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Shattered
by
Keelywolfe
In one corner of the throne room was an
ornate birdcage, made of clear Teelleen glass. Delicate swirls and
spirals, gracefully swooped around the birds in a seeming waterfall
of crystal that looked as if the brush of a finger would destroy it,
never mind the tiny chirruping birds that perched within. An
illusion of fragility, Teelleen glass, once it hardened, was
practically unbreakable.
Qui-Gon Jinn studied that cage, focusing on its beauty, the shimmer
it cast whenever light touched it, reflecting a thready prism from
the sunlight that poured through the dozens of stained glass windows
that lined the walls of the throne room. Carefully memorized each
curve and twist, so that he would not focus on the words being said
around him. With neat precision he erected a transparent wall
between him and the world around him, his own cage of Teelleen glass
that he could see through but that no one else could penetrate. It
was the only way he could hold onto his rage.
Head bowed in respect, Obi-Wan stood before the Monarch of Hazpolla.
He listened to and acknowledged her heartfelt gratitude with the
solemn calmness that was expected of him. Yet his mind was wandering
elsewhere, more specifically at the man who stood a few paces behind
him. The very lack of emotion emanating from Qui-Gon spoke of the
turmoil that was surely roiling beneath the surface and Obi-Wan was
suddenly overcome by weariness, it took great concentration not to
sway on his feet.
The queen rose then, clapped her hands and told the servant who
appeared to take the Honored Ones to sleeping quarters. The Jedi
bowed to the Queen, a handsome woman whose face was as of yet
unlined by the turmoil of her planet, and in the moment of rising
Obi-Wan felt Qui- Gon's eyes on him and briefly, he felt it, barely
checked waves of anger. Keeping his face bland, he turned and
followed the servant.
When they first entered their sleeping rooms it seemed his master
would seethe silently all night. He said nothing, simply slid off
his robe and hung it up. Obi-Wan had just shed his robe and turned
away when he was grabbed.
He found himself sprawled face down across Qui-Gon's lap, the breath
knocked from him and before he had a chance to question or protest
he was shocked into silence by the first blow.
It -hurt-, the flat of Qui-Gon's hand smacking down on his ass.
Hard. Again and again. He braced himself against the floor as best
he could, felt Qui-Gon's other arm like a band of steel across his
back, holding him there. But he didn't try to escape, didn't fight
or protest. He simply endured. And endured. He could feel hot
wetness leaking from the corners of his eyes, knew that there were
going to be bruises in the morning and still he never made a sound,
the room was silent but for the harsh crack of blow after blow.
Finally, when it had become unbearable and he was close to
struggling in spite of himself it ended, as abruptly as it had
begun. Qui-Gon pushed him off his lap and Obi-Wan fell into a
graceless heap on the floor, pulling himself up to his knees to
spare his wounded posterior.
Qui-Gon had launched himself to his feet and was pacing, and even
now, his backside burning, Obi-Wan had to admire the grace and
fluidity of the man before him. It was strange and exotic in so
large a man, and with the burning pain there was another flame
within him and he shifted uncomfortably at the ache that started.
"Feel better?" There was no acidity to his tone, though there could
have been. Obi-wan spoke mildly, as if he wasn't kneeling on the
floor, half-crouched forward from pain.
Qui-Gon faltered in mid-step, halting and staring at the young man
as if he'd never seen him before. In a way, he hadn't, not like
this. Cheeks flushed and slick with tears, eyes reddened. But the
gaze was clear and unwavering and Qui-Gon felt himself flush, more
because there was no accusation in that tone, only soft concern.
"No. I don't." With a shuddering sigh Qui-Gon pressed a trembling
hand to his forehead, felt the heat emanating from it, from the
blows on his Padawan's backside. "I don't feel better at all." He
turned back to his Padawan and the memory of what the young man had
just done fluttered before his eyes, again sparking anger within
him. Without a word he turned and left the room, ignoring Obi-Wan's
startled questions. It was either leave or drag the young man across
his knees again and he'd be damned as a Sith before he used Obi-Wan
as an outlet for his rage again, never mind that he was the cause of
it.
