Rating: NC17
Summary: A continuation of Love and Pride. Obi-Wan returns to you, but he is nursing more than just physical wounds.
Feedback: Gods, yes! I'm terribly insecure, and if I don't get much feedback, I think I may just take the whole folder with all my fiction in it and drag to the ol' Trash Can.
Disclaimer: No matter how much I have tried to convince LucasFilms otherwise, I do not own a single scrap of the Star Wars Universe-not even a copy of episodes 4, 5, and 6. The whole kit and caboodle belongs to G*d King Lucas. Please don't sue me, as all you will get will be an extensive collection of Highlander: The Series memorabilia, and two disgruntled cats.
Archive: Temple Library, www.templevoices.com, OKEB. Anywhere else, lemme know - I can even program the HTML file for you.
Notes: They say angst is a way for the writer to work out things in their mind. I think I just like feeling depressed. Either that, or I just wanted an excuse to write some angsty smut.
Disjecta Membra = (Latin) scattered remains.
Sections in between dashes are memories (as in -"Use the Force, young Padawan," Qui-Gon told him on their first day of training.-). // Denotes a message sent through a telepathic link.
As you walk past, it takes all of your will power not to look. The Box is sitting on your coffee table, in the same place that Obi-Wan left it. Even without closing your eyes, you can see The Box perfectly, as well as its contents, even though you have not so much as touched The Box since that day two weeks ago. The day he left.
All of your energy is suddenly diverted to fighting tears, and you have to sit, because your legs suddenly seem incapable of holding you any longer. These tears have been flowing without end, it seems, since he left - since you told him to go. The tears you were fighting now slide down your face, one at a time, leaving large wet scars behind on your cheeks. You do not wipe them away, or even notice them as you remember that night.
"I… I think you should go, Obi-Wan."
"What?"
"Leave. Go home, wherever you call that. Just…just go."
He stands there for a moment more, regarding your back. Oh, please, let him leave soon, you beg every deity in the sky. If he stays much longer, you will not be able to resist throwing your body at his feet, sobbing, begging for forgiveness, swearing you can have one-sided love, so long as you have him.
But when your prayer is answered, you wish he had stayed. If he stayed, he would have been telling you without words that he did love you after all. But he left. Because he doesn't love you, and because you asked him to go.
But you had been so wrong. You had thought he didn't love you, and that he never would. You had suffered as quietly as you could, knowing that you could not ask him love you. But love you he did, as The Box on the table proved to you. The Box and its contents.
Still ignoring your tears, you close you eyes, and remember the way the diamond sparkled in the light, how it had made a million tiny rainbows that you could see even through your tears. You remember how tightly the note was wrapped, and how the paper had curled in your hand as you read his simple proclamation of love. Both will remain in The Box until Obi-Wan either gives them to you, or takes them away.
You are not sure how you know that he will return, but you know. Deep within your bones, you can feel his return, and look forward to it with a sense of fearful anticipation. You want him to come back, you need him back. Asking him to leave was the stupidest thing you think you have ever done. But when he returns, will he want to stay?
~*~*~
* Two Weeks Later *
The pounding on your backdoor jars you from your sleep on the couch. A quick glance at the wall clock confirms that you have been asleep for nearly ten hours; an average nap for you lately. As you shuffle to the door, a dull ache in your stomach signals that you are hungry. With a mental shove, you push the feeling aside. To eat takes too much energy anymore, as does dressing, bathing, or even crying.
But you don't care about that right now. All you care about is making the person who is pounding on your backdoor in the middle of the night go away. What you want is to go back to your couch, and fall asleep as you stare at The Box.
The person has resumed pounding on the door again, this time with so much force, it's a wonder that the glass panes in the door don't shatter.
"Alright! Alright!" You shout as you near. "I'm on my way!"
When you open the door, for a moment, you believe you have finally lost your mind. Obi-Wan stands there, framed by the night, looking at the ground as he leans heavily against the doorjamb. You realize you are not breathing, and let out air in a whoosh, only to stop again when he looks up.
His moss green eyes hold you frozen in place, and you cannot read what is behind them, though you once could. A single tear runs down your face as you open you mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, to whimper. But Obi-Wan speaks first.
"I'm sorry," he rasps. "I… I had nowhere else to go."
It isn't until he falls forward, and lands at your feet, unconscious, that you notice the blood covering the majority of his body.
~*~*~
You sit on the edge of the bed, and look at Obi-Wan. In the twenty-four hours since he collapsed at your door, you have been too busy nursing him to look. You have been so busy, in fact, you still wear the loose flannel pajamas you were sleeping in when he arrived. You have been cleaning, bandaging, feeding, and worrying for the past day, and now you can relax enough to look at him.
