best he could, flicking his tongue against
the plush softness that was resting just inside his lips.
He sucked, very softly, pulling just a little more of the shaft into
his mouth. It pulsed lightly against his tongue, already straining
and Obi-Wan mentally shook his head. Not yet, Master, oh, not yet,
he thought, taking more of the hot length in and stroking his tongue
along the sensitive underside. He was going to make this last if it
killed both of them.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon was aware that in spite of his vow to control himself, his
breath had already begun to escape him in wild gasps. He glanced
around, embarrassed, but nobody seemed to be paying him any
attention. His companion was a tease, determinedly taking things
slowly, holding him in his mouth but not even sucking. Qui-Gon
wished he could clench hands into the other person's hair, force him
to speed his pace, but he was at the tender mercy of the mouth
behind the wall.
So much for his dignity.
With shaking hands he smoothed back his hair, allowing cool air to
strike his sweating throat. He was careful not to withdraw himself
from the wall, keeping his hips pressed firmly forward. Yes, he was
indeed glad that he had managed to leave his apprentice behind.
He relaxed his hips, giving in to the strong will he sensed on the
opposite side of the wall. Perhaps it would be best to permit
himself to enjoy this, even to fantasize. A small smile curved his
lips as his imagination presented him with a tantalizing image: his
own Padawan kneeling before him on the other side of the wall.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
A soft sigh escaped him as Obi-Wan relaxed his throat, taking
Qui-Gon's rather impressive cock as deeply as he could. He'd never
actually dreamed of doing this quite in this fashion but now that he
was, he certainly had no protests.
Qui-Gon seemed to be agreeing with him. Even not knowing who it was
that was pleasuring him, Qui-Gon had seemed to finally be giving
himself over to it, his only movements had been trying to press
deeper, as if he could push himself through the wall and take his
unknown lover.
So Qui-Gon would just give himself over like this to an anonymous
stranger, would he? Impulsively, Obi-Wan pulled completely back,
releasing Qui-Gon's shaft and letting it bob free. Glistening wet
with saliva, it seemed to strain towards him. If a penis could beg,
Qui- Gon's certainly was, he thought with some amusement.
Leaning forward, he blew on the wet skin teasingly, watching as
Qui-Gon pulled back slightly, obviously shivering. Soft, pleading
whimpers were making their way through now and Obi-Wan relented,
again wrapping his lips around the tip and taking the shaft in
quickly this time, deeply as he sucked strongly.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon broke his vow of silence again, gasping as he was taken
deeply. Sweat broke out on his ribs and flanks; he could just
picture Obi-Wan taking him this way, the tilt and angle of his
Padawan's head, the expression on his face, his closed lids. Of only
this was his Padawan.
His lover drew back, blowing a cool chill over him that shivered him
in spite of the sweat on his body. Then the mouth slid over him
again, this time adding suction, and Qui-Gon cried out low in his
voice, surprised again, wishing he could repay his mysterious lover
in kind. He was being sucked at last, but not steadily-- a maddening
fluctuation of pressure and style that led him teasingly and then
denied him climax.
Qui-Gon put his head against the wall again. "Please," he murmured,
not even sure if he could be heard.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan barely heard the soft plea, so intent he was on what he was
doing, varying suction and the occasional flick of his tongue as he
kept carefully from a rhythm. He felt the single, whispered word
more than heard it, a faint vibration through the Force and his own
arousal sang within him.
He'd known this was his master, for who else could it be, but
feeling the unconscious Force-pressure Qui-Gon had put on the word,
as only a Jedi could have, proved it to him.
Obi-Wan slid his free hand down to his own erection, cupping it
through the fabric of his pants even as he surreptitiously glanced
around. No one said anything or made any move to stop him. All the
other servers were busily working away at their own patrons. He
stroked himself hard through his trousers, not even trying to stop
his faint moans, allowing them to vibrate against the hard shaft in
his mouth as he tightened his teeth briefly, letting them graze the
sensitive skin.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon felt his unseen lover respond to his soft plea, sucking more
rhythmically. The warm mouth on him vibrated, and the Jedi Master
blinked; it was not the steady thrum of humming, but the soft jagged
moans of arousal that caressed him. Whoever was serving him was
enjoying himself; his sensitized skin could feel the puffs of rapid
breathing.
