The Buried Seed

Catnip (wcoomber@pris.bc.ca)

Archive: master_apprentice

Category: Plot-What-Plot, Romance, First Time

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Q/O

Warnings: Awful limerick ahoy

Summary: A response to Mac's challenge: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are escorting a young man on a starship going... somewhere. Our two Jedi have never considered the other as a lover, hasn't even entered their heads. So our lovely young man sees this as a challenge and a fun way to spend the trip - make these two uptight gorgeous men lovers.

Disclaimer: George Lucas may have created them, but Qui Gon and Obi-Wan belong to the whole universe.

Notes: Heartfelt appreciation to Destina and Ki G for incredible betas and unlimited patience. Extra thanks to Destina for trying to teach me the wonder of POVs. Any and all mistakes are either solely in the minds of the reader or my own :)

** Earth Voices by Bliss Carmen, 1916

Feedback: Please, privately





Two more days before they reached Senalta Ipsilon. Obi-Wan finished feeding the flight corrections into the ship's computer and hit 'enter'. He watched the passing stars for a short time before reluctantly turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

Adjo Keela happened to be that matter. The young Senaltan was turning out to be somewhat of a trial, to say the least. The Senalta monarchy had unexpectedly asked them to collect and escort the young man back to his homeworld. Since they were travelling to there to observe a treaty signing already, it was no extra work to pick him up. But after only one day his eccentric personality was wearing on Obi-Wan's patience.

The people of Senalta Ipsilon were known as high-spirited social extroverts, although normally polite, but the Adjo's unpredictable behavior was pushing beyond the outer limits of that politeness. He was truly testing the Jedi's serenity.

Keela hadn't stopped talking or moving since he boarded several hours ago, and Obi-Wan already had a pounding headache. He could add aching knees to the list after tonight's lengthy meditations on serenity and tolerance.

Their passenger was also an irrepressible flirt. At first it had been amusing to watch Keela's smooth advances and Qui-Gon's slightly embarrassed evasions - the great Jedi negotiator Master Qui-Gon Jinn being pursued by this aggressive slip of a boy who stood no chance of success. But the ice had slowly melted, giving way to a friendly sort of companionship between the two of them, which made Obi-Wan feel vaguely uncomfortable.

Not that Obi-Wan actually cared. Qui-Gon could flirt with or fuck whomever he chose - and did on the odd occasion. Their long association included knowing the general facts about each other's love lives, so the idea that Qui-Gon might fancy the young man was no shock. But Keela was so blatantly persistent in his attempts to seduce Qui-Gon that it was beginning to irritate Obi-Wan. He'd watched Qui-Gon befriend a multitude of men like Keela on dozens of different planets. Too soft-hearted to turn them away, he would listen to them and indulge them with his company for hours if they wanted him to.

Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled as he thought about his master. If oblivious had a name, it would be Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan had grown used to watching others compete for scraps of Qui-Gon's attention or the seat beside him at the banquet table. His master was dangerously handsome, endowed with a natural sensuality that ranged from "charm" to "exploding supernova," and Obi-Wan considered himself fortunate to be close enough to feel the residual heat of that phenomenon. Qui-Gon, however, acted like he didn't notice. Or didn't care.

Keela was just the latest in a long line-up of admirers over the years. He didn't know what or who Keela was back on his homeworld - it was something their royal liaison hadn't shared with them - but given the singular honour of a Jedi escort, Obi-Wan suspected he was a blood member of the royal family. Perhaps a younger son. Someone accustomed to getting anything he wanted.

Obi-Wan forced himself to think about the more mundane aspects of the trip. As he made his way to the galley for a late lunch, he made a mental list of the things that could keep him occupied over the duration of the voyage, both mentally and physically.

He could hear Keela's high-pitched laughter mingle with his master's pleasant, deep-voiced chuckle as he entered the galley, and he looked up smiling, expecting to share their joke.

Obi-Wan forced the smile to remain on his lips, but he knew that the surprise showed in his eyes. Even though he'd been trained extensively to deal with them in a diplomatic manner, he hated awkward situations. He barely managed a polite "Excuse me," before he turned on his heels and retreated.

"Oh hells," he heard Keela say far behind him, accompanied with the hasty sound of feet hitting the floor and clothing being rearranged. Obi-Wan slipped through the door to his cabin and closed it quietly behind him.

'Sun and moons, Kenobi, that was well done,' he mentally lashed himself. He sat on the edge of his bunk and sucked in several gulps of air while his heartbeat slowed to normal. He wasn't used to walking in on his Master's assignations. Nor to running away from them.

Something like a nervous giggle was squeezing its way out, and he squeezed his lips together and clapped one hand over his mouth. It was actually kind of funny in an awkward sort of way once he stopped to think about it. And he probably wouldn't push a half-naked Keela off his lap either, if given the chance. As he assessed the scene that was now burned into his memory, he had to admit that Keela had a rather nice figure. He was slightly smaller and lighter than Obi-Wan, and not nearly as defined, but Keela did have an enticing lankiness that looked as though it could lend itself to several interesting positions.

But his master... Seeing Qui-Gon with that intense look on his face, his hair in disarray and his clothing all rumpled... Now that was worth walking in on.

Not that he was the slightest bit interested, he told himself, as he readjusted the fabric stretched tautly across his groin. This physical reaction was understandable, given the situation he'd just witnessed and coupled with the fact that he'd been celibate far too long. He used to enjoy sex, and once his friends had accused him of going for a temple record in volume and variety, but it wasn't the same anymore. He couldn't even fake an interest in it....

The knocking at his door dragged him out of his thoughts. Ah, yes. His master with either an apology or a rebuke.

Obi-Wan rolled off the bunk and glanced quickly at a small mirror on the wall. He schooled his features into perfect calm and deference, forced his body to behave itself, straightened his clothing once more and opened the door.

"Adjo Keela," he murmured and gave a slight bow while managing to keep the surprise off of his face.

Not waiting for an invitation, the young man backed Obi-Wan into his quarters with one hand and flicked the door shut with the other.

"Padawan Kenobi," he said as the two sat side by side on the small bunk, "I must apologize to you for my behavior in the galley. I accept full responsibility for that... display. I don't normally assault my hosts in public, but," he continued barely pausing for breath, "truth be told, Qui-Gon was too tempting, and I just couldn't resist the opportunity. You must have incredible self-control, being so close to him all the time. Ghods, I'd let him have me in the middle of SenSpath's marketplace during rush hour if he wanted to!" He rolled his eyes and grinned at Obi-Wan, his hand still resting on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

The Jedi stared back at him, his face carefully neutral except for the diplomatic smile.

"Adjo, whatever occurs between you and Master Jinn is none of my business. You don't need to explain anything to me. I hope I am not being discourteous, but we really have nothing to discuss," said Obi-Wan, his voice firm and steady.