He is laying, naked, on your bed, covered by clean black sheets. His pale skin against the bedding, like a ghost at midnight, stands out as a worrisome reminder of how much blood you washed off his body as you removed his clothing earlier. He is asleep right now, as he has been for the most part since he arrived. You watch as his chest rises with slow, deep breaths. In the few times he has wakened, you have done little more than shove iron rich foods down his throat, hoping to help his body replenish all that lost blood.
Though you have fussed and bustled about his injuries, you know all you have to do is watch, and be certain that they don't get worse. Once Obi-Wan has rested enough, he will use the Force to heal his body. You just have to make sure he rests well in the meantime. After all, this isn't the first time he has shown up at your doorstep, exhausted and covered in blood.
The first time, you nearly died from the worry. After all, how were you supposed to know that Jedi could heal themselves? It was one of the few times you had cried in front of Obi-Wan. It was also the first time you had confessed your love.
"I love you," you had whispered as small, silent tears of worry slid down your face. "I don't want to lose you."
He had smiled gently, and placed a finger against your lips. "Shh…" he said, "I'll be fine. I just need to rest for a little while, and then I will be able to heal myself using the Force." //Don't worry, love// he sent to you through your link.
Once he was healed, Obi-Wan had shown you just how grateful he was for your help…
But now, you sit beside him on the bed, just watching. He stirs, and you go to get more food, thinking he is waking up again. You are halfway to the door when he calls your name. You once swore that he must have had a hundred ways of calling your name, filling each sound with exasperation, happiness, pain, or passion. You never could resist him when he called, and now is no different. In a heartbeat, you fly to his side.
As you cup your hand to his cheek, you realize he is still asleep, and apparently dreaming. His brow is furrowed above his closed eyes, and his mouth is twisted into that grim parody of mirth that which tears bring. As you watch, a single tear makes its way down Obi-Wan's cheek, leaving a moist trail that is so very out of place on the face of this Jedi Knight. He pushes his face against your palm, and moans your name again. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you gather your resolve around you as you move to leave.
You are unprepared for his attack when it comes, and find yourself pinned to the mattress by his solid form. You look at his face, and his eyes are now open, but have a lack of focus that tells you Obi-Wan is still asleep. He shifts, and moves in to kiss your lips.
"Don't…" he murmurs just before your mouths meet, "don't leave me."
The kiss is soft, sweet, pleading, and it opens that aching part of your soul. You realize that Obi-Wan is broadcasting his emotions to you across your link. The pain and passion he sends you are almost exquisite in intensity. Tears for the both of you flow freely from your eyes.
Obi-Wan lifts his head, breaking the kiss. He begins to kiss your neck, and he starts making sounds that are like small grunting noises. The grunts eventually turn into three words:
"I need you."
His hands slide over the planes of your body, touching you in all the places that give you greatest pleasure. Your first impulse is to arch your body into his touch, but logic prevails. He is still asleep, and most likely does not realize what he is doing, you remind yourself. And you two need to talk first. You begin to struggle against him.
Obi-Wan's hands do not even slow their caresses. He lifts his head, and kisses your mouth again, this time with hunger and need. You refuse his questing tongue access to your mouth, hoping he will wake soon.
"I love you," he whispers against your lips, and you are undone.
You open your mouth to him, and Obi-Wan instantly plunges his tongue inside. He coaxes your tongue to join his in the erotic dance you long ago decided he had perfected. You moan into his mouth, and run your hands over his bare skin, glad now that you undressed him earlier. Your fingertips tingle from the sensation of touching his skin again. He tries to touch you, but is thwarted by your pajamas. With a feral growl that once signaled the end of many a pair of your panties, Obi-Wan rips your shirt open, and plunges his hands inside.
The contact of his cold hands upon your breasts makes you gasp, but as his fingers expertly twirl your nipples and caress the globes of your breasts, your gasp is followed by moans. His hands move lower, and tug on the waistband of your pants. You help eagerly; each touch, each kiss, each second, is driving your need higher than you can stand.
There is no question of your readiness, so you part your legs quickly, and as he settles between your thighs, you guide his enormous erection deep within you. Slowly, so slowly, he enters, stretching your walls to the limit, as he always did before. Neither of you pauses to enjoy the sensation, though; soon you are thrusting together, your hips meeting with a grinding motion that makes you both call out right away.
Quickly, you feel the beginnings of your orgasm, and know Obi-Wan is not far behind; it has been far too long for either of you. As the first waves wash over you, you reflexively dig your nails into his back, most likely drawing blood as you start to scream. Loud, rough, short screams that have no resemblance to words tumble from your lips, and you feel Obi-Wan's rhythm falter as he pounds into you.
