Take care of your knees, you'll miss them when
they're gone. I'm not sure where I heard that particular gem of
wisdom but I learned the truth of it on a mission with my master on
the planet Tel'lar.
The people were in the middle of a violent political upheaval and my
master and I were in the process of chasing down a group of
dissidents who had tried to blow up the main senate hall.
Even with the pouring rain and treacherously muddy ground we were
gaining on them when we came to a wide trench in the ground.
Ordinarily it wouldn't have been a problem. I've leapt further
distances under worse circumstances, but in this case I made a
slight miscalculation. I didn't take the mud-slick ground into
account and the second my feet touched the embankment they flew out
from under me and sent me tumbling backwards into the trench.
That's the last I remember of it, falling backwards and a burst of
hot orange light blooming in my head. After that, nothing until I
woke in the infirmary on Coruscant. I heard the rest of the story
from the nursing staff.
My Master had seen me fall and used the Force to catch me and haul
me back up. He took me back to the Palace before again going after
the little band of renegades. Learning that he had caught them, no
thanks to me, filled me with a mixture of relief and embarrassment.
That was all the nurses would tell me before they put me back to
sleep and by then I was more than agreeable.
When I woke again Qui-Gon was there. I wasn't sure whether to be
pleased or wary but he didn't reprimand me, only apologized for not
being there when I had first awoke. He had been with the Council
giving his report and since I hadn't been on my deathbed they had
demanded that he come.
He couldn't stay long but before the healers chased him out he told
me that when I was better we would work on some balance exercises.
Oh, joy.
I found out, to my surprise, that the deathbed hadn't been as far
away as I'd thought. That last bright light I'd seen had been from
me hitting my head on something on my way down the ravine, probably
a rock, and I'd managed to fracture my skull. Qui-Gon's getting me
back to the Palace as quickly as he had had saved my life, yet
another debt to Qui-Gon that I can add to my collection. Still, it
could have been worse, I could have broken my neck.
I'd also done a nice job on one of my knees, torn ligaments and
muscles, a whole list of them that I did not particularly want to
remember. It was bad enough that it hurt like the blazes, I didn't
need to categorize every ache.
A few days in the infirmary I was declared well enough to be
released into my master's care, with a warning that my knee was
going to be stiff and tender for some time and that Master Qui-Gon
would be helping me go through some therapeutic exercises.
Lucky me.
Stiff and tender, as it turns out, was not quite accurate
description. Stiff was close enough, I couldn't even bend my knee at
first although after a few trips to the therapy room (or the torture
chamber as I was starting to call it privately) that stiffness was
easing.
No, it was the word 'tender' I objected to; saying that my knee was
tender was like saying that the galaxy was big or that Coruscant was
crowded. No, no, 'tender' was not the right word. 'Painful' worked a
little better, but I think 'agonizing' was probably the best
description. Every little therapy session we went through was
absolutely agonizing, so much so that at the end of each session I
had helpless tears streaming down my cheeks and I could barely
hobble back to my quarters. Agonizing enough that I began to dread
my therapy and I flinched whenever Qui-Gon touched my knee, even
lightly.
After one particularly grueling session I was walking back to our
quarters with my master. All right, -he- was walking. In my case,
limping was probably closer to the truth, although I hid it as well
as I could until I got back to my own room. I managed to strip down
to my shorts before I collapsed on my bed and let the tears I'd been
holding back flow.
Not two minutes after I'd closed the door it was opened again by my
master, who walked right in without even an 'excuse me'. I sat up,
scrubbing at my face hastily with the back of my hand but Qui-Gon
said nothing. He simple walked over to the bed, carrying a decent
sized basin and he sat it on the floor before kneeling down next to
the bed.
He still didn't speak but he lifted something from the basin. A
towel? He wrung out the excess water before settling it on my knee.
I'd already pulled away a tiny bit out of reflex but the second the
wet heat from that towel registered I nearly melted into the bed.
Nothing had ever felt as wonderful to me as that damp, hot towel did
at that moment. I nearly moaned aloud as some of the ever-present
pain in my knee finally eased.
For the next half-hour or so neither of us spoke. Qui-Gon changed
the towels every time they grew cool, working quietly and
efficiently and I just lay there as limp as a rag doll. A rampaging
bantha could have burst in at that moment and I would have had to
let it trample me because I couldn't move to save my life.