Keela made no move to leave and remained seated, peering at Obi-Wan's face. His eyes, Obi-Wan noticed, were a warm shade of brown with beautiful strands of murky green, offset by thick russet eyelashes that matched his short, curly hair. Yes, he was quite an attractive boy. And his attractive hand was moving provocatively up and down Obi-Wan's shoulder and arm, massaging the flesh and hard muscle.

"Adjo," Obi-Wan said, abruptly moving away.

"Call me Keela, please," purred the other man, moving seductively closer. "You are so beautiful," he continued, barely missing a beat. The hand left his shoulder and moved to caress a cheek. "Are all Jedi knights as stunningly gorgeous as you two?" he whispered as he leaned in to touch Obi-Wan's lips with his own.

If the Adjo had goosed him, Obi-Wan couldn't have jumped to his feet any faster. "I'm not a knight," the words sounded rather petulant as they left his lips. "Qui-Gon is my master. My teacher. Until I become a knight myself."

"Will you be lovers then?" asked Keela, leaning back on the bed.

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head and wondered briefly at the confused expression on the other man's face.

"Does Qui-Gon have a lover now?" murmured Keela.

The young Adjo certainly had a knack for keeping Obi-Wan off balance. It was as difficult a test as any his Master could have devised for him. Maybe it was a test.

"No, I don't believe so," Obi-Wan replied as he stared down at his fingers gripping the door handle. "I would like you to leave. Now." He moved to open the door for him.

"Such a handsome creature, your master. Don't you think? I can't imagine why no one has put a claim on him yet."

As if anyone would dare to, Obi-Wan thought stiffly.

"You don't have any plans for him, do you? There's something about him that drives me crazy. He has such intriguing eyes. And those lips. They taste like...." Keela narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, growling softly. "Have you tasted them?"

Obi-Wan turned away from the door to face him, breathing evenly. This was no different than facing your opponent across the bargaining table, he told himself. He stilled his thoughts and welcomed the peacefulness that it brought. "No," he said calmly.

"You've never wondered what they taste like? Or what it's like to touch his bare flesh? To inhale the taste of his nipples?" He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly, flattening his tongue between them before breathing in softly through his mouth. "His throat? To run your hand over that lovely rump? Or his....." Keela's plump lips tilted into a knowing grin as his slender white fingers curled into a loose fist over his belly to illustrate his words.

"No." Obi-Wan shook his head, as his peacefulness skittered away. "He is my master and my friend. I don't think of him like that."

"Really? I'll bet he thinks about you." The young man let his eyes wander boldly up and down Obi-Wan's body.

"Never," Obi-Wan replied, an odd coldness seeping into his voice. "It would compromise our relationship."

Keela stood up and drifted gracefully towards Obi-Wan. "So sure are you?" he asked. "I'd lay odds he watches you when you're not looking. Dreams of you at night. Wishes he could be more to you...."

Obi-Wan stood mesmerized as Keela slowly closed the distance between them. He watched passively while Keela leaned in closer, until he felt fingers trail lightly over the erection that had returned unnoticed. Obi-Wan jumped and tried to pull away but the door was already pressed tightly against his back.

Keela's lips quirked into an appreciative grin as the length of hard flesh twitched beneath his fingers. He leaned closer to nuzzle the Jedi's throat, inhaling his sharp scent of arousal. "So, who are you thinking about?" Keela whispered. His tongue lashed out to capture a bead of sweat, but all it caught was empty space as he was thrust away at arm's length. "Attitudes ruin relationships, Obi-Wan. Not sex," he chuckled softly.

Keela pulled his hand back and held them both up in surrender, still grinning. After a moment, he reached over and gently pried the tense young Jedi away from the closed door. He opened it and disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan alone to gather up his scattered serenity.

The young Jedi sat down again and stared at the door. If that was a test in diplomacy, he'd gone down in flames. Well, whatever the Adjo's game was, he wasn't going to play. Qui-Gon's respect and trust meant everything to him, and friendships that turned sexual seldom worked out.

It would be a long and difficult trip to Senalta Ipsilon, but a pampered princeling was no match for a Jedi. Even a Jedi apprentice, Obi-Wan told himself. And if Qui-Gon wanted a quick tumble in the cargo hold with Keela, it was really none of his concern. He leaned back on the pillow and pulled a blanket around him, feeling suddenly very cold and unsettled.

Qui-Gon was sitting in the cockpit, staring out the front viewport. How could he have let Keela climb onto his lap in the galley, he asked himself for the twentieth time. Of course Obi-Wan would walk in on them at that very moment.

Well, his apprentice had seen worse - although never from him. Obi-Wan was not easily embarrassed, but his face had turned the same shade of red as a Molokkan firebird before he'd turned and fled. He smiled at the image in his mind. He could still make his worldly padawan blush, he thought, as he softly laughed.

He heard Keela approaching and turned to face him. The young man had a careless smirk on his face as he flopped into one of the navigation seats, still looking at Qui-Gon. The expression made those deep brown eyes look even more provocative.

"He's adorable when he's flustered, have you noticed?"

"Hmmm?" That was the last thing Qui-Gon was expecting to hear.

"Obi-Wan. He's so irresistible like that. I could just eat him with or without soopaberry syrup." Keela stretched his arms above his head and slowly rolled his shoulders back and forth, drawing the thin, soft material of his tunic tightly across his still hardened nipples.

Qui-Gon paused a moment, unconsciously wetting his lips while his eyes were drawn to the close fit of Keela's light, silky tunic. "Yes, there are many who would agree with you."

"But not you? You're with him all the time. I can't believe that even you could ignore that luscious little package."

"Not so little," murmured Qui-Gon even as he recognized the trap he'd walked into, and his mind instantly began to look for ways out of it.

"Oh," Keela laughed accusatorily. "You have noticed. Well, I'm not surprised."

Qui-Gon called on his tremendous will to prevent himself from blushing. "I meant.... that nothing about Obi-Wan is little. He is... well-proportioned..." Qui-Gon decided to stop before he could dig himself in any deeper. How did he get into this conversation?

"Does he always bounce like that when he walks, or does he just do that around you? It's so sexy."

"Keela," Qui-Gon began. "This conversation is not appropriate...."

The younger man slid to his feet and instantly pressed himself against Qui-Gon, his hands roaming freely over the Jedi's lower back, slowly gliding southwards. "Then let's not talk."

The words of protest died as Keela's lips brushed against his. Qui-Gon floated briefly in an incandescent bubble as his fingers unconsciously raked through the soft curls to cup the back of the younger man's head.

Automatically, he opened his mouth to the kiss that followed. Their tongues stroked back and forth against the other in building pleasure until Qui-Gon pulled back abruptly.

"Keela," Qui-Gon began and then stopped again, searching for what he wanted to say. "You are an attractive young man, and very appealing, but I cannot continue this in good conscience. Perhaps, under other circumstances ... "

"But... You're not seeing Obi-Wan, are you?"