His angry strides led him to the Palace gardens and he wandered
through them aimlessly, his mind swirling with turmoil.
In a darkened corner he all but threw himself to his knees, then
took a deep breath, forcing calm. He was acting like a spoiled child
and now he needed a clear mind. He closed his eyes and tried to go
through the Meditation of Clarity routine, but again and again, a
pair of eyes came into his mind. As he'd seen them minutes ago,
reddened and wet, as he'd seen them earlier, looking up at him
calmly in an excruciatingly short moment that had lasted like an
eternity in the darkest planes of all the Hells.
Unwillingly, he let his mind return to the events earlier that day.
It had been unexpected to be sure, the assassination attempt, and
foolish on the part of the assassin, to attack the Queen when there
were two visiting Jedi diplomats in the Palace. Qui-Gon had gone to
the queen...
"Your Majesty!" His shout was drowned out by the panicked commotion
in the throne room. Pandemonium broke out, screams and shrieks of
confused terror for themselves and their Monarch. The Queen had
collapsed, was lying on the floor when Qui-Gon reached her. She was
dazed but unhurt. There was a scorch mark on the wall, testimony to
a very near miss indeed. If she hadn't turned just when she did...
Qui-Gon lifted his head just in time to se his apprentice running
from the room and up a flight of stairs in the corner, in pursuit of
the Queen's attacker. With a mental curse at the boy's impulsiveness
he assured that the Queen was unharmed before chasing after them.
He didn't see it, when he came out onto the roof it was too late. He
did not see the fight that had surely occurred, hadn't seen the
would- be assassin and his apprentice circling each other, Obi-Wan
reluctant for a killing blow, not because he was unable but because
if he killed the man there was no way of knowing who had sent him.
And just before Qui-Gon's echoing steps carried him into the fight,
the man knew he had run out of time, he couldn't face two Jedi. In a
last desperate move he threw himself at Obi-Wan. The young Jedi had
stumbled backwards at the impact, the backs of his knees catching on
the low wall, tumbling both of them off.
That was what Qui-Gon had seen, his apprentice and the killer
falling backwards and time had stopped, it had seemed that he moved
as if the air had turned to ice water, the very blood within him
congealed and he knew he would never reach them in time, that they
would both fall to their deaths nearly a hundred meters straight
down.
And then time had restarted and in a desperate lunge he caught Obi-
Wan's hand and was nearly pulled off himself at the combined weight
of Obi-Wan and the assassin, who was clinging to the young Jedi's
leg. Qui-Gon had been reaching for the Force, intending to levitate
both men back onto the walkway. He saw the blaster in the assassin's
hand with a sense of unreality, saw it leveling at his head. The
other man was apparently uncaring if he died as long as he took
someone with him and in that second Qui-Gon looked into Obi-Wan's
eyes and saw the calm determination there.
//No, no, Obi-Wan no, don't you -dare- no, no// "No!" He shouted as
his Padawan released his hand and he and the intended killer both
went into free fall. The terror of the assassin and Obi-Wan's
serenity both washed over him in a crashing wave of emotion and he
nearly collapsed as it combined with his own despair. He couldn't
look away, just watched in a kind of horrified fascination as his
Padawan, his friend, his lover, fell to his death.
To see the young man twist in midair, to use the Force to propel
himself over and grab onto one of the ornate statues that decorated
the Palace walls was almost surreal, anticlimactic as he was so
sure, so intent on the young man's death. Obi-Wan had barely fallen
ten meters.
Deep gasping breaths came then and Qui-Gon realized that he had
forgotten to breathe. After he'd calmed himself sufficiently he and
his Padawan had used the Force to lift the younger man back onto the
roof.