And then the towels were removed and my pleasure reached a new
zenith as Qui-Gon's hands replaced them. His fingers were slick with
some kind of sweet smelling oil that he must have brought with him
and they moved over my leg knowingly, touching in just the right
spots to ease tension and pain. I did groan then but by then, I was
too far-gone to care.
This, however, wasn't exactly as relaxing as the towels had been. In
fact, then tension in my knee was turning into an entirely different
kind of tension.
Contrary to popular belief, I'm not exactly innocent and neither am
I blind. My master is an extremely attractive man, a fact that I
became aware of about five years ago when puberty hit. I'd hid my
attraction then and I was still hiding it now even though it was
plain that lust had over the years changed into something a lot
closer to love. I couldn't speak of it, not while I was still his
Padawan, it wouldn't be appropriate and the last thing I wanted to
do was say something and have it turn out that Qui-Gon didn't feel
the same and then have him be stuck training me, knowing how I felt.
I would never want to put my master into that position.
And while my feeling may have turned towards love, lust hadn't faded
one damn bit and if he didn't stop rubbing my leg I was going to
embarrass myself beyond repair.
I leaned up on my elbows and tried to pull away but Qui-on refused
to release me.
"I'm almost finished, Padawan," he murmured, his attention focused
solely on his task. I was about to insist but he chose that moment
to slide his hand further up my leg and massaged the muscles of my
inner thigh. And then it really was too late.
I closed my eyes, contemplating the possibility of terminal
embarrassment as my body betrayed me. But Qui-Gon didn't notice or
at least he was too polite to say anything because he didn't even
pause, just calmly continued working out the knots in my leg.
Maybe he just thought it was a reaction to being touched? I clung to
that theory hopefully. After all, his hands were quite near a fairly
sensitive area and a physical response doesn't mean that much.
In fact, a response was almost guaranteed considering where he was
touching now. His fingers had gentled considerably and now they were
rubbing tiny circles on my inner thigh, edging slowly upward.
I held my breath, hardly aware that I was doing so. He couldn't help
but see my erection now his fingers were only centimeters away and
moving closer still. I waited, holding perfectly still as if afraid
that if I moved the spell would be broken. How far was he going to
take this?
His hands halted a moment later and I exhaled shakily, unsure if I
was relieved or disappointed.
"Obi-Wan?"
It was only the second time he'd spoken since coming into my room
and it startled me a bit. I opened my eyes to find him watching me,
his hands still resting on my thighs and my breath caught again at
the question in the blue depths of his eyes, the same question that
had been hidden in the syllables of my name.
He was asking permission.
Probably a few thousand questions flew through my mind, some of them
for Qui-Gon and some for myself. A thousand questions but only one
answer.
I nodded and just in case he didn't see that I forced a hoarse,
"Yes," out of my suddenly tight throat.
His fingers resumed their journey upward, lightly stroking my belly,
my hips, my flanks anywhere but where I wanted him to touch and I
closed my eyes as a frustrated whimper escaped my control.
Finally just one finger traced the length of my hard shaft through
the thin fabric of my shorts and I had to fight the urge to arch
upward, letting him set the pace.
His hand left me abruptly and then both his hands went to my hips,
urging me to lift up and he quickly tugged my shorts down, leaving
me completely bare. And then Qui-Gon's oil-slicked hands were
finally touching me, one circling my cock and the other sliding
between my spread legs to gently stroke my balls, his fingers
combing through the coarse hair. I bit my lip, stifling pleas that
bubbled up within me as he petted my heavy erection oh, so gently.
Then the hand on my shaft tightened, squeezing gently as it slid
upward and against my will my hips followed it, arching up and I
could not have prevented it anymore than I could have stopped the
hoarse cry that was wrenched from my constricting throat.
He stopped instantly, the hand that was between my legs shifting to
my hip to hold me firmly down.
"Obi-Wan, if you want your knee to get better you are going to have
to relax and hold still," he scolded me. But how could I, how
-could- I hold still when his hand was stroking me with exquisite
slowness, stopping if I moved even the tiniest bit until I thought I
would rupture something trying to hold still or simple pass out,
completely overwhelmed by sensation.