"No, of course not. Not romantically. We are bound to each other as friends and as Jedi, but that is all. That is enough. We trust each other implicitly, and I would do nothing to breach that."

"Do you love him?"

Qui-Gon ignored his discomfort with the subject as he sought an answer. "Perhaps. But only platonically, as two dear friends."

"And sex?"

"It would only complicate a relationship such as ours, Keela. As Jedi we must be able to think clearly in all situations. When one introduces sex to a relationship, decisions become motivated by self-serving emotions instead of logic and personal needs take priority over duty."

"This has been your experience?"

Qui-Gon sighed softly. "I have seen it happen before. With others."

"And you can't imagine that sharing bodies as well as hearts could make two people stronger in their devotion to duty, and to each other. Is sex separate from love?"

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond and then shut it. He gazed past Keela at the stars beyond the viewport, a slight frown marring his face. "What is your interest in Obi-Wan and myself?" he asked, answering with a question of his own.

"Oh, nothing," answered Keela. "You mean this conversation? Just arguing for the sake of an argument." He paused and looked intently at Qui-Gon. "You love him but you won't have sex with him? Would you have sex with him if you didn't love him?"

The Jedi shook his head. He and his student already shared a bond that was both unusually strong and deep, and Qui-Gon felt closer to Obi-Wan than he ever had to anyone else. If he had to choose a lover, he supposed it wouldn't be difficult to take his relationship with Obi-Wan one step further, but not under these circumstances.

"So, you don't want to have sex with him under any circumstances?"

Qui-Gon remained silent but his eyes shifted slightly as he watched the stars and thought about the question.

"I have seen hundreds of beings who combine love, sex and work, and do it exceedingly well," Keela's voice pulled Qui-Gon out of his thoughts and he looked at the younger man. "For instance, it is common for the warriors of Ipsilon Minor to bond with each other as well as fight together. And they're said to be among the best and fiercest warriors of any world, because they fight out of honour and love for each other as well as their people."

Keela cocked his head to the right and peered intently at Qui-Gon until the older man looked away.

Qui-Gon had heard of the reputation of the Impator Guards of Ipsilon Minor, who had not been defeated in 300 years. It was said that their love and fierce protectiveness of each other made them formidable opponents.

But he could not picture Obi-Wan and himself in that situation.

His beautiful young padawan always had his choice of desirable partners wherever they went, and he wouldn't begrudge him that. There was never any indication that he desired Qui-Gon.

His padawan had never so much as even had the requisite crush on his master. Just a bit of the usual hero-worship that seemed to fade and disappear before Obi-Wan was 18. When Qui-Gon finally got around to giving him The Talk, his padawan had surprised him by telling his old master a thing or two about sex.

No, there was too much at stake. Their oaths of obedience would never allow it. Qui-Gon could never allow himself to desire his padawan, and he would not encourage those feelings in his student either.

Obi-Wan hadn't realized how hard he was concentrating on his reading until the knock on his door had him off the bed and on his feet before his brain could register the noise.

"Obi-Wan, may I come in?" It was Qui-Gon.

He opened the door quietly and stood to one side while Qui-Gon slipped past him into the room. The young Jedi wandered back to his perch on the bunk while Qui-Gon claimed the only chair in the room. All that separated them was a few feet and a polite silence.

What do his lips taste like? The query, fleeting and unbidden, had Obi-Wan staring at the pink ridges of flesh that hid beneath his master's beard and moustache as he waited for him to speak.

Abruptly, they both began at the same time....

"Master, I'm sorry, I....."

"I owe you an...."

Qui-Gon held up his hand to speak, the faintest smile replacing the worry in his eyes. "Let me speak, padawan." The older man took a deep breath and started again. "I owe you an apology for what happened in the galley earlier. It was inexcusable, and I would never....."

"No, it's all right," Obi-Wan cut him off with deprecatory smile. "I may have overreacted."

Qui-Gon smiled and reached over to give his braid an affectionate tug, stroking it lightly with his thumb and forefinger before letting it go. "I understand Keela has already spoken to you about it."

Obi-Wan struggled silently against the icy fingers he felt tightening around his heart. What had Keela told his master? That Obi-Wan had been led down the garden path into an embarrassing situation against his will like an untrained initiate? How he had committed a diplomatic faux pas with visiting royalty that could have very serious repercussions in a different situation? He steeled himself for Qui-Gon's inevitable reprimand.

"I am also led to believe that you two have come to a personal understanding," Qui-Gon continued.

"Yes master," Obi-Wan answered as despair wrung all hope from his words. An understanding, he hoped, that Keela would never bring up the subject of Obi-Wan's relationship with his master again.

His teacher's face seemed to pale very slightly as Obi-Wan watched, but it passed so quickly that he blamed it on the fluctuation of the overhead lights.

"Very well," Qui-Gon said, placing his hand lightly on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I will let you get back to your studies."

Obi-Wan remained seated as his master left, feeling slightly confused and ill at ease. That conversation hadn't gone at all like he'd expected it to. It felt as though they had been talking about two different things. Maybe Keela hadn't told his master, after all.

He picked up his datapad and stared at it for a moment before tossing it back down on the bed. Suddenly he found the stillness distracting and unwelcome, as though someone had switched off the sun. He missed the bright colours and cheerful sounds that accompanied Qui-Gon's physical presence.

Obi-Wan snorted quietly into the empty room, listening as the sound dissipated into the thin air. Funny how much more alive he felt whenever he was with Qui-Gon. Well, not really that funny, considering how much time they spent together. Neither of them had much in the way of friends at the temple, so even their social time was spent more often than not in each other's pockets.

Why had Keela asked him if he and Qui-Gon would become lovers once he became a knight? Obi-Wan slumped against the wall next to his bunk. The thought of being separated from his master after his eventual knighting always left him feeling empty and depressed, and usually he went out of his way to avoid thinking about it. Even now he tried to push the unwanted musings out of his mind, but they persisted in tunnelling deeply into its unacknowledged realms.

His master had never brought up their eventual separation. They'd never discussed what would happen to them - to him - once he'd passed his Trials. Obi-Wan knew it was cowardice on his part that prevented him from asking about it, because he really didn't want to hear the answer. He didn't want confirmation that he would lose the man who was his anchor, his standard for excellence, the voice in his head that kept him from being alone and kept him from giving up whenever he felt too tired to go on.

It was bad enough admitting to himself that he was terrified of losing that comforting voice but Qui-Gon would be disappointed in him if he knew of his fear, and that he could not bear. It wasn't fair of Obi-Wan to lay more concerns on his master's already overburdened shoulders.