And then the scene in the throne room, the queen thanking the heroes
that had saved her. Qui-Gon had barely been able to listen; they
hardly deserved the praise. The assassin had died before they could
question him, Obi-Wan had nearly been killed and the entire
situation had been a shamble.
Qui-Gon pulled back to himself, still kneeling in the queen's
gardens. What had Obi-Wan been thinking? Taking off after the
assassin alone had been foolishness enough and then nearly killing
himself and for what? No, the young man was far, far too reckless.
And if anyone was to blame for that it was Qui-Gon.
Ever since they had become lovers on that most unusual mission it
had been interfering with their teaching relationship. He was far
too lenient, not demanding enough from his apprentice. Obi-Wan
apparently expected his Master to act differently now that they were
lovers and that was something that neither of them could afford,
lest the Council decide for them.
He shifted slightly, relieving the ache in his knees from kneeling
for so long. His mind drifted back to that mission, to the warmth of
holding his laughing Padawan in his arms, the way Obi-Wan smelled,
fresh and clean and faintly of soap...No. With an effort he pushed
those memories aside.
He should have trusted his first instincts when he had awoken that
day, to brush aside the situation and return to being simply master
and apprentice. That was his fault as well, he was the master, he
was responsible for this.
Then that was it, that was the root of the problem. Obviously their
becoming lovers had been a mistake and remaining so would be a far
worse one. And now it was up to him to rectify that error in
judgement.
With that he rose, stretching stiff muscles before leaving the
garden on swift feet.
He went back to their rooms with every intention of talking to the
young man, telling him that this relationship had been wrong and
trying to salvage whatever of their teaching bond that he could. And
if it were beyond repair he would find a new master to train
Obi-Wan. He ignored the heavy coldness within his breast at the
thought of losing his Padawan; Obi-Wan's training was far more
important than his own personal feelings.
That was what he intended to do. But walking to the door of
Obi-Wan's bedroom, unused since their arrival here, and seeing the
young man curled up on the bed, naked, the sheets hanging loosely
around his slim hips, made his resolve waver. His eyes trailed down
the smooth skin of Obi-Wan's back, to the curve of his backside that
was hidden beneath the sheets before drifting back upward. His
intentions vaporized completely when Obi-Wan's eyes blinked open and
caught his own.
Qui-Gon was taken aback at what he saw in those pale hazel orbs, a
painful tightness twisted in his stomach as he looked into the eyes
of his lover and saw...resignation. Acceptance. With a jolt he
realized that Obi-Wan knew what he was going to say, and had been
expecting it, perhaps since the beginning, when they had first
become lovers.
And yet he didn't plead, didn't beg, even silently. Obi-Wan never
defended his actions today and Qui-Gon suddenly knew he never would.
He had simply done what he had thought was right, no matter the
consequences. And now, he would accept whatever decisions Qui-Gon,
his master, made and try to go on, despite the pain it might cause.
He had been acting the true Jedi all along. And Qui-Gon felt as
small as a Tal-heen desert mouse.
Had he really offered so little, that Obi-Wan had been just been
waiting for this rejection? And how could he have so blind, to not
see Obi-Wan's actions for what they were? Total clarity struck him
then, as he stood, still looking into Obi-Wan's clear gaze. It
wasn't Obi-Wan who was having difficulties in adjusting to their new
status as lovers. He was.
He hadn't been angry at Obi-Wan for his perceived recklessness, he
had been angry with him for risking his life. Even now that thought
of how close his love had come to death today made nausea well up
within him, left a metallic trace of fear in his mouth. He had been
fooling himself, shifting the blame to Obi-Wan and trying to
distance himself from the cause of his pain instead of dealing with
it. And now, standing here in a suspended moment of awareness, he
could see he had been holding Obi-Wan at arms length since this
began, sharing his body but jealously guarding his inner thoughts
and emotions.
What kind of Jedi Master was he?