He shouts your name, and you know he has lost control, just as he does every time he comes. This knowledge pushes you even higher, and you scream his name as your walls milk him of his hot seed. You wait for the slowing strokes that always follow, but Obi-Wan stills above you.
You open your eyes, and see that his are horror-stricken. He swiftly climbs off your body, and kneels at the foot of the bed, his wide, moss green eyes taking in what just happened. He looks away, his hair hiding part of his face from you.
"I am sorry," he says, his voice containing a hard edge. "I did not come here to… do that."
You reflexively cover yourself with the sheet. "It's…" you start to tell him it is all right, that you had wanted it, but stop, looking for the words.
For a moment, Obi-Wan stares at you. Then he leaves the bed in a graceful movement, and walks over to the master bathroom. He stands facing away from you, his back rigid, his hand holding the bathroom door open.
"We need to talk," he says, his voice the flat, unemotional Jedi's voice.
"Yes."
He stands for a moment longer, nods, and then closes the door behind him. Just before you hear the shower start, there is the solid click of the lock sliding into place.
~*~*~
The water pummels your body as you lean your forehead into the cool tile. A replay of what just happened seems to be on a continuous loop in your head. You keep seeing how you must have looked to Obi-Wan when he was wakened by his orgasm. You'll be lucky if he's even still around when you are finished your ablutions. As a Jedi, Obi-Wan believes that there is an order to all things in the Universe, and you're pretty sure that screwing your unconscious patient does not fall in with that order.
But then, he has always been understanding in the past. Like the time you did exotic dancing for a couple of months, to help make ends meet. Obi-Wan was not pleased with the idea of other men ogling your body, and, in some cases, touching you. He had voiced his opinion, rather loudly in fact, and then backed off enough to let you make your own decision. You wound up giving up a lot when you stopped dancing, but felt better for yourself in the end.
As you lather and rinse your hair, you sigh as you realize that Obi-Wan has never been anything but kind, loving, and thoughtful to you. No matter what just happened, you know Obi-Wan will be waiting to talk to you when you are done with your shower. To think otherwise about him is unfair to him. It is as much a part of him, his honor is, as he is a part of you.
You finish your shower quickly, and dress in the bathroom. You had brought your clothes into the guest bathroom shortly after… after Obi-Wan woke up. You still cannot believe you let that happen. You should have struggled to wake him up, instead of giving in. One unconscious proclamation of love, and you were all but mounting him. You shake your head in self-disgust; you're a grown woman, for pity's sake!
As you dry your hair, you remember how Obi-Wan has always loved it. When he was still a Padawan, you were pretty sure he got a vicarious thrill from your long curly hair; he used to even suggest different styles for you to try. After his Trials, and after Master Jinn cut the long braid off, Obi-Wan had come to you, saying you would be the one to trim his hair from then on. It has barely been a year since that day, that day when your lover symbolically made the change from boy to man, but he has changed so much.
He used to be jealous. Oh, he never said anything, but you didn't miss the tightening of his jaw when you hugged a guy friend. And if you were going to spend time alone with another man, Obi-Wan would actually sulk - or at least, as much as a Jedi can sulk.. But he made it worthwhile, because when you would come home, Obi-Wan would make love to you with such a passionate intensity…
There were times, in the beginning, when you felt as though Obi-Wan were just an over-grown boy. But then you would be reminded just how much of a man he really was. Not just his body, which was always well muscled and a picture of checked deadly strength, but his heart, his mind. His Jedi abilities probably gave him an unfair advantage, but he had always seemed to know what you needed, and he was always so willing to give it to you.
You pause with your hand on the doorknob. Obi-Wan has never been any less than a loving, giving partner, and you seem to have been nothing more than a selfish bitch…
~*~*~
You join Obi-Wan in the kitchen, where he has already set out two steaming mugs of coffee for you both. He wears some of his clothing that he left once, telling you it would be good to have 'in case of emergency.' For a moment, you just sit, facing each other from across the table, trying to guess what the other is thinking. You take a small sip of your coffee, and regard Obi-Wan over the rim of your mug. He still looks like hell, but you can tell he has already used the Force to heal himself. The rest is probably your doing.
"We -will- talk about what just happened," Obi -Wan says, as he sets his mug down. "But there are other things I want to say first." He puts his hand over something you had not noticed before. It is The Box. Your heart begins to pound in your throat, making speech impossible.