It was the nature of the Order that Master and Padawan would eventually go their separate ways. Thousands of others had borne that same division over the years without anguish. He and Qui-Gon could still be friends and see the other on occasion. In passing. Until the passage of time quietly turned them into strangers again. Into two totally separate entities.

His master might even be looking forward to it, looking forward to a new challenge. A new padawan at his side to train, protecting and caring for Qui-Gon, replacing and erasing Obi-Wan in his master's thoughts, loving and being loved.

With a small sigh Obi-Wan cleared his mind and pictured the place he always went to find serenity - a grassy hillside overlooking a quiet lake at dawn, seated next to his Master. Qui-Gon told him often enough not to center on his anxieties. He would live the Moment and consider the future when it arrived.

As he always did, Obi-Wan carefully bundled up his fears and dispersed them into the Force. It was only a temporary solution, but it did make him feel better.

The insistent rumblings in his stomach reminded Obi-Wan that he'd missed lunch earlier that day. He looked up from his datapad to discover that his chrono was telling him it was time for supper already.

As he approached the galley, he could sense his master's presence as well as Keela's. They had started their meal without him and were happily engaged in conversation. Obi-Wan sat across the narrow table from them, helping himself from the bowls already set out on the table.

Keela was laughing, his eyes locked onto Qui-Gon, who was amusing their guest with stories of past missions. Obi-Wan ate quietly as he drifted through the solitude of his own thoughts, feeling very much like an intruder.

Get used to being alone, he chided himself. He was almost a knight, ready to strike out on his own, to serve the Order in his own way. He wouldn't have anyone to hold his hand while he did it, least of all Qui-Gon.

He chewed his food without tasting it while he watched with cool detachment as Keela placed juicy bits of fruit in his master's mouth and listened to his master's laugh as he shook his head in vain protest. The foolish smile on Qui-Gon's face belied his objections.

Obi-Wan made quick work of his supper and washed off his plate and utensils, painfully aware of the giggles behind him. He couldn't wait until Keela was out of their lives!

His back to the others while he finished his task, Obi-Wan silently mouthed the litany of serenity, breathing slowly and evenly. He was just about to achieve that calmness when a soft, warm, intimate laugh from his master sent it spiraling out of reach. He set his plate down on the counter a little harder than he'd meant to and felt their eyes instantly on his back.

"I think I'll practice some forms in the cargo hold before I go to bed," he announced without turning around.

"If there's enough room, I'll join you," Qui-Gon replied quickly, standing up from the table. "I could use a good stretch."

It was unexpected and so very welcome. His master wanted to spend time with him. Instead of Keela. Childish sentimentality, he told himself as he shoved aside the sudden happiness. His master simply wanted to go through some training exercises with him, which was completely ordinary. But knowing that did nothing to dispel the warm feeling that spread through his belly or the smile that he struggled to hide.

Keela fell in behind them as they headed towards the makeshift training room, much to Obi-Wan's dismay. Being alone with his master going to be impossible.

It was a small room, but there was enough of it for Keela to safely watch as long as he stood just inside the door. He watched, rather than listened, as they decided on which 'saber forms would be best suited to the tight space they were allowed.

The older Jedi began stripping off his tunics and moving into his warm-up routine. They had settled on two forms, which could easily be done without a lightsabre and required precise counterpoint movements. Good choices for close quarters. The younger man seemed to hesitate before finally removing his tunics.

Keela leaned his head back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, but he kept his eyes on the Jedi. They started slowly, stretching, getting used to their personal space, but in no time their movements were flowing together as arms and legs moved smoothly around their counterparts, each man deftly anticipating the other's moves. The room was silent except for the soft whisper of bodies passing each other, harsh breathing and the occasional klack of a boot heel.

He couldn't have looked away from the two sparring warriors even if the ship had suddenly sprang a leak. Limber muscles flexing across bare torsos won his particular admiration, but those bulging leg muscles beneath the clinging leggings were almost just as inviting. Since they were totally oblivious to his presence, Keela let himself enjoy the performance before him with all of his senses.

He closed his eyes and let the emotions settle around him, feeling the peacefulness and joy that flowed from the graceful dancers in front of him. Tendrils of rich blues and silky golden hues radiated from their bodies, and shimmering threads of silver and crimson bound them together. He opened his eyes and on their faces he saw tightly focused concentration that bordered on ecstasy as they passed each other within a hair's breadth but never touched, moving as one. Keela held his breath as he watched. They were beautiful in their perfection.

He watched Qui-Gon, drinking in the large muscular arms and the firm pectorals as the master moved his arms back and forth. His movements were confident and smooth, like the rolling swell of a calm sea. Each step flowed flawlessly into the next in a seamless pattern. It was like watching a gently flowing river, calm yet powerful.

Unlike Obi-Wan, whose motions were quick and sharp. He wasn't as broad-chested as the older man, but sleek and still very well muscled. Very well muscled, Keela murmured to himself with approval as he appraised the hard abdominals and the nicely-shaped gluterals. He was just a little too lean, but very flexible. He watched the young Jedi dart in and out, twisting and turning like a flame feasting on a dry log.

Keela was surprised later to find out that he had stood there watching for over two hours. He was so engrossed in the scene before him that he hadn't noticed it slowing down until the two Jedi finally stood still, bowing slightly to each other. The two men stood together, catching their breath quietly as they toweled the sweat off.

Qui-Gon grasped his student's shoulder firmly and nodded his approval as he accepted his tunic and belt from the younger man. Obi-Wan returned his smile and made his excuses for the night, wishing Qui-Gon and Keela a good evening. Qui-Gon caught himself gazing at Obi-Wan as the young man walked away, marveling at the cocky sway of his hips.

Qui-Gon then turned and bid Keela good night, relieved when their guest made no protest or move to follow him as he headed towards the ship's forward. He finished sending a brief mission update to the Council, and ten minutes later he was on his way to his cabin, looking forward to a good night's sleep.

The ship's design was plain and economical, cramming the most usage into the least amount of space possible. The four cabins were barely larger than some of the broom closets Qui-Gon had seen in his travels, but they were sufficient and placed side by side and across from each other.

With more disappointment than surprise, he caught the barest glimpse of Keela slipping into Obi-Wan's room as he made his way to his own.

Qui-Gon stepped inside and closed the door to his cabin with a heavy heart. Keela was an undeniably lively and attractive young man, and Obi-Wan's own immeasurable charms attracted potential lovers like moths to a flame.

He and Obi-Wan had no rules or restrictions about sex during missions. He assumed that Obi-Wan had an active sex life, but Qui-Gon had never received even the slightest rumour about his padawan's behavior during their time away from Coruscant. Or even on Coruscant, for that matter. Obi-Wan was very discreet. He also knew that his student was an honourable man with more than enough common sense needed to keep his activities from interfering with their missions.

