The problem with prisons, Qui-Gon decided, as he found yet another
small rock in his quest to find a comfortable place to sit, is that no
one ever bothered to make them very welcoming. Although this one wasn't
bad as far as prisons went. The walls and the floor were made out of
cold, hard stone but at least it wasn't cold, hard, slime-covered stone
like a few others he'd had the misfortune to encounter.
Finally settling on sitting against the wall that had the least amount
of pebbles near it, Qui-Gon seated himself on the floor. Why was it
that he so often ended up in prisons when he went on missions? No one
had ever told him about this when he had decided to be a Jedi. Then
again, it probably wasn't a good way to get recruits. He smiled faintly
at the mental image that made. He could just see the Masters talking to
the Jedi hopefuls' parents. 'If you allow your child to become a Jedi
they will have the opportunity to see some of the more interesting
prisons in the Republic.'
At least this dungeon was unoccupied, unlike some other ones that Qui-
Gon had had the displeasure of being in.
"Master?" Floated to him softly from the cell next to him.
Well, mostly unoccupied.
"Yes, Padawan?" he replied softly, keeping his tone calm. No use
panicking the boy any more than he already was. Qui-Gon had been in
prisons numerous times but this was Obi-Wan's first experience with it.
Just as well that the boy get used to it now, it probably wouldn't be
the last time. If they managed to get out of this one, that is.
"Master, do you think we are going to die?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice
carefully disinterested as if his master's answer didn't matter to him
in the least.
Qui-Gon grimaced. Trust Obi-Wan to ask something like that. Another
glance around to room didn't reveal anything useful, nothing but bare
walls. There wasn't even a bunk to sit on, just the cold floor.
Surrounding the prison was a Force-suppression shield, illegal within
the Republic and yet strangely common regardless, Qui-Gon had
discovered. "It's a distinct possibility," Qui-Gon admitted finally.
There was a long moment of silence before Obi-Wan replied, dryly,
"Thank you, Master, I feel ever so much better now."
Even in the direness of their situation, Qui-Gon couldn't help but
smile at that. "You did ask," he reminded the boy.
"You could have lied!"
"Yes, I could have," Qui-Gon said agreeable, and this time a
disgruntled snort was his only response. They sat in silence for a time
and Qui-Gon was almost drifting to sleep despite the hard floor when
Obi-Wan spoke again.
"You know, you'd think that they'd be a little more lenient. How were
we supposed to know what was offensive if they didn't tell us? But you
make one little mistake and they are ready to lop your head off."
"All cultures are different, Obi-Wan, and they all have their own
cultural taboos," Qui-Gon replied automatically, picking absently at a
loose thread at the hem of his robe.
"Yeah, well, I say that it sucks."
Qui-Gon choked on a laugh at his padawan's words, even as he privately
agreed. "It does seem a bit drastic."
"I mean, I don't want to die just because someone thought we were
discourteous to their Queen." A pause. "Is it cowardly for me to admit
that I don't want to die?"
"Well, I'm not particularly enamored of the idea myself, Obi-Wan. I did
have a few other things that I wanted to do."
"Me too." Silence. "For starters, I really wanted a chance to kiss
Padawan Lanear."
This time Qui-Gon did laugh. "She is getting to be a lovely girl.
Although I wouldn't have minded spending some time with her master
instead," he mused.
Rather as he'd expected dead silence met that statement before Obi-Wan
blurted out, "Master J'neth? But she's...she's..." The boy hesitated before
saying tactfully, "I wouldn't have thought that she was your type."
"You place too much importance on looks, Obi-Wan," he chided gently.
"Besides, Master J'neth is a Tel'kian and that more than makes up for
her unusual appearance. And before you ask if you don't already know
what makes a Tel'kian special then I am not about to tell you."
He could almost hear Obi-Wan making a mental note to look that up if
they survived this.
They sat in companionable silence for a time, both of them lost in
their own thoughts. Qui-Gon had to agree with his padawan, this
certainly did 'suck', as Obi-Wan had put it. The boy was too young to
die like this, in a dark prison over something so very foolish.
Then again, one could never be too young to die.
A sharp pinch on his backside dragged a startled yelp from the Jedi
master and he scrambled away from the wall. Rubbing his wounded
backside, Qui-Gon frowned down at the small hand he saw poking through
the stones.
"Hey, there's a hole in the wall here."
"Yes, I noticed that, Obi-Wan," he replied a bit testily.
A pause. "Oh, sorry. Was that you?"
"Were you expecting someone else?"
"I guess not."
Sitting back down by the wall, Qui-Gon absently took Obi-Wan's hand in
his own. Obi-Wan grasped it automatically, his hand warm and a bit damp
but not unpleasant. Qui-Gon held it gently, stroking his thumb across
Obi-Wan's knuckles. A muffled giggle and Obi-Wan's hand jerked in his
grasp.