Himself? Perhaps. Qui-Gon had a sudden conviction that fantasy
aside, this was a man who held him in his mouth. The pitch of
the moans proved it, if nothing else, a purr too low to be a woman's
voice.
Qui-Gon moaned too, yearning to hold and kiss and caress his lover.
As erotic and exciting as this was, it was not enough, he
wanted more. He would leave this place as unsatisfied, or more
unsatisfied, than when he arrived.
He wished he could make Obi-Wan moan that way.
Qui-Gon swallowed, the thought sending an arrow of heat straight
into his groin. He was not going to last much longer, even given the
erratic nature of the pleasuring. Suddenly he realized he wanted his
lover to hear him, wanted him to know how well he was succeeding in
his task.
"Yes," Qui-Gon groaned, pressing his cheek against the smooth wall,
feeling cold trickles of sweat down his back and over his buttocks.
"More. Yes. So good..."
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
More soft words were floating toward him and Obi-Wan felt his own
need spike, stroking himself harder even as he damned the wall that
was separating them. But complete anonymity was vital to this
service and even if he could reveal who he was, who was to say
Qui-Gon would not be horrified to find that it was his own Padawan
who was pleasuring him?
Enough. This might be his only chance to ever be this close to
Qui-Gon and he was not going to waste it on worries like that.
Instead, he concentrated on the hard cock in his mouth, the hot,
satiny feel of it against his tongue and his palm that was still
wrapped around the base.
Eyelashes fluttered down as Obi-Wan closed his eyes and memorized
every detail of this, the sweet-salt taste of Qui-Gon skin, the
tangy scent of his sweat. If all he would ever have of this, of
Qui-Gon, was this memory, then so be it. He found a rhythm then, one
that he had been trying to avoid but could no longer resist.
Stroking himself in time with his own pull and release of Qui-Gon's
shaft, he let go of his control, just for a moment, wanting to
simply feel this. His own moans were escalating against his will
even as he could hear Qui-Gon's growing louder.
Not yet, his mind begged although his body screeched in protest,
please, not yet. Give me just a few more minutes, just a few more!
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon felt his lover begin to work at him in earnest now, and he
struggled to delay the moment of his orgasm as long as possible,
suddenly strangely reluctant to let this strange connection end. An
act that was supposed to be erotically impersonal had struck him
with the very deep personality of it, the very deep mystery of his
terribly intimate connection with an unknown other.
He was pressed against the wall as tightly as he could, every inch
of his body flat against its surface that could be brought to bear.
Closer to his lover. Words of passion and encouragement tumbled from
his lips, but he did not even see the glances he was receiving, so
caught up he was in the moment.
It was happening, he could not restrain it much longer; he was going
to fill the hot mouth that surrounded him with his essence, sharing
himself in the most intimate way.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
The spoken words on the other side of the wall were getting
decidedly loud, loud enough that Obi-Wan could hear them easily and
it only made him want more, to want completion even as a part of him
wailed for what that would mean. He sucked strongly, as deeply as he
could, fighting back his gag reflex as he pressed himself against
the coolness of the wall. Closer, he realized dimly, he was trying
to get as close to the other man as he possibly could.
The flash point arced through him like an electrical current,
traveling between his own flesh and his master's. Obi-Wan nearly
screamed, the sound muffled by the shaft filling his mouth. Arching
into his own hand, he retained only enough presence of mind to suck
hard, taking Qui-Gon's shaft as deeply as he could.
He could dimly feel it straining, pulsing, spilling the bitter
evidence of Qui-Gon's pleasure against the stroking pad of his
tongue and he savored it, adding the flavor to his hidden memories
to be cherished later when this was reduced to a memory.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon gasped as the hot mouth convulsed around him, sucking almost
painfully hard, seeming to sense his impending orgasm. He
surrendered to the stimulus of the talented mouth, sagging against
the wall and expending his pleasure into his unknown lover, helpless
as a babe.