He would sooner pull out his own tongue than pry into his padawan's private life. Oddly enough, although they had at times shared minute facts about their personal relationships, they had avoided discussing this aspect of their lives in any detail. This was in stark contrast to the fact that they had shared just about every other part of themselves over the past ten years as Obi-Wan had grown from a boy to a man.

The boy had been so open and eager in those early days, holding nothing back and giving his absolute trust and devotion to his Master. These days although still trusting and devoted, the man was much more self-contained, solving his problems without Qui-Gon's help. He approved of the man, but sometimes he missed the boy.

Keela seemed determined to bed one of them. He wondered if the young Senaltan appreciated his Obi-Wan's mischievous spirit and passion for life, or whether he just wanted a warm and willing body. Such a waste if that was all it was.

He wasn't jealous, he told himself again. It was only concern for Obi-Wan's welfare, and his wish to see his friend and student accorded the respect he deserved from others.

Keela's silly comments were getting to him, he told himself. There was no weight to any of them. Nothing had changed between he and Obi-Wan today, nor would it tomorrow. Then why, he wondered, were they making him feel so restless?

Obi-Wan toweled off his hair as he stepped out of the 'fresher and into the sleeping area. He looked up and... immediately shoved the towel down around his hips.

"What are you doing here?" he all but choked.

"I just wanted to talk to you," replied his visitor. A careless smirk crossed his face as his eyes took uninvited liberties with the other man's body. Keela leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs in front of him to make himself more comfortable on the bed.

Obi-Wan took a second to collect his thoughts before he opened his mouth. "It is impolite to enter someone's private room without knocking and asking permission first."

"But you didn't answer the door."

"Then you didn't get permission to enter, did you? I would like you to leave."

Keela remained where he was, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan - or rather, on Obi-Wan's towel. Even more specifically, on what might be under that towel. His expression was unchanged.

"If I went out and knocked, would you let me back in?"

"No. I'm getting ready for meditation and then sleep," Obi-Wan told him truthfully. "Please excuse me," he said, intending to open the door for Keela.

"You don't like me," the small, suddenly child-like voice whined.

Obi-Wan stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. How could he suddenly feel like the lowest form of swamp life when he hadn't done anything wrong? He took several deep breaths and turned to face Keela with the word 'defeat' stamped across his forehead. "I don't...."

"I need some advice."

Obi-Wan nodded for him to continue.

"How would you... um, approach Qui-Gon?"

"Approach?" Obi-Wan resisted grinding his teeth together and carefully eased his breath out through his nose. He was keenly aware that he was standing in the middle of his room nearly naked, having a conversation about sex between his master and the lovely young stranger who was stretched out on his bed. He forced his hands to remain still at his sides as he shook his head. "I don't know, Keela."

"Well, what do you think he would want in a lover?"

Obi-Wan thought about the question, never taking his eyes off Keela. Maybe an answer was all that was needed to get rid of this pest.

The padawan had seen many potential lovers flirting with Qui-Gon over the years, but could not recall ever having actually seen him with anyone in particular. He really had no idea where his Master's tastes ran. How was that possible, he wondered?

How was it possible that he knew so much about Qui-Gon, from his tuneless humming in the shower every morning to his collection of those ugly little carved figurines - of which just about every planet they'd ever visited had some variation, but he knew nothing about his Master's love life? They'd even shared private moments of absurdity that no one else knew about... Like that time on Ap'lta when they were travelling by speeder and Qui-Gon lost his robe because he was standing up with his arms outstretched looking like a great gawky bird flapping its wings. The wind had carried it a significant distance by the time they'd found it. Far from chastened, they sat on the ground next to the speeder and laughed together until the tears were rolling down their cheeks.

Obi-Wan was chuckling quietly to himself when a slight movement from Keela brought him back to the present. And to the question he'd been asked. He coughed discreetly into his hand to hide, he hoped, his straying thoughts. In his head he quickly ran through all the things he knew about his master.

"Honesty above all else, I think. Integrity. Self-confidence. Generosity. Feelings that go deeper than simple desire."

The more perfect his master sounded, the worse Obi-Wan felt. He knew it was wrong and that he should be proud of his master's attributes, but he also knew that his own were flawed in comparison - that as hard as he tried, he would never measure up to Qui-Gon's standards. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, searching for warmth to stave off the cold.

"And you love him," stated Keela.

"Of course! "Obi-Wan answered curtly. "How could anyone not love him?"

"And you want him?"

"No. We are not having that conversation again."

Keela rose from the bed and moved towards Obi-Wan. "I saw him watching you today," he purred. "He wanted you. I could tell he wanted to put his hands on you," he whispered as he let his fingertip trail lightly over Obi-Wan's chest, scraping gently across one hard cinnamon-coloured nub, and down....

Obi-Wan grabbed the fingers that mocked him and thrust them away from him in a vise-like grip. Keela moved closer so that their hips were nearly touching.

"What do you think his beard would feel like...." Keela whispered. His lips hovered near Obi-Wan's neck, so close that his warm breath raised tiny goosebumps on the skin where the neck met the shoulder.

"Out," Obi-Wan growled, one hand opening the door, the other roughly pushing Keela through it. "Good evening," he nodded and closed the door. The last thing he saw before the door clicked shut was Keela's smiling face.

Obi-Wan remained standing by the door, trembling slightly as the adrenaline flooded his system. Unconsciously his hand slid up the side of his neck to scratch it slightly, the ghost of a beard making his skin tingle. He could even smell the familiar scent of his master lingering in the air.

Whenever he was upset about something, or sometimes after a separation from his master, he always found himself anxious to see Qui-Gon and be near him. Being close enough to breathe in that unique smell that clung to him always made him relax. It was probably the same with all padawans. Perhaps some type of parental bonding instinct.

Qui-Gon often indulged him in this, but he suspected his master's affection for him was no more than the duty of a master towards his padawan - the same affection that other masters showed their padawans. Still, he appreciated the kindness.

As Keela's comments echoed through his mind, an old forgotten memory rose to the surface. He recalled how he had lived in terror during his first few months as a padawan, of being taken away from Qui-Gon. The older padawans told frightening stories to their younger peers about apprentices who'd been forcibly separated from their masters and reassigned to new ones or kicked out of the Order altogether for falling in love with their masters. It had terrified him enough to cause frequent nightmares as a young teenager, and he swore to himself that no one would ever have cause to remove him from his master.

Obi-Wan made sure the door was locked before he lowered the lights and returned to the bed. He stripped off the towel and lay down, his meditations forgotten. How had Keela managed to fill his mind with so much turmoil after so many years, he wondered? Unless it was already there, waiting for the right key to release it.

Slowly, he stroked the half-hard erection that their conversation had roused and ran fingers over his aching nipples. But his own touch couldn't ease the cold, deep emptiness he felt. He gave up and rolled over on his side, trying to clear his mind and let sleep take him.