Obi-Wan was still looking at him, still waiting silently for Qui-Gon
to shatter his soul and then leave him sitting there amongst the
broken shards. In two strides Qui-Gon reached the bed, pulling the
startled young man into his arms and embraced him tightly.
Surprised, Obi-Wan half-struggled for a second before he realized
Qui-Gon was simply holding him, pressing urgent kisses to his hair
and neck. Uncertainly, he returned the embrace, winding his arms
around his master.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was so afraid for you today. I thought
I'd lost you, Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan," the words came spilling out of
him uncontrollably, tripping over each other as he struggled with
things that he needed to say. He settled on, "I love you," over and
over, half-sobbing the words against Obi-Wan's neck, whispering them
into his mouth as his touches became desperate and he was
overwhelmed with the need to touch, to prove that this was real and
Obi-Wan was truly with him.
Obi-Wan returned those kissed hesitantly, doubtfully. This wasn't
what he had been expecting, his entire being had been prepared,
hunkered down and braced for the rejection that he knew was coming.
He could deal with this, he had told himself. He had to deal with
it, had to make it work because if he didn't he was going to lose
the tiny part of Qui-Gon that would be left to him.
But this, this he wasn't sure he could handle, this was a flood to
nerves that had been resolutely preparing for a drought, this
was...he gasped as Qui-Gon finally managed to tug the sheet away and
pressed against Obi-Wan full length, his tongue invading Obi-Wan's
mouth urgently.
Gradually, the kiss changed to something less passionate and more
frantic, an affirmation and Obi-Wan finally pulled away, gasping for
air.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, forcing Qui-Gon to stop, and then pulling
him into a comforting embrace. "It's all right, it's ok, I'm here,
I'm right here," he soothed, gently stroking his fingers through
Qui-Gon's hair, loosening the tie and tossing it aside so that he
could massage Qui-Gon's scalp, moving downward to stroke tense
shoulders. The older man took a deep shuddering breath, ignored the
protesting of his pride and dignity and allowed Obi-Wan to comfort
him for once. Those hands slid lower, loosening his belt and sash
and dropping them off the edge of the bed so that warm fingers could
slide underneath Qui-Gon's tunic, soothing touches that settled
Qui-Gon's body as well as his mind.
They had happened so quickly, moved from being friends to lovers in
almost the same breath. This would take some time to adjust to,
Qui-Gon knew, now. Raising his head, he looked down at his Padawan,
no, his lover, knowing that he owed the young man more than an glib
apology.
"Obi-Wan, I have done you a grave injustice," he said softly, laying
a finger across Obi-Wan's lips when he would have protested, "No, my
love, it's true. I've wronged you with both my body and my mind and
I would make that up to you, if I but knew how."
A gleam came into Obi-Wan's eyes then, a hint of the somewhat
mischievous young man that Qui-Gon knew hid beneath Obi-Wan's façade
of somberness. A gleam that Qui-Gon did not trust one bit.
"We-ell, there is something you could do."
Qui-Gon liked that sly tone of voice even less than the gleam. He
sighed mentally, well he had all but asked for this. "What must I
do?" he asked heavily.
The smile that was teasing the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth turned
into a sharp-edged grin and the Jedi master wondered with some
dismay just where Obi-Wan had learned to look so damned -wicked-. He
shifted into a sitting position, uncomfortably aware that his
erection, which had wilted somewhat during the conversation, was
abruptly back at attention and pressing eagerly against the front of
his pants. Thank the Force Jedi tunics are long, he thought wryly.
"You could let me...return the favor," Obi-Wan fairly purred and
Qui-Gon was so absorbed in the seductive murmur that it took his
mind a moment to process just what the young man had said.
He looked, Obi-Wan decided, with indulgent affection, if he were
simple, all intelligence lost somehow. The older man's eyes widened
as the implications caught him and his mouth opened and closed
several times before he finally managed to stammered out, "You want
me to...you can't possibly...are you serious?"