His lover drank him down over a white-hot eternity, whorls of Force-
energy twining around him as sexual energy crested and receded
inside him. It was almost a physical blow when the hot mouth
released him, and his lover withdrew himself.
Qui-Gon lay against the wall, deep sobbing breaths husking in his
chest, berating himself for letting it end so quickly, and for
letting it touch him so deeply. Slowly withdrawing his body from its
receptacle, he reached his shaking forefingers through the small
hole, hoping against hope to touch his lover one last time.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Sagging to the cushions around him, Obi-Wan struggled to even out
his gasping breaths. He had held on as long as he could, gently
soothed Qui-Gon's softening erection with soft strokes of his tongue
as long as he had dared, before he had finally torn himself away.
Watching as Qui-Gon pulled away from the wall and disappeared from
his sight, Obi-Wan was horrified to feel his eyes stinging. Taking a
deep breath, he tried to calm his roiling emotions even as he wished
painfully that this had lasted just a little longer, that he would
have had just a little more time to clutch this moment close. But
there was no use regretting things that couldn't be changed.
Grimacing at the damp patch on the front of his pants, Obi-Wan
shifted, about to climb to his feet. At least his time of service
was over. But before he could move, he caught movement through the
corner of his eye.
Through the hole in the wall, the tips of two fingers peeked
through. Human fingers, with pale human skin. Qui-Gon's fingers.
Hesitantly, he reached up and then drew back again. No, this was a
bad idea, really bad. If Qui-Gon touched him, he might perceive
something. He wasn't nearly as distracted as he had been moments
before. And yet...
Very lightly, he ran the tip of one finger down Qui-Gon's, watched
them flex in response. Warm, callused, and familiar, he touched them
one last time, gripping them briefly in his palm before he pulled
away and shifted back from the hole, just in case Qui-Gon decided he
wanted a peek at his lover as well.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Just as he was about to give up and pull his fingers away, the
gentle pressure of a fingertip, almost as delicate and loving as the
mysterious tongue, touched his fingers and moved over them. Then his
fingers were squeezed gently, reassuringly, and he could sense
whoever was behind the wall had withdrawn.
It was over.
Qui-Gon drew a deep, shaky breath and stepped away from the wall,
drawing his shoulders straight and wishing for just a little more
dignity. He assumed he had now provided adequate service to the
gods, and he hoped that they, and the leaders of this benighted
planet, were well-satisfied, because he certainly wasn't going to go
through this again.
Moving away from the wall, he caught the motion of someone replacing
him at the station he had used, and had to quash a flicker of severe
jealousy. It was not, after all, like he had any personal connection
with or claim on his unseen lover. Not at all.
Saddened, he turned his back firmly and proceeded into the dressing
area. Opening the locker where he had left his clothes and
lightsaber, he heard a cordial voice greet him, and turned.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Leaning against the wall, Obi-Wan sensed another patron approaching
and stood hastily before he was trapped into serving someone else.
He had been quite prepared to perform for a stranger when he had
first walked in, ready to do his service as a Jedi but now, with
something far too close to pain twisting in his stomach, the idea
made him nauseous.
Another server took his place without even a glance and began to
work away at his client. Obi-Wan flinched away from the sight that
somehow seemed far cruder now and very nearly revolting, watching
the young man mechanically giving his patron release.
Turning, he straightened his tunics, grateful that the length hid
the dampness of his trousers as he left the server area. He had a
little time before he was to meet his master perhaps meditation was
in order. No perhaps about it, he thought ruefully. He needed a
chance to set this aside and bury it deep within, or else Qui-Gon
would see the truth in his eyes the moment that they met again.