Obi-Wan was alone in the galley the next morning when Qui-Gon entered. The older Jedi took a quick appraising look at his apprentice, noting the uncharacteristic dark lines under his eyes. "You're up early," he commented stiffly, regretting the accusatory tone at once.

Obi-Wan nodded at him but poured tea into the cups he'd already set on the table without a word.

"Where's Keela?" Qui-Gon dug a little deeper. It wasn't like Obi-Wan to be so quiet.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Trapped in his room with no escape, I hope," he said, unable to mask his annoyance.

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. Perhaps Obi-Wan hadn't spent the night with Keela after all, he mused. He enjoyed that sweet taste of satisfaction in his mouth briefly before washing it down with his tea. Qui-Gon watched the younger man move around the tiny kitchen, preparing breakfast. Even in these tight quarters, just the two of them, his student moved so easily, using his hips to shift his weight so he could economize his movements. Keela was right, he thought with amusement. Obi-Wan did bounce.

"Why would you wish that?" he said finally.

"I'm sorry, Master. I find his presence a little distracting, and the ship is very small..."

"He is persistent, isn't he?" Qui-Gon answered, letting a slight smile curve his lips.

Obi-Wan released his breath in a snort but said nothing.

"Short of your suggestion that we lock him away, I think we're going to have to put up with him for a while longer." Qui-Gon paused and took another sip as he watched Obi-Wan set more dishes down on the table. "He cannot force us to do anything we don't want to do."

"I'm afraid he's been testing my patience," Obi-Wan admitted with the hint of a frown.

"Oh?" asked Qui-Gon, raising an eyebrow.

"He's been - " Obi-Wan paused, "rather uninhibited in showing his physical affection."

"How uninhibited, padawan?"

Obi-Wan sat down at the table and poured his own tea, clearing his throat. "Just some, ah, touching. I've been trying to be polite."

Qui-Gon sipped his tea while he quietly studied Obi-Wan's profile. His student was quietly studying the tea in his cup.

"He also wanted to know how to seduce you."

Qui-Gon's tea offered a return trip through his nose, as he struggled to re-swallow it. "I am very curious about your answer," he said at last.

Obi-Wan grinned. "I gave him my opinion of your best qualities. How he chooses to seduce you is up to him."

Qui-Gon looked into those laughing blue-green eyes and felt a pleasurable tingle that began in his scalp and crawled down his spine. It wouldn't be hard to sit here for the rest of the day and just stare into those eyes.

"Please don't give him any more tips, padawan," he chuckled.

They both turned as they heard Keela humming softly in the corridor outside the galley. The young man entered, impeccably dressed yet wearing the relaxed posture of one just tumbled from his bed. Morning greetings were exchanged and breakfast was dished out.

"Not a morning person, Keela?" Qui-Gon asked cheerfully. Keela replied with a shake of his head and a yawn. When he received no further answer, Qui-Gon turned back to his apprentice. "Would you like some help with your Bet'lun classical literature studies today?"

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when Obi-Wan eagerly accepted his help. It would give them both an excuse to avoid their unpredictable guest. And he felt faintly pleased that the young man still enjoyed their time together. Not that Obi-Wan had ever turned away his help with anything. But lately it was happening more often that he looked at Obi-Wan and saw a knight where his padawan had been standing, and he wondered just how much time they had left together.

Obi-Wan retrieved his course material from his room while Qui-Gon took care of the breakfast dishes. Keela remained at the table, scrolling through a newsreader.

For most of the morning Obi-Wan and his Master read and discussed the merits of Bet'lun classical literature, dissected its rhythm and debated its role in the greater scheme of things.

His master loved literature of any type and Obi-Wan could feel his happiness through their bond. It was like a warm and comforting hum. The sound of Qui-Gon's voice never failed to make an impression on him, but now that rich, melodious baritone rumbled in his ear, giving Bet'lun classical literature a beauty he could never have imagined by himself. The voice was hypnotizing and for a moment he floated on its soft deep tones through a different plane of existence where there was only sound and vibration and warmth. It was rapture. Once, he glanced up at Keela to find the young man staring back at him, lips quirked upwards in some secret amusement.

It was getting close to lunchtime when Obi-Wan finally put down the datapad he'd been writing on and stretched. "I can't think straight anymore," he announced, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "The Da-aalos don't make any sense."

Keela picked up the discarded datapad and looked at it. "Oh yes, one of my favourites," he said, almost to himself. "They're like geometric puzzles. The meaning of the poem changes depending on which pattern you form with the lines. This one reads best in a diamond shape..." And with that he quickly rearranged the lines. "... and also as a split-triangle. But the diamond is best."

He offered the datapad back to Obi-Wan, letting his fingers rub against the young Jedi's as their hands and eyes met.

Obi-Wan ignored it but looked at the datapad in surprise. He showed it to Qui-Gon. "There are seven classic shapes you can use, not including freehand," he said to Keela. "How do you know which one to use?"

"It's in the rhythm," Keela replied, and began tapping his fingers on the table to back up his words. "They don't all fit to every rhythm, unless it's a really good one. The good ones fit into several shapes, but their meaning changes slightly to fit the shape. Besides making lovely poetry, they're also quite useful for sending coded messages."

Obi-Wan looked at his master who wore one of his frequent enigmatic smiles as he typed on the datapad in front of him. Obi-Wan reread his assignment and rearranged the two poems into the correct shapes, nodding and muttering to himself with satisfaction a half hour later.

The young Jedi pushed his chair back from the table and palmed his tired eyes. He looked at Keela and wondered what other surprises were lurking beneath that vapid exterior. Keela's skill with the Da-aalos had reminded him that their passenger was a person and more than just a pretty face with behavioral problems. He resolved to try and make up for his past coolness by indulging Keela in what he guessed might be one of the young man's favourite topics.

"What type of poetry does Senalta Ipsilon produce?" he asked while stretching his legs under the table.

Keela lowered his newsreader to his lap and looked thoughtful. "We speak our songs and sing our poetry," he answered. "Not much of it is written down, since it is the sound of the voice - its inflection, tone and emotions - that count more than the words themselves. The most popular subjects are love, of course, and the creative lifeforce. Often they are combined."

The young man took a sip of cold tea and made a face at his mug. "There is one that I especially like," he said, his lips twisting upwards as he stared towards the ceiling, calling up the passage in his memory. "It's fairly old."

"Across the sleeping furrows
I call the buried seed,
And blade and bud and blossom
Awaken at my need.

"Within the dying ashes
I blow the sacred spark,
And make the hearts of lovers
To leap against the dark." **

Keela's face held a whimsical expression as he recited the lines from memory. He studied the Jedi, who were both looking at him. "But our modern poets are more practical in their subjects and have a gift for both images and simplicity."

"My coursework doesn't include them," Obi-Wan said with a shrug.