"That tickles!" But the boy didn't let go; instead he tugged on Qui-
Gon's hand, pulling it back through the wall. Qui-Gon allowed it,
stretching out on the floor and reached through. If his padawan wanted
this small bit of comfort then he could certainly have it.
"Your hands are so big," Obi-Wan observed, lightly exploring his
master's hand with his own much smaller ones. Qui-Gon stifled a
somewhat lewd response to Obi-Wan's comment, only to have his padawan
ask, "Is it true what they say?"
"What who say?" he evaded. Apparently he and Obi-Wan's thoughts ran on
far too parallel lines. He could almost hear Obi-Wan rolling his eyes.
"You know, what they say about people with big hands," exasperated
humor in Obi-Wan's voice.
"I thought that that was for people with big feet," he teased, drawing
out his padawan's anticipation.
A pause. "Well, your feet are pretty big too."
Qui-Gon snorted at that, shaking his head. "Obi-Wan, the only truth
there is about people with big feet is that they wear big shoes."
The boy was silent as he digested that, one slim finger still stroking
Qui-Gon's hand. "So, what you're saying is you're not..."
"Obi-Wan!" He was laughing outright now, squeezing his padawan's hand
with his own strong fingers. "Perhaps we should discuss something
else."
"Oh, all right." Was that disappointment he heard in Obi-Wan's voice?
Their brief humor faded and Qui-Gon shifted a bit, stretching his arm
uncomfortably to keep it from falling asleep. Obi-Wan was still holding
his hand and he wasn't about to draw back before his padawan wanted him
to.
He heard Obi-Wan sigh before he asked in an oddly subdued voice,
"Master? May I tell you something?"
Frowning slightly, Qui-Gon tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's hand
reassuringly. "Of course you may," he replied, faintly worried and
interested at the same time. Experience had taught him that being in a
situation where death seemed imminent often led to some very
interesting confessions, often ones that you regretted later. And what
could Obi-Wan possibly have to confess to him?
He waited patiently until Obi-Wan finally began to speak again.
"Master? I wanted to tell you that I...I always wanted..." he took a deep
breath before he plunged on, "Before I died, I always wanted for you to
touch me."
Qui-Gon blinked. This was the big confession? "Padawan, I am touching
you," he said slowly, flexing his fingers to emphasize his point. An
exasperated sound came to him from the other side of the wall.
"Not like this, Qui-Gon. Not as your padawan." Before he had even
recovered from the surprise of Obi-Wan using his given name he was
stunned again to feel the touch on his hand change slightly. If he
hadn't known better, hadn't known his padawan so well, he would have
thought the boy was -stroking- him...
He was going to question Obi-Wan but soft lips gently touching the tips
of his fingers stole the words from him. Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon
tried to ignore the delicate touches although it never occurred to him
to simply withdraw his arm.
"I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you." Spoken so close
to his hand that Qui-Gon could feel his padawan's breath against his
palm. He curled his fingers reflexively in a fist.
"Obi-Wan..." he started but Obi-Wan cut in.
"I know it's inappropriate. I know it would cause trouble, I know all
that. But I...I wanted it anyway. Ever since I went through the sexuality
classes I've thought about it. I imagined so many things." Obi-Wan's
voice was soft and shy and he was resting his cheek against their
clasped hands.
The boy was right, Qui-Gon knew. Anything like what Obi-Wan was
suggesting was inappropriate and would cause trouble. If anyone at the
Temple even suspected that a master and padawan team was involved in an
unsanctioned sexual relationship there would be in the very least an
inquiry and at worst, separation.
And yet, they weren't at the Temple. They were locked in a dark,
uncomfortable dungeon with no one but themselves, with their deaths
looming closer with every minute passing that no one arrived to release
them. Biting his lip, Qui-Gon found himself opening his hand and gently
touching the smooth skin of Obi-Wan's cheek before he murmured, "What
did you imagine?"
He heard Obi-Wan inhale sharply and felt the boy's tongue flick against
his palm as Obi-Wan wet his lips. "I used to imagine," he faltered
slightly, obviously embarrassed, before he continued, "Sometimes
when...when I touched myself I would pretend that it was you touching
me." His voice strengthened as he went on. "You have such lovely hands,
Ma...Qui-Gon. I used to think about what it would feel like to have them
touch me."
Qui-Gon breath caught as he listened to his padawan's husky voice
speaking to him. Lips ghosted over his fingers again and he let his
fingers touch them this time. The pressure of Obi-Wan's lips increased
and left Qui-Gon shivering as the boy sucked lightly on his master's
forefinger before he pulled back again and began to speak.
"They taught us so many things in that class, Qui-Gon." The sound of
his name on his padawan's lips was oddly erotic in its unusualness.
Without allowing himself to think of what he was doing, Qui-Gon slid
his free hand down the front of his tunics, cupping his hardening shaft
through the fabric of his pants as he listened.