But, oh, it had been so wonderful, for just that brief time. Obi-Wan
closed his eyes for just a second and allowed himself a moment to
remember. And then someone bumped into him from behind, dragging him
back to the now. He apologized hastily and started to walk again,
towards the exit and he left without a backwards glance.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
"Chamberlain," Qui-Gon greeted the Jaxtarian nobleman courteously,
but he was aware of a note of a chill in his voice. He hoped the
other man couldn't hear it.
"Master Jedi," the Chamberlain bowed deeply. "The Jaxtarian people
are grateful to the Jedi for honoring our gods. The embassy's
participation in the ceremony honors us all."
Qui-Gon bent a half-bow in return, hoping it would be enough to
satisfy propriety. He needed to get away, to meditate and find his
center, to ponder why he was so devastated by this. His response was
outside the boundaries of reason. However, the Chamberlain was still
staring at him, beaming officiously, and Qui-Gon knew more would be
required. "It was my pleasure to accept the responsibility to your
gods and to honor the Jaxtarian people," he essayed, mentally
cursing all diplomats and the Chamberlain in particular.
"Indeed," the Chamberlain approved warmly. "We had no idea Jedi were
so skilled in the gift and receipt of pleasure."
Qui-Gon nodded absently, snugging his sash around his waist and
reaching for his robe. Then a thought struck him. "The gift of
pleasure?" Force curse it, they couldn't expect him to take a turn
on the other side of the wall, could they?
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Barely outside the door, Obi-Wan nearly ran into the young man who
was the Chamberlain's assistant. Stepping back, he bowed hastily
even as he mentally sighed over his luck today. If there truly were
gods for the Jaxtarian people, they were not on his side today.
The young man returned the bow. "The Chamberlain wanted me to tell
you that we were most pleased with and honored by your gift to the
gods and that we thank you for it."
"The honor was mine," Obi-Wan replied, wincing at the mechanical
tone to his voice. He bowed again and moved to walk away but the
young man caught his arm.
"Perhaps now that you have served the gods you would now like to
care for your own needs? A more personal touch?" Even if the young
man hadn't spoken, the faint pulses of desire that were transmitting
through his touch on Obi-Wan's arm made his meaning clear.
Gently he disentangled himself, managing a weak smile for the
confused boy. "I thank you," he said, bowing yet again, "But I think
that I've had all the personal touches that I can handle for this
moment." The feel of a single finger against his own, straining for
a single touch, was more than enough.
The young man nodded and released him and Obi-Wan finally made his
escape, walking as quickly as propriety allowed to his chambers.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"Of course there was a gift of pleasure, Master Jedi. You and your
Padawan served the gods well."
Qui-Gon stared at the Chamberlain, deliberately tamping down both
insane fury and unreasoning panic. "My Padawan?"
"Yes, Master Jinn. Our records indicated he is above the age of
consent, and when we asked him, just as we asked you, he agreed."
The Chamberlain began to look upset. "Is there a problem, Sir Jedi?"
Qui-Gon stared at him for a long moment, searching for a diplomatic
answer. His mind flickered wildly between his image of the first man
he'd seen being pleasured, and his own desperate abandon. Had Obi-
Wan... Obi-Wan had. Oh, Force, Obi-Wan had; that explained it all.
He blinked, helpless dismay welling in him.
"It was so convenient, Sir Jedi, that you had one of your own
species to serve you," the Chamberlain's tones were ingratiating.
"He knew well what you would like, yes?"
"Excuse me," Qui-Gon spoke faintly. "I must go meditate; it is the
way of the Jedi to balance passion with serenity." He managed a bow
and shouldered out, leaving the bewildered Chamberlain fretting in
his wake.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Breathing deeply and easily, Obi-Wan allowed his sense of the Force
to expand out in rippling waves, releasing tension and replacing it
with calm. He was kneeling on a thin meditation mat, slowly working
his way through the shock of emotion that he had felt barely a half
hour before. He could deal with this, he could. He had to if he was
going to be able to face Qui-Gon again.