Obi-Wan pursed his lips, rolling his eyes upward as if contemplating
the idea and then settled his gaze back on his stunned lover. "Uh
huh."
It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse. He couldn't possibly do
that! What kind of Jedi master would he be if he allowed his own
-Padawan- to give him a spanking? But that was the crux of the
problem, he realized, he couldn't have it both ways. He simply could
not be the stern master when he was in his lover's arms, he had to
give -some- leeway. Surely there was room for compromise? Although
looking at the wicked expression on Obi-Wan's face, he wasn't sure
if he wanted to make those compromises at this particular moment in
time.
"It's all right, Master," Obi-Wan said, with a soft sound of
disappointment, "I'll understand if you can't handle a bit of tit
for tat."
That got him, just as Obi-Wan knew it would, that light taunting
tone that insinuated that he couldn't handle it. Sending up a silent
prayer for patience he all but growled, "Oh, all right!"
Obi-Wan beamed at him, sat up and settled himself in a sitting
position at the edge of the bed. He wagged a finger comically at
Qui-Gon, "Come here."
With great reluctance, he did, settling himself awkwardly over
Obi-Wan knees. This was so humiliating, a hand smoothed over his
backside lightly and he seethed at the indignity of it. Jedi were
supposed to be humble, but this was a bit too humble for his tastes.
He was so caught up in his embarrassment that the first blow took
him by surprise. He nearly yelped at the stinging pain, Obi-Wan was
obviously pulling no punches.
The feel of a soothing hand on his ass startled him. "Relax,
Qui-Gon," came from above, "I'm only giving you what you gave to
me."
Not a comforting thought. He could block out the pain, put himself
into a trance but that would really be cheating. Instead, he did as
he was told and relaxed. "Just get on with it," he gritted out.
Another blow and the sound cracked through the air like a whip.
Another. And another. Braced against the floor, Qui-Gon wondered how
Obi-Wan had handled this. It wasn't the pain, but that mingled with
the sense of shame and embarrassment was nearly unbearable.
Again, the flat of a strong hand smacked him and then
something...changed. That hand drifted downward, between his legs to
lightly rub his inner thigh. Startled, Qui-Gon arched against that
touch before he thought about it only to be rewarded with another
blow by Obi-Wan's other hand.
The hand between his legs teased, moving upward to lightly stroke
his scrotum through the thin fabric of his pants and Qui-Gon
thoughtlessly spread his legs further to allow better access.
Another hard smack but somehow this didn't hurt as much, his ass
burned with pain but it felt strangely good as well, and he wondered
at it. He had never liked pain, that was never something he had
wanted during sex...
Another blow, just as Obi-Wan squeezed his cock through his
trousers, -hard- and he cried out, just a soft whimper but he could
dimly feel the satisfaction radiating off of Obi-Wan, realized that
in his embarrassment he had forgotten Obi-Wan's state of undress and
that he could feel Obi-Wan's cock pressing against his stomach.
"There." The word barely registered before Qui-Gon found himself
abruptly dumped to the floor. Shifting, he looked at his lover
through a red haze.
"I think we're even now," Obi-Wan said airily. It was Qui-Gon's turn
to smile then, an almost feral grin that had Obi-Wan blinking in
surprise. Perhaps he'd gone too far...
That was confirmed immediately when he found himself flat on his
back, Qui-Gon over him, holding him down on the bed.
"Oh, no Obi-Wan, we are -not- even. Not by a long shot." With that
he dove downward, capturing Obi-Wan's lips in a fierce kiss. He
responded with a fierceness of his own, all tenderness burned away
by a blaze of sheer need. Barely an hour before he had thought that
he would never be this way with Qui-Gon again and he almost didn't
believe that this was happening now. Although the hard, muscled heat
of Qui-Gon's body pressing against his own was certainly convincing.