"I thought some of them sounded strange, until I thought of you doing
them. I thought about how that would feel to be inside your mouth, all
hot and wet inside there and I...oh..." A soft moan cut off whatever Obi-
Wan had been about to say and Qui-Gon knew the boy was touching
himself, even as Qui-Gon was. He imagined Obi-Wan's face, lips parted
and moist as he panted softly, eyes closed tightly as one hand slid
beneath the waistband of his trousers while the boy stroked his
erection.
Qui-Gon squeezed his own shaft harder, his other hand clenching Obi-
Wan's. He felt the edge of teeth against his knuckles as Obi-Wan bit
him gently and he jerked in surprise, a hard pulse of pleasure going
through him.
"Master..." It was a moan more than a word and Qui-Gon answered it
with a helpless moan of his own. He fumbled his trousers open one-
handed, groaning as he freed himself from the constriction of his
pants, the pressure of his bare hand wonderful against his cock. He'd
only just touched himself before Obi-Wan began again, his voice
passion-roughened, as Qui-Gon had never heard it before.
"I used to wonder what it would feel like to have you inside me. I've
never done that before, not with anyone. Sometimes..." A soft grunt
interrupted his words and Obi-Wan's grip tightened as he fought for
control. Qui-Gon held perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe until
Obi-Wan continued, his voice strained. "Sometimes I would use my
finger, put it inside myself and pretend that it was you. I wanted so
much for it to be you...oh...Qui-Gon..." A soft cry erupted from the boy and
he squeezed Qui-Gon's hand almost painfully hard, whimpering
rhythmically against their clasped hands as he came.
Just listening to those sweet, pleasured sounds pushed Qui-Gon over the
edge and he came, spilling his seed over his own hand as he muffled his
cries as best he could, and Force, it was wonderful. His own touch had
not been so blissful in years and it was as much the caresses of Obi-
Wan's words as his own hand that left him weak and dazed, shivering
with pleasure on the hard stone of the floor.
Qui-Gon dimly felt Obi-Wan pressing frantic kisses against his
knuckles, sobbing breaths caressed his hand. Feebly, still trembling
with his own aftershocks, he turned his hand enough to touch his
padawan's cheeks and found them damp.
"Don't," Qui-Gon whispered hoarsely, "Don't, please, don't."
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan whispered, hot tears pooling into his master's
palm as he buried his face into the callused hand. "I'm so sorry...I
just, I didn't want to die without something. I'm sorry..."
Before Qui-Gon could answer him, the loud creaking of the door
announced someone's arrival and they both pulled away, quickly
straightening their clothes and standing as they waited the
announcement of their fate.
Walking back to their shuttle, both Jedi were uncomfortable silent,
settling themselves in their quarters as their ship took off back to
Coruscant. Obi-Wan had been oddly subdued after the Royal Advisor had
informed them that they were going to allow the Jedi to leave, not
wanting the difficulties that were sure to arise if they executed a
Jedi.
Qui-Gon had bowed curtly to the man and exited the prison without
another word, Obi-Wan trailing behind him. They were almost to their
shuttle before Qui-Gon had dared to look at the boy but Obi-Wan was
staring fixedly at the ground in front of him. With a mental sigh, Qui-
Gon had remained silent until they were aboard the ship and then he had
had no opportunity to speak because Obi-Wan had gone immediately to the
lavatory and had yet to return.
Settling himself on his sleep couch, Qui-Gon waited patiently for his
padawan to emerge. He had to come out eventually; even Obi-Wan wasn't
stubborn enough to remain in the bathroom during the entire trip back
to Coruscant.
Finally, almost fifteen minutes later, Obi-Wan came out, his eyes still
focused on the floor. Qui-Gon waited until his padawan had settled on
the floor at his feet before he finally spoke.
"Obi-Wan..." he said, softly, and then he hesitated. It came to him that
he had no idea what to say. What had happened could threaten their
teaching relationship in a few dozen ways. And it could strengthen it
in a dozen more.
Slipping one finger under Obi-Wan's chin, Qui-Gon tilted it upward
until he could look into his padawan's eyes. Not fear, as he had
suspected, but defiance glowed in those pale orbs and he could hear
Obi-Wan's thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken aloud.
'I'm not sorry,' those eyes said, 'And I'd do it again if I could. In a
heartbeat.'
Ducking his own head, Qui-Gon smiled, just a little. This boy, his
padawan, was, as always, reckless, courageous, and suddenly, to Qui-
Gon's eyes, beautiful. "That is my Obi-Wan," he murmured before he
lowered his head and caught Obi-Wan's lips with his own, even as his
thoughts lingered on the word 'my'. Obi-Wan gasped slightly, frozen
under the careful touch before he responded, hesitantly, and then
enthusiastically, almost bruising them both in his delight.
They'd have to talk to the Council when they returned, Qui-Gon thought
absently, pulling Obi-Wan up to sit on the sleep couch without breaking
the kiss. Because now that he had touched Obi-Wan, he certainly wasn't
going to let him go.
"Tell me what else you imagined," he whispered against the boy's ear,
and received a shiver and a soft laugh in reply before, breathlessly,
Obi-Wan did just that.
-finis-
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