Earlier he had been so eager for this experience with his master,
why hadn't he considered the repercussions? Like the aching sorrow
he felt when he thought of his master, who had probably already
dismissed it as a duty and a chore. Resolutely, he again focused on
calm. If Qui-Gon chose to forget it, then so be it. He would still
hold the memory deep inside and that would be good enough.
A faint haze of discontent was making itself known through his
expanded awareness of the Force. No, not discontent but something he
couldn't quite place. It was hovering just on the other side of his
perception and he pulled his consciousness back within, opening his
eyes to see that Qui-Gon had already returned and was standing just
inside the door.
-=<Qui-Gon=-
"Padawan," Qui-Gon greeted his apprentice gravely. "I believe you
made a sacrifice today that should not have been required of you."
He watched his apprentice flush crimson, and could feel the
scattered shreds of peace Obi-Wan had gathered during meditation
blown away like shreds of mist in a gale.
"Had I known that you would be asked, I would have taken steps to
intervene and see to it that you were spared." Qui-Gon stepped
forward, watching Obi-Wan's eyes uncomfortably. "Are you... quite
able to deal with what you experienced, Obi-Wan?"
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan felt his face heat at his master's words. So much for
keeping this a secret. He wet his lips nervously, searching for
something to say that wouldn't make this worse. Qui-Gon looked
somewhat ill at ease with this. Of course he would have to play the
perfect master and discuss this instead of just ignoring it.
Qui-Gon hadn't moved from the doorway and was obviously still
waiting for Obi-Wan's response. The young man searched for something
appropriate, something that could ease the growing tension that was
hanging thickly in the air.
"Yes," he said finally, truthfully. He couldn't lie and he couldn't
display serenity he didn't feel. All he had was honesty and that he
would give his master, regardless. "Yes," he said again, aware of
the faint huskiness in his voice as he again remembered. "I can deal
with this."
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"That is well," Qui-Gon said, his voice distant and unemotional.
"For I find that I cannot." He turned aside from his Padawan's
suddenly agonized gaze, tucking his hands into his sleeves
automatically.
"I would not have had it be that way, if it were to happen between
us." Qui-Gon stepped to a narrow window and gazed out into the
palace grounds. "And I would not have had it happen before you
reached Knighthood, my Obi-Wan."
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
For a moment, Obi-Wan feared that his heart would stop, hearing his
master's words. Protests trembled on his lips, unspoken. It hadn't
been his fault, he had agreed to participate but he hadn't chosen
Qui-Gon, he hadn't done this deliberately. But he said nothing,
tears burning the backs of his eyes and thickening in his throat.
He had not done it deliberately, that was true. But he could not say
that he wouldn't have, given the chance. Balanced on a razor edge of
near despair and guilt he almost missed what his master said next
and the softly spoken words made wild hope flare within him.
Carefully, Obi-Wan stood, pausing to stretch the protesting muscles
in his legs before he took a step towards his master and another
until he was standing behind Qui-Gon. His master was gazing out the
window, his head tilted forward so that his face was hidden by the
curtain of his hair.
"Not like that," Obi-Wan replied quietly, "Not before my trials but
not never to happen?"
A faint stiffening of the shoulders was his only response and
Obi-Wan took a step closer. "Master?" And then very softly,
"Qui-Gon?"
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat. It had not been wise to
confront his apprentice so swiftly; his own ill-considered words had
betrayed him. He drew into himself instinctively, hunching his
shoulders around pain and fear. "After your trials..." his voice
trailed away, and he could feel the keenness of Obi-Wan's gaze
through the thin shield of his hair. "After your trials, I would be
willing to consider granting you anything you might desire of me,
Obi-Wan."
He turned abruptly away from the window. "But not now. Not yet. You
are not ready." He could sense Obi-Wan's hope, his determination,
and his courage failed him. If he could not make this point stick,
would he ever be able to command his apprentice again? If this
regrettable incident had spoiled his Padawan's training, he would
see to it that the Jaxtarians never saw the courtesy of Jedi
mediation again; he would--
He caught a breath, reining in his desperate temper. He would behave
like a proper Jedi and accept the consequences serenely. Only, he
couldn't. Not if he risked losing the one thing that meant the most
to him of anything in the galaxy: his precious Obi-Wan.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Only a tiny distance between them, not even half a meter and yet to
Obi-Wan in yawned in front of him like a great canyon. Qui-Gon's
shields were paper-thin and he could feel the conflicting emotions
warring within the older man.