"More's the pity," replied Keela before leaning back in his chair. He concentrated for just a moment while he made sure he had the verse straight in his head. He sat back up and looked at them. "You'll like this one."

A young man who overly lusted
Was frequently open and thrusted.
He lay down with ease
And pulled up his knees,
For his teacher he thoroughly trusted.

Obi-Wan clamped his mouth shut, feeling the heat rushing upwards from his throat to his hairline. He didn't know whether to be insulted or not. He flashed a quick look at Qui-Gon, who was staring back down at his datapad and shaking with silent laughter, even though he bit his lower lip and tried to hide it. Then he looked up at Keela, who stared back at him with a comical grin.

It was too much. Obi-Wan snickered and shook his head. "I see why Senalta poetry isn't taught at the Temple," he grinned.

They lingered over lunch, still discussing the poetry of various cultures. Once the dishes had been put away, the two Jedi went back to the cargo hold to meditate and Keela returned to his quarters with a datapad and some poetry chips.

"Am I taking him too seriously?" Obi-Wan asked as they folded their robes under them and prepared for their face to face meditation.

Qui-Gon looked at him with a wry grin. "As I told you earlier, Keela is harmless. He cannot force us to do - or feel - anything we do not wish to."

"So, you wished for him to sit on your lap?" Obi-Wan bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth. Qui-Gon cut off his stammered apology with a wave of his hand.

"I was being polite," he said with a soft chuckle, using his student's earlier defense.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and shot him a look that Qui-Gon had come to recognize over the years as disbelief.

"I did not question you when the boot was on the other foot, my student. Should I believe you welcomed his... attention... despite your comments?"

"No, of course not. I'm sorry..."

"But he is a handsome young man, is he not?"

"I suppose," muttered Obi-Wan.

"But not your type?"

His student shrugged first and then shook his head.

Qui-Gon let himself stare into those eyes again, drawn by them, feeling that addictive tingle again. He wanted to ask what type, exactly, Obi-Wan might prefer, but he held back his words. "Let us meditate on serenity and the success of our next mission," said Qui-Gon, smoothly changing the subject. "Afterwards we will work on some contact training if we can find enough room."

The cargo hold hadn't grown any bigger overnight. The contact training lessons were mainly theoretical - toned down from their usual practice, since their normal hand-to-hand routine in this room would have had bodies crashing into walls instead of the floor mats where they were supposed to land.

But that was all right. It was instructive, even if it wasn't burning off Obi-Wan's restless energy, and he had Qui-Gon's undivided attention again, which was always good.

Qui-Gon stood behind him, using his right foot to nudge his legs further apart, while his hands twisted his upper body slightly to the left and down. He could feel his master's beard against the side of his face and smell the warm, earthy scent of his hair.

Before he could stop himself, he was turning his face into that thick curtain of hair, inhaling the fragrance of the silky strands. Qui-Gon pulled back to look at him, one eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression. Obi-Wan ruthlessly suppressed an embarrassingly strong urge to laugh.

"Sorry," he gasped. "Just stretching my shoulder," and he brought a hand up to knead the back of his neck.

Qui-Gon took his place in front of Obi-Wan again, their faces inches away. Obi-Wan narrowed his focus to the outcome of the lesson. At his master's signal, he repeated the moves they'd been working on for the past two hours, concentrating mainly on their footwork.

Obi-Wan hooked his left foot behind the older Jedi's ankle while dropping to the floor and pushing himself off with his hands. He missed his target but regained his feet easily and deflected an attack to his knees by launching himself upward in a tight ball. He should have struck again while still in mid-air, but didn't, and came down on his feet just long enough for Qui-Gon to sweep them out from under him.

Obi-Wan tried turning as he went down. He caught Qui-Gon off guard with one foot, bringing the big man down as well, hard on top of his right hip, and driving him further into the metal floor.

"Ow," Obi-Wan complained finally when Qui-Gon made no move to get up. If it hadn't actually been painful, Obi-Wan wouldn't have minded lying there, arms and legs akimbo, for a little while longer. It was actually quite peaceful lying on the floor. With Qui-Gon.

The weight lifted off his body as Qui-Gon rolled carefully to one side and stood. Before Obi-Wan could do the same, Qui-Gon's hands were supporting him from behind, lifting him off the floor and helping to keep the weight off his injured right side.

He felt his master's hand slide from his waist to his hip, probing for injuries, and had to stop himself from leaning back into his touch. Quickly his mind raced, processing the sensations of touch and smell and turning them into pleasurable feelings, but separating them from the entity he knew as his master. It was no different than any touch between them in the past, he told himself. And yet it was different. Something had changed. But, perhaps that something was nothing more than his own perception.

Suddenly the hand left his hip and the body behind him moved away. Obi-Wan hadn't realized how warm Qui-Gon's body was until the cold air rushed in to fill the space left by its absence. He shivered as it hit his thin, sweat-soaked undertunic.

"Can you walk?"

Obi-Wan opened mouth to answer, but nothing came out. So he nodded instead, bracing himself against his Master as Qui-Gon placed his arm around his waist to support him. The pleasant heat returned as their bodies drew together. Obi-Wan wanted to wrap himself around that warmth and let it drive the cold out of him. He felt a jolt of pleasure ripple upwards along his spine, followed by dozens of tiny tremors.

He turned to look at his master and saw that strange puzzled look again. "What?" he croaked. Obi-Wan felt the tension in the big arm around his waist, the muscles convulsing as if they were at war with themselves, and the more he stared at those blue eyes, the more they lured him into their endless depths....

....And towards those lips, so close to his own, moist and full and parted so slightly, looking almost sad somehow. Obi-Wan leaned into them slowly, feeling their pull, giving Qui-Gon all the time he needed to pull back, and was exhilarated to find them suddenly pressing gently against his own.

They were soft. And warm. And sweet as sun-ripened fruit. And they promised him a hope that Obi-Wan wasn't prepared to relinquish.

He could have stayed, locked forever in that kiss. But he had to know. Reluctantly, he pulled back so he could look into Qui-Gon's eyes. Those electric blue eyes that he would follow anywhere, and already had. He saw joy in them, as well as surprise mixed with confusion, but he knew he could make that disappear over time.

Obi-Wan couldn't stop the foolish grin that spread across his face.

Qui-Gon stared at him, trying to think of something to say, but his thoughts were racing through his brain too fast to hold on to. Instead, he ran one large thumb slowly across Obi-Wan's cheekbone, then drew him forward into a fierce bone-crushing hug.

He heard a muffled groan from the lips pressed tightly against his collarbone, and all but purred as the younger man stroked the long strands of his mane. One gentle but insistent pull on those strands was the only command he needed to dip his head closer until he could meet the soft, warm lips that parted so easily beneath his.

Qui-Gon loosened his embrace to run tantalizing fingers up and down Obi-Wan's spine, causing the younger man to arch against him unconsciously and then to laugh even as their tongues were introducing themselves to each other. The Force hummed brightly between them.