"Since that day you asked me to leave, I have done a lot of thinking," he says, his moss green eyes meeting and holding yours. "I spent a large part of the first couple of weeks beating myself up for not telling you how I felt about you sooner, for not saying the words you needed to hear…"
-"I love you," he whispers against your lips…-
You mentally shake yourself, trying to banish the memory from your mind. "I… I understood," you say. "At least I tried to. I didn't want to ask what I didn't think was yours to give."
"But I had already given it, and you couldn't -- you wouldn't -- see it," he says quietly, and it hits you like a punch. He is right.
"I'm so sorry." Nothing else can you think of to say, though you know it will not be enough. "Will you forgive me?"
"I'm not finished yet," he breaks eye contact as he stands, and begins to pace the length of your kitchen. "I have done a lot of meditation and contemplation, trying to figure out where things got fouled up in the first place, which one of us screwed up first. Do you know what I decided?"
You shake your head as you look at your coffee cup. You wrap your hands around it, trying to regain some of the warmth that belongs there. It seems that all of your blood has left your body, and awaits the outcome of this conversation. You swallow, trying to fill the pit of fear in your stomach. You jump when Obi-Wan kneels on the floor beside you, and gently moves your face so that you are forced to look at him.
"It was both of us. My fault was in that I was too frightened to tell you how I really felt. There, I said it. The big, bad, Jedi Knight was scared to say three little words," he smiles ever so slightly.
"And I," you say quietly, having just recently realized this yourself, "I was too wrapped up in my self-pity and what I needed and what I wanted, that I couldn't see you telling me in a hundred ways ever day." A simple apology does not seem even close to enough. You know how it feels to be with someone who doesn't seem to understand you.
-"Love is a word that is thrown around a lot on this planet. 'I absolutely love this movie!' 'I love chocolate ice cream!' and so on…"-
-He doesn't think you really mean what you tell him daily? You stand, putting distance between you two, trying to give the shards of your breaking heart room to fly. You will not cry. You will not cry. You will not cry.-
"I wish…" you pause, working your constricted throat. "I wish I had listened to you more. Not just to what you said or didn't say, but to your heart. I'm so very sorry, Obi-Wan."
For an interminable time, he holds your gaze, as though looking for more. Inspiration comes to you a moment later, and you act before fear steals what little courage you have left. You put your hands on his cheeks, and lean you forehead against his.
//There is so much I want to express, but the words… the words are not there. Enter my mind, Obi-Wan. See what I can't find the words to tell you.// You tell him through your link.
Gently at first, you feel the touch of his mind on yours. You know your soul is laid bare to him, and are glad for it. You focus on your enduring love, your sorrow at his leaving, and your regret at being so callous to his feelings. With your soul, and without words, you show him your heart's desire, which your hear him speak:
"Stay."
~*~*~
The sunlight teases your eyelids, and you feel something tickling your ear. Coming more awake, you realize it is Obi-Wan's breath. The two of you lay in bed, spooned together. One of his legs is thrown over yours, and his arm is around you, hand gently cupping your breast. You lay there, just enjoying the moment.
"Good morning," he says, and you turn in his arms. His eyes sparkle as he takes a firmer hold of your breast, and then he kisses the tip of your nose.
"'Morning," you say, yawning. "I've missed this."
"Me too."
After you had shown him your heart the night before, there had been little need for talk. Together, you had walked to the bedroom, undressed, curled up, and slept. Sex had not entered the equation; it was for the sole purpose of comfort that you two had lain together. Now, though, you have a different idea. You caress his cheek, and press your body closer to his.
"I need to talk to you," he says, shifting away. "About what happened last night."
Your playful mood evaporates. You had assumed all was taken care of after your talk in the kitchen. Fear grips you, as you worry that he is not going to stay after all. You are acutely aware that the ring is still inside The Box.
"I didn't really wake until… until after," he says, averting his eyes. You let out a breath. "I just want you to know, if I had been awake, I wouldn't have… that is to say I never would have…" he trails off.
"What?"
"Forced you," he says quietly, and looks back to you. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'll understand if you never forgive me. I just-"
Your laugh interrupts him. "Silly man! You didn't force me," you tell him between kisses you rain down on his face and neck. "I am a mere woman, and who in their right mind would resist -you-?"
He says nothing for a moment, then leaps up and leaves the room. Still insecure in your recently rebuilt relationship, you sit up in bed, gnawing on your lower lip. When he comes back, he pulls you to the edge of the bed, and kneels on the floor, holding up The Box.
He opens it, and the heart-shaped diamond seems alive in the morning sun, but then, that could just be because of the tears falling from your eyes. Obi-Wan is beside you in a flash, holding you.