If Obi-Wan were to push, if he were to take that last step and touch
his master, then he sensed that he would win and that Qui-Gon would
turn to him as a flower turns to the sun.
Instead, he lowered his head, tucking his hands in his sleeves in an
unconscious imitation of the man before him. He bowed, low, and held
the pose for a long moment, until Qui-Gon's head turned just a
fraction, enough to see him through the loose strands of his hair.
"As you will, my Master," he said simply. This was not a battle to
be won or lost; it was a matter of duty, just as the incident
earlier had been. And if this was how Qui-Gon felt, then it was his
duty as Padawan to obey.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"We shall wait, then," Qui-Gon sounded both disappointed and
relieved. "And perhaps we may discuss this again one day." His voice
inclined faintly, making the statement a question, but he did not
pause for its answer.
"I am proud of you, my Obi-Wan," he reached out and slid his hand
under his apprentice's jaw, tilting the bowed head so that Obi-Wan's
gaze met his. "Every day, my Padawan, you honor me with your
strength. You are already becoming a fine Jedi." His thumb brushed
hesitantly over the smooth cheek, and he let his longing and regret
flicker in his eyes.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Obi-Wan allowed himself to lean into the gentle touch on his cheek
for the briefest of moments and then he took a deep breath and
forced himself to pull away. No use tormenting the both of them.
"I'm very glad that you think so, Master, but may I at least hope
that our next mission isn't so trying on my strength of will?" He
let wry humor seep into his voice and was relieved to see the same
on his master's face.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"I have a feeling that our wills may be tried even more severely in
the months and years to come," Qui-Gon murmured, his eyes sparkling
down into Obi-Wan's with sudden, fond amusement. Before the young
man could protest, he caught Obi-Wan's face between his palms and
devoured his Padawan's mouth, tongue delving deep into the startled
but welcoming sweetness. Obi-Wan's passionate groan resonated
against his chest and his Padawan's arms slid around his neck.
He dragged Obi-Wan tightly against his body, striving to make the
kiss one that would endure them through the long months until the
young man would be deemed ready for his Trials. He could feel his
Padawan's mind opening to him, feel the surety and depth of the
young man's love and desire. Wait for me, love, and I will be
there for you, he promised silently.
-=<Obi-Wan>=-
Too startled to even respond for a moment, Obi-Wan could only stand
there, stunned, in Qui-Gon's embrace. And then the feeling of Qui-
Gon's tongue stroking deeply into his mouth, coaxing-- no, demanding
more-- dragged a helpless moan from him. He wrapped his arms around
his master's shoulders, pulling him down to return the embrace with
equal fervor.
Pouring every bit of the longing and need he had been holding back
for the past years, and would continue to hold back for some time to
come, Obi-Wan added the wet warmth and sweet taste of Qui-Gon's
mouth to his list of memories for the day.
Finally, reluctantly, he started to pull back, feeling Qui-Gon's
regret as keenly as his own as he pressed soft parting kisses on
Qui-Gon's reddened lips.
I love you, he sent, silently, not daring to speak it aloud
as he pressed a final, desperate kiss to Qui-Gon's parted lips,
letting his tongue flicker against them before he pulled back with a
sigh, folding his hands into his sleeves and gripping them tightly.
-=<Qui-Gon>=-
"As I love you," he spoke aloud in response to the desperate
thought, stroking Obi-Wan's face for a final time before dropping
his hands, letting them trail slowly over Obi-Wan's body until they
fell away from it. "Come, Padawan. We are wanted at Court."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan responded, and Qui-Gon let his hand touch the
small of the young man's back as he guided his Padawan from the
room.
-finis-
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