He refused to let go when Qui-Gon tried to pull back, clinging to
him like a burr but Qui-Gon persisted, separating himself enough to
quickly shed his remaining garments and to turn the younger man over
onto his stomach. Obi-Wan went completely still as he realized the
implications, tried to control a tiny shiver that ran through him.
Warm, familiar hands were touching his back, soothing him. Qui-Gon
leaned forward to murmur in the soft cup of Obi-Wan's ear. "If you
don't want this, love..." he let the sentence hang, left the
decision up to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan felt even more lost as the choice was placed in his hands,
it would have been so much easier to not have a choice, to simply be
taken, although he knew that Qui-Gon would never do that. He did
want this, yet at the same time he didn't, felt a touch of fear at
the unknown. Qui-Gon was waiting for some sort of answer, running
his tongue along the curve of Obi-Wan's exposed ear. Well, fear was
the path to the dark side...
"I...I want this." If the wavering of his voice hadn't been a dead
giveaway then the trembling of his body certainly was. Qui-Gon made
no move to acknowledge that he had heard Obi-Wan's hesitant
agreement. Instead, he shifted his hands to Obi-Wan's back,
massaging firmly. His fingers fluttered effortlessly to pressure
points, easing tension until Obi-Wan was slumped against the
mattress, boneless as a drowsy kitten. Only then did his hands shift
to Obi-Wan's backside. A bit of tension returned but all he did was
massage the firm globes, and Obi-Wan let out a groan of pleasure.
One finger gently traced the dark crevice that divided the soft
cheeks, dipping between Obi-Wan's legs to lightly rub his perineum.
A choked moan was the only response and Obi-Wan spread his legs to
allow those fingers access. Large hands cupped his buttocks and
Obi-Wan felt the thumbs gently spread him and he tensed for an
invasion.
He was not disappointed, but it was also not the invasion he was
expecting. The hot wetness of Qui-Gon's tongue lightly traced the
dark puckered entrance to his body and he arched backwards in
surprised pleasure. Again, the limber wetness of a tongue stroked
against him and he nearly screamed at the sensation, his nerves
registering every tiny bit of stimulus; the prickling brush of
Qui-Gon's beard against sensitive flesh, the delicately probing
tongue that lapped a damp path downward, then returning to again
circle his anus.
Gods, he'd never even dreamed of such a forbidden pleasure, every
molecule in his body cried out as that nimble tongue pressed hard,
past the tight muscled circle, just barely inside him and he arched
against the sheets and came, strangling on a hoarse scream of sheer
bliss as he spilling his seed in ragged spurts against the bed
linens as flickering spots of light danced briefly before his vision
and he collapsed.
Obi-Wan had never felt so utterly relaxed in his life, even his
bones felt limp. Through the haze of contentment surrounding him, he
vaguely felt Qui-Gon still touching his ass with lightly stroking
fingers, but he practically ignored the faintly ticklish sensation
until he felt something press against his anus, and, before he could
react, inside his body.
It burned faintly and Obi-Wan realized it was a finger. Carefully,
Qui- Gon moved his oiled finger in and out of Obi-Wan's body,
loosening the tight passage and easing the way for a much larger
invasion later. He gently stroked the small of Obi-Wan's back,
encouraging him to relax. It didn't take much encouragement, Obi-Wan
was still as limp as a cooked noodle. Withdrawing the single finger,
he replaced it with two and that earned him a gasp. Moving inside
Obi-Wan, those fingers sought a certain place and when that gasp
turned into a startled moan Qui-Gon grinned privately.
Three fingers then, and Obi-Wan tensed a bit at that. "Relax, love,
just relax," Qui-Gon crooned to his uncertain lover, even as he
struggled to control his own body's response. Obi-Wan's was so hot
so tight and he thrust a bit harder with his fingers, wanting to be
inside that sweet heat with an urgency that was getting harder to
control.