"I'm sorry, I'll get another ring. I should have thought first, since this one seems to have so many bad memories attached. I'll get another one, okay? Don't cry, love. Please don't cry!"
You shut him up by grabbing him by the hair, and kissing him soundly on the lips. "You silly, wonderful, perfect, Jedi! Of course I want this ring! It's perfect!"
You kiss him again, but without pulling his hair. He responds immediately by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, and moaning at the same time. You both fall onto the bed, a tangle of naked limbs and questing hands. He kisses his way down your neck, and caresses one breast as his tongue teases the tip of the other.
You moan, and arch your back in an attempt to get him to stop teasing. He chuckles, then begins to suckle your breast in earnest, which sends rockets off through your body. He pulls away, scraping his teeth along your nipple, then gives the same attention to the other. By the time he has finished, you are little more than a squirming mass on the bed.
"Obi-Wan, " you plead. "I need you, Obi-Wan."
His reaction is to move lower on your body, licking and kissing as he goes, until he reaches your curls. He looks up and grins at you.
"Later, Obi-Wan," you order. "I need you -now-"
"Patience, love, patience," he admonishes you as he kisses the insides of your thighs. "Besides, don't tell me you got much pleasure from last night. To my thinking, I owe you."
How can you argue with logic like that? You arch you hips, and place on leg over his shoulders, giving Obi-Wan full access to your folds. He heads straight for your bundle, licking so slowly you think you might lose your mind. You push into his face as you pull on his hair.
He lifts his face, and grins at you again. "Is there something you want, love?"
"Shut up and kiss me, Obi-Wan."
"As my lady commands."
He moves back in, licking strongly, circling, rubbing. You moan his name, and drop your hands, grabbing the sheets. His tongue darts in and out, flicking your bundle. He slides one long finger into your entrance, then another, and pumps them in and out in parody of what you really want.
Your moans become intelligible shouts, and you begin to thrust your hips as you feel yourself climbing higher. It is as though a coil of tension has formed inside your body, and all you want is for Obi-Wan to break that coil. When he moves his fingers just a bit, the coil winds ever tighter.
When you send tendrils of your pleasure across your link, Obi-Wan moans against your folds. The sound transforms to sensation, as it reverberates through your body, causing you to tremble. The beginning of your orgasm tears into your body, and you arch your back as the coil snaps. A million points of golden light flood your vision as your body freezes for a moment, and your heart and lungs cease working.
You are panting as Obi-Wan lays down next to you, grinning again. He kisses you, and you can smell your musk on his lips and stubble. He leans back, eyes sparkling.
"You ought to be more careful, love. If you keep broadcasting things like that, I might not be good for anymore action."
You laugh. "Somehow, baby, I doubt that. Now get over here."
He laughs joyfully, and lays between your legs. You lift your hips as he guides into you slowly, one millimeter at a time. You buck beneath him, trying to force him in the rest of the way.
"Easy, love," he grunts. "Easy."
Finally, he is fully buried within you. Slowly, he moves out, then back in. A few more strokes, and he stills. You rock beneath him, not wanting to go slow any more.
"I most definitely enjoy this better when awake," he jokes.
"Obi-Wan, if you don't shut up and fuck me, I swear to the Gods, I'm gonna kill you."
"Yes ma'am."
He obliges you by resuming his slow strokes. In and out he moves, making you squirm with pleasure.
"Faster," you pant.
He speeds up, slamming into you as his momentum gains. He grabs your hips to aid his thrusting, and angles himself to hit your sweet spot. You try to thrust with him, but the fireworks in your blood make it impossible to keep up, so you surrender your body to him, and grip his thighs with your hands. You feel another orgasm building, and marvel at how this man is the only one who has ever brought you to such heights.
"Come for me, love. I. Can't. Last. Much. Longer," he cries as his thrusts become wildly erratic.
"Yes! Oh, yes! With me!" You scream, your nails digging into his thighs.
Your orgasm hits, and your feel as though your entire body has gone super nova. Your scream mingles with his wordless shout as your tunnel contracts, and his hot seed fills you. Through your link, you two share the ecstasy of your mutual orgasms, and as his strokes slow, the world outside disappears.
He collapses on top of you, but you welcome his solid weight. For a few minutes, you just lay there, enjoying the sensation of him still being inside you.
"Wow," he rasps in your ear, his voice rough from shouting.
"Yeah. Wow is right."
Obi-Wan rolls off you, and reaches for something on the floor. You sit up, and he places the something in your hand. You look, and see the ring laying on your palm.
"I love you, you know," he says, looking in your eyes.
"Yeah. I know," you answer, as you slide the ring onto your finger.
<The End>