I was lucky that he didn't hold my wild trembling against me because
nothing short of unconsciousness was going to stop that. After only
a few minutes of those slow, careful touches, I was shaking so badly
that the bed was quivering with me. My world had narrowed to hold
only this room, to Qui-Gon's oiled hand squeezing my aching flesh,
his other hand resting lightly on my hip and the almost irresistible
desire to -move-.
And just when I would have broken, my willpower burned away by the
heat of my need and I would have moved in spite of myself, he
stopped, pulling away completely.
No. It wasn't fair, it wasn't and I closed my eyes so tightly that
they hurt, my breaths coming in painful heaves as I struggled for
control. I couldn't move not even enough to touch myself and I
didn't want my release that way besides. I just lay there, biting my
lip until I tasted the bitter copper of blood to hold back the
scream of betrayal and frustration that was caught behind my teeth.
I was so caught up in the agony of my unfulfillment that I only
heard the faint rustling sound vaguely, in some sane corner of my
mind and I only realized that it was from clothing dropping to the
floor when I felt warm, bare skin against my own.
My eyes flew open to see my master kneeling on the bed, moving to
straddle me and he was completely and gloriously naked. And very
aroused. I had seen Qui-Gon naked before but never like this, his
cock hard and crimson, curving up his belly, the tip glistening
wetly and certainly he had never been on his knees astride me,
except perhaps in my wildest fantasies.
"Master..." was all I managed to whisper and I wasn't completely
sure what I had even meant to say, if I'd meant to plead with him to
continue or to ask if this was really what he wanted, that he wasn't
just doing this for me. But I certainly never considered asking him
to stop, never that.
And then my chance to speak was lost, Qui-Gon leaned forward and
kissed me, pressed his lips to mine with the same tenderness that he
had started this with, although in my frustration I was closer to
calling teasing than tenderness. His tongue very lightly traced my
lips, brushed against my teeth before he pulled back, feathering
kisses across my face to my ear.
"Don't move," breathed against the sensitive flesh of my ear and I
shivered minutely.
But I didn't move.
I held perfectly still as he slid backwards, his inner thighs
rubbing against my sides as he positioned himself over me. He
reached back and steadied my erection with one hand. I jerked
slightly, my control wavering briefly. I was so ready by now that
even that light touch was nearly unbearable.
He shifted his hips slightly and then I felt the tip of my cock
pressed very lightly against his anus and that soft, barely-there
touch was so exquisitely perfect that I was suddenly struck with the
terror that this wasn't real. That it was only a dream, in a moment
I would wake and the beautiful phantasm above me would vanish,
leaving me with nothing but an aching erection and empty arms.
But then Qui-Gon pressed downward, leaning backwards and I slid just
inside, my fears vaporizing like morning mist, the insubstantial
cobwebs of uncertainty burned away by the heat of desire, the heat
of his body enveloping just the very head of my shaft.
I opened my eyes, not even remembering that I had closed them, and
looked at him, etching the sight into my memory. On his knees over
me, leg muscles straining as he sought to lower himself a centimeter
at a time, his chest and shoulders rising rapidly with his breaths
and gleaming with perspiration in the diffused light. And my cock
half- buried inside him, edging ever so slowly deeper.
He moved again, pushing harder and I moaned as he gained another
inch. The oil eased the passage somewhat but he was still almost
excruciatingly tight and I knew that this must be hurting him, he
was biting his lip, his face taut but he didn't stop and it never
occurred to me to ask him to. A last push and I was all the way
inside and Qui- Gon went still, panting, and rested his hands on my
chest. Without thinking, I covered them with my own. I almost jerked
them back when I realized I'd moved after he had told me not to but
Qui-Gon caught them and held them tightly, using my hands for
balance when he finally started to move.
He raised up until I was barely inside him and stopped, hovering
over me like that while I fought the almost agonizing compulsion to
simply thrust upward and take. The very last scrap of my control was
tearing free from my grip when he at last sat back down with aching
slowness until I was again seated in his body's tight clasp.
Another eternal wait and he did it again, gradually building a
careful rhythm of deep thrusts and pauses and I let him take me,
would have allowed him anything in my tormented bliss so long as he
didn't stop.