Getting harder was right, Qui-Gon thought with a soft groan. Gods,
he never been so hard in his life, his cock felt as if were a bar of
steel and finally, finally he felt Obi-Wan relax, his body accepting
three fingers.
He withdrew, moving behind Obi-Wan, he positioned himself against
that tight opening, pushing his foreskin back and resting the tip of
his cock for just a moment against that small puckered opening,
savoring this most wondrous of all touches, this time that would
never come again. Finally, he could wait no longer and with a slight
push forward he simply sank in.
He stopped immediately when Obi-Wan cried out. "Am I hurting you?"
he panted out, every muscle in his body screaming for Obi-Wan to say
no. The tightness around just the head of his cock was a subtle form
of torture and he had to fight back the urge to come then and there,
his eyes rolling back slightly before he shut them tightly,
struggling to hold on to the last shredding fibers of his control.
"No, don't stop, don't I...oh, gods don't stop," was gasped out
beneath him in one ragged breath. Good enough. He pressed forward
again, sliding into that well-oiled tightness until the flat plane
of his belly was resting against the smooth curve of Obi-Wan's rump.
He stretched himself across Obi-Wan's slighter frame, blanketing his
lover with his own body and resting his cheek on the silky skin of
Obi-Wan's shoulder.
Obi-Wan was caught in a web of sensation. It -did- hurt, burned as
the heated length of Qui-Gon's cock opened him in a way that he had
never been before. But the pleasure of it, the heat that ignited at
the base of his belly overshadowed the burn of pain in a kind of
inferno. He buried his head in his arms and could only feel that
connection and thought nothing could ever feel better. Until Qui-Gon
started to move.
Tendrils of fire wove their way from his ass through his legs and
stomach and settled in his cock as Qui-Gon pulled back slightly and
thrust back inside. Slowly at first, reluctant to cause pain but as
Obi-Wan arched backwards, shamelessly begging for more those thrusts
he pushed harder, faster until he was pounding into the young man
beneath him, control vanishing in the sweet roil of pleasure.
Qui-Gon's fingers dug viciously into the flesh of Obi-Wan's hips,
pulling him backwards into his own deep lunges.
Obi-Wan was lost to it and, desperate to know he wasn't alone in
this tumult, he flung his mental awareness outward. He felt Qui-Gon
capture the shattered fragments of thought and emotion and they both
screamed at the backlash, at the doubled perception of taking and
being taken and with one final thrust they both came, Obi-Wan again
anointing the sheets with his seed as Qui-Gon seemed to pour his
very soul inside the body of the man he loved, coming for what
seemed an eon of rippling pleasure.
Gasping, forcing breath into starving lungs, Qui-Gon slumped
downward, sprawling his entire weight on the young man beneath him,
trembling with aftershocks. Obi-Wan didn't protest, merely squirmed
closer, relishing the heavy weight on him.
Using what felt like the last ounce of strength within him, Qui-Gon
just barely managed to turn his head and brush his lips against Obi-
Wan's cheek. And tasted salt. Frowning, he repeated the gesture,
pressing troubled kisses all over Obi-Wan face and everywhere was
the taste of tears.
"Did I hurt you, Obi-Wan?" he asked, alarmed. The young man shook
his head but seemed incapable of speaking as he struggled with
himself. A soft mental touch from Qui-Gon found tight shields
wrapped around Obi- Wan's emotions.
Harsh regret stabbed at him as Qui-Gon pulled out of and away from
the young man, sure that the Obi-Wan was trying, yet again, to
protect him. He gathered Obi-Wan into his arms as he continued to
press remorseful kisses to his face. "I'm sorry, love, I'm so
sorry," he murmured, resting his cheek against Obi-Wan's hair, which
was still damp and matted with sweat.
"You didn't hurt me." Shakily spoken, but determined. Still gently
rocking the young man, he let the question hang silently in the air.
Why, then?
Obi-Wan was silent, striving for words that did not exist, no mere
language could explain and finally, he simply let go of the wall
around his mind, casting himself outward as he had moments before
and let Qui-Gon decide if he wanted to catch him.
Without even a second's hesitation, he did, pulling the tangle of
thoughts and emotion within himself and he nearly reeled at the
flood that enveloped him. Love, despair, confusion, doubt, they all
pulled at him, each fighting for supremacy. Love for the man who was
holding him so tenderly. Despair because he knew that this wasn't
permanent, that eventually it -would- end and he would be left alone
to pick up the pieces of his shattered existence. Confusion as to
why Qui-Gon had done this, why had he not taken the out provided to
them and ended this before it became even more painful. Doubt that
this was real, that this wonderful sense of being cherished would
last even until the morning, that...Qui-Gon closed his eyes, this
was really just too painful.
And within it all was the dark swirl of his own aching regret, that
he had done this with his own self-absorption and anger, allowed
this to fester to a depth of pain that astonished him, even as he
marveled at Obi-Wan's ability to hide such emotion from him.
And still, overlaying each sharp edge of pain was love, bittersweet
and strong and the feel of it was like the warmth of the first ray
of sunshine after a bitter cold. Qui-Gon let that warmth fill him,
basked in the embrace of pure emotion that was Obi-Wan, it soothed
his own pain even as it struggle to overshadow Obi-Wan's.
Such a gift was not to be given, nor received, lightly. Qui-Gon
struggled with his own doubts, his fears. Could he sit silently
while this precious being offered him his soul and give nothing in
return?
Hesitantly, warily, he let his own shields thin, shields that he had
been building for a lifetime, and he felt Obi-Wan's surprise, then a
tentative touch brushing his mind. Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon
forced himself to submit to the touch and immediately felt Obi-Wan
chasten him gently, the mind touch stroked instead of probed,
soothed raw areas in his mind that Qui-Gon hadn't even known
existed.
Tenderness and love accomplished what force never could have and
Qui- Gon felt the wall of glass in his mind crack, then shatter
totally, allowing their consciousness to mingle freely, shifting and
finally letting him feel the true glory of Obi-Wan's love.
//Oh, I didn't know! Obi-Wan, I didn't...oh my love//, loud as a
scream within his head but no sound escaped his parted lips. He let
the spiral carry him away, knowing that no matter how far he fell,
Obi-Wan would be there to catch him.
"I want to bond with you." The head which held the hair that he had
been lightly stroking shifted and amused hazel eyes peering at him
through the darkness.
"Not half a day ago you were planning on leaving me forever, and
-now- you want to bond with me?" Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably at
the chiding tone. He shrugged, somewhat sheepishly.
"Well, that was before...you know."
"Yes, I know." Obi-Wan said dryly. When he said nothing else Qui-Gon
gave him a frown.
"Is that a no?"
"I'm not sure, I'm thinking." Again, silence and Qui-Gon had to
quell the urge to fidget. He was beginning to wonder which one of
them was the Padawan here, in truth he hadn't felt this young and
inept in far longer than he cared to think about.
"Well?" he finally asked, his voice colored with impatience.
"I'm still thinking. Ask me again in the morning."
"What!" Indignantly he sat up, looking down at the young man next to
him, who happened to be shaking with silent mirth. Qui-Gon scowled
at him, Obi-Wan was having far too much fun tonight at his expense,
but that glare only made the young man laugh harder. Qui-Gon waited
patiently for Obi-Wan to calm somewhat and then pounced on him,
kissing him until they were both breathless.
"Well?" he asked again, huskily this time. Obi-Wan graced him with a
beatific smile, looking at him with seductive eyes that glowed with
an inner warmth that made Qui-Gon tingle both in response and
anticipation.
"My love, how could you possibly doubt?" And with a tug he pulled
Qui- Gon back down, answering him with a kiss of his own and it was
a long time indeed before either of them had the breath or
inclination for any more conversation.
-finis-
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