Almost imperceptibly, he started to move faster, rising up and
dropping down now with some force. Everything had fallen away from
me by then, Coruscant, my room, my knee everything but this man
moving above me in the most exquisite torture.
Another thrust, hard this time and Qui-Gon threw his head back with
a loud gasp, his breathing quick and harsh and I was distantly
grateful that he was as affected by this as I was.
One of his hands, still entangled in mine, went to his own cock
which had been bobbing free as he moved and he used my hand to
caress the hard length, and I managed to rub my thumb across the
slick tip, relishing his startled moan.
He was moving very quickly now, pushing down hard, his control
slipping and with what little thought I still possessed I squeezed
his cock tightly in my fist, stroking fast and hard and he nearly
screamed, a loud outcry of pleasure as he came, thrusting helplessly
into the tunnel of my hand.
It was too much, the feel of his cock straining, spurting milky
fluid over our combined hands and my stomach. His muscles clenched
tightly, rhythmically around my cock, wrenching a hoarse scream from
me as I finally lost the battle and moved, arching my hips up hard,
once, twice and I came, a wave of sweet ecstasy cresting over me. I
tore my hands free from his, grabbing his hips and jerking him down
as I struggled beneath him, trying to get deeper still as I spilled
my seed within him.
Finally, the tide receded and I collapsed backwards onto the bed,
sprawling out bonelessly as I gasped for breath. Qui-Gon was still
hunched over me, his own breathing ragged and he was trembling
violently.
He shifted away finally, wincing as my softening member slid from
his body. I flinched when I saw a faint smear of blood but Qui-Gon
kissed me softly, distracting me.
"I'm fine, Obi-Wan, it's just been some time," he said softly.
I didn't know what to say to that so I said nothing, just snuggled
into the comforting circle of his arms, his chest pressed to my
side. We were both damp with sweat and sticky but I could have cared
less and apparently he felt much the same way.
"Master..." I started, then corrected myself, "Qui-Gon." It seemed
ridiculous to be so formal after what had just happened. Qui-Gon
didn't comment on it, just made a soft, questioning noise and
lightly trailed a hand down my side. I was tempted not to say
anything, to just enjoy this wonderful, languid moment while it
lasted but I needed to know.
"Why?" I asked softly, "Why now?" I didn't bother to elaborate, I
knew he understood and I held my breath, a little afraid of his
answer.
He was quiet for a long moment, rubbing his cheek against my hair. I
was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer but finally he
spoke in a low voice.
"When I saw you fall into that ravine, I think my heart may have
stopped for a moment. I pulled you back up and there was so much
blood, you were covered in it even in the rain..." His voice caught
slightly, his arms tightened. I was shocked. No one had told me this
although I realized I should have known. Any head wound would have
been very bloody.
A deep sigh. "I thought I'd lost you, my Obi-Wan." He fell silent
again and he seemed to be stroking my chest almost absently,
soothing feather-light touches that had me nearly asleep before he
spoke again. "I chose a life as a Jedi, as did you, and I would
never take back that decision but there is no getting around the
fact that it is a dangerous life. And next time you or I might..."
I didn't let him finish, twisting around I kissed him silent. I
didn't want to hear it aloud, ever, no matter how true it might be.
Qui-Gon's arms tightened almost painfully around me but I didn't
protest, just now I needed it. But he loosened his arms almost
immediately, gentled his touch and the kiss until I pulled away with
a sigh and rested my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
"I swore that if you recovered I wouldn't wait any longer. I would
just tell you how I felt," he said and then I felt his chest vibrate
under my ear with a low chuckle. "There just never seemed to be a
good time to bring it up, although perhaps showing you worked just
as well."
"I'm glad you showed me," I murmured. Sleep was looming closer by
the second and I barely felt the soft brush of a kiss against my
cheek.
"I'm glad as well. Besides, it took your mind off your knee."
I groaned mentally at his words, too tired to make a more verbal
response and instead I slid in just a little closer. My knee
throbbed just slightly, as if Qui-Gon's words had reminded it but
not so badly that I couldn't ignore it and I let sleep drift a bit
closer. I did miss my nice, healthy knee, but I would take what I
had gotten in exchange any day.
-finis-
Comments and questions to:
mailto:keelywolfe@gmail.com
Back