He skimmed his hands lightly over Obi-Wan's ticklish ribs and other sensitive areas, determined to prolong the beauty of his student's laughter. Qui-Gon had discovered Obi-Wan's weaknesses by accident throughout years of physical contact. The kiss broke off as Qui-Gon ruthlessly explored and attacked his trapped student.

The smaller body twisted and squirmed against him in delicious futility. Qui-Gon stepped up his attack until Obi-Wan was helplessly doubled over, his breathing harsh and shallow and his laughter sounding more like sobs as tears streaked down his face.

And as suddenly as it began it was over. Qui-Gon was panting with exertion, arms still wrapped tightly around Obi-Wan, but looking over his shoulder at the doorway.

"Don't let me interrupt you." Keela was leaning against a wall just a few feet away from them, his arms crossed over his chest. "I was bored anyway, and you two are much more interesting than poetry." Qui-Gon could hear the smirk in the young man's voice as the Jedi disentangled themselves.

Obi-Wan straightened and stepped away from him, his face once more a mask of calm. Qui-Gon was still reconciling himself to the loss of Obi-Wan's warm, lean body squirming against his own, and it was making him feel slightly off-balance. He could feel Obi-Wan's presence in his mind, bright and pulsing with arousal. It was disconcerting. And it was going to start driving him insane very shortly.

"I am going to get cleaned up and changed," he mumbled on his way out the door to no one in particular, "and I'll see you both later at supper."

Dinner was hastily prepared and eaten quietly. Keela carried on the conversation mostly by himself, his questions to the Jedi being met with short, distracted answers.

It didn't seem to bother the young Senaltan that his dinner-mates forced their food down in uncomfortable silence, or that his witty dinner conversation was going almost entirely unnoticed. He carried on with the ease of long practice, describing in tiny detail the wedding he'd witnessed days before on Ipsilon Gamma 7. In and around the wedding description, he divulged endless palatial gossip until the younger of the two Jedi stood abruptly and said his good evenings.

As Obi-Wan disappeared down the corridor, Qui-Gon rose to deposit his dishes in the washer, formulating his own escape in his head. There were things he needed to say to his student before any misunderstandings about the afternoon's events were allowed to grow.

He turned to Keela with a nod and left the galley, lost in thought as he walked towards their rooms. Qui-Gon stood outside Obi-Wan's cabin, feeling the peaceful comfort of deep meditation inside. It was an unwritten rule that meditation was never disturbed unless it was a life-threatening situation, so Qui-Gon returned to his own room to wait.

It would be roughly eleven hours before they came out of hyperspace, and two more after that before they landed on Senalta Ipsilon. Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his bunk, unable to forget the smell of Obi-Wan's skin, the feel of his hair against Qui-Gon's face, or the delightful shudders that his student's laughter had sent rippling through his body.

That beautiful laughter. How it had filled his heart, flowing into all of the nearly forgotten empty spaces, and forcing out years of cynicism and sadness. He needed to hear it again.

It had been such a long time since he'd truly desired another. And yet, while there was no one that he loved or trusted more, or felt closer to than Obi-Wan, he still harboured doubts. Could he risk losing all that? He closed his eyes and concentrated on the moment, feeling a vague sense of rightness like a bright golden glow from within that expanded until it filled him.

Qui-Gon was startled from his thoughts by a light tapping on his door. He knew immediately that it was Keela. The young man ducked into his room before Qui-Gon had a chance to open the door all the way.

He closed the door softly and turned around just as Keela's soft tunic was hitting the floor. Without missing a beat, the Jedi scooped it up and handed it back to him.

"Sit," he ordered, motioning to the single chair as he turned and seated himself once more on the bed. "And tell me what I can do for you."

Keela opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again with an awkward grin. "I thought we might resume where we left off yesterday." He began to rise but was stopped a determined look from the Jedi Master. He settled back into the chair, still holding his tunic in his lap.

"Keela, I am afraid that is not possible," Qui-Gon told him. "I beg your forgiveness for my thoughtless actions, but we cannot continue this."

Keela stared at him for so long that Qui-Gon began to wonder whether his guest had fallen into a trance. "I must speak to Obi-Wan before he goes to bed," Qui-Gon told him, "so I will ask you to make this visit as brief as possible." Suddenly Keela's lips quirked upwards in a grin and he rose to his feet. With a nod, he bid Qui-Gon a pleasant evening, and let himself out.

Qui-Gon shook his head in bemusement. Gently, he checked on Obi-Wan's mental state twice more before he sensed at last that the younger man had finished his meditation and was standing outside of Qui-Gon's cabin door.

Qui-Gon got up and hastily moved the chair closer to the bed before he opened the door.

Obi-Wan stood silently, staring at him with one hand barely raised to knock on the door. Qui-Gon could feel the faint hum of the Force as his student used it to explore the room, slight surprise showing on his face when he found that the room was empty save for the man in front of him.

"Master, I..."

Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder and drew him into the room before he could continue, guiding him towards the chair but not letting go of his arm. He could feel the eyes breaking down his weak outer defenses, sweeping over his face and the surface of his thoughts with the gentleness of a feather. Qui-Gon was unable to move or think while those eyes examined him.

"M-m-master...," Obi-Wan finally spluttered before coming to a confused halt.

Their faces hovered so closely together they might have shared the same breath if either one of them had been breathing. Qui-Gon felt the faint twitches of a grin betray itself on his face. His nerves had begun registering the slight touches along his arms, down his back and across the uncovered skin of his neck. Hands at the back of his head were pulling him gently forward, asking silent permission while drawing his face down very slowly until their lips touched. Softly. Reverently. Exquisitely.

Qui-Gon felt a simmering warmth flow through him, moving in waves outward from the centre of his being to his fingers and toes, ears and nose. He heard himself groan as a shy but persistent tongue sought entry to his mouth. It slipped inside, filling his senses with the younger man's arousing elixir. So familiar now, their tongues flirted and danced in mutual pleasure.

Somehow they had managed to move across the room from the door to the bed - a fact that only registered when Qui-Gon felt the edge of the bunk press against the back of his knees. He eased himself down onto the hard mattress, bringing Obi-Wan down to lay next to him. Still joined at the lips, the invading tongue was greedily exploring every taste, every curve and corner of his mouth, urging his surrender.

Qui-Gon finally pulled away, taking a quick lung full of oxygen before resuming. He teased Obi-Wan's chin with his tongue and teeth, enjoying the feel of Obi-Wan squirming and gasping beneath him.

"Obi-Wan," he said, reluctantly shortening his kisses so he could speak. "What did you want to talk about?"

Awareness slowly returned to Obi-Wan's glazed eyes. "I thought Keela was here," he said, turning his head to look around the room for traces of his rival.

"You wanted to talk to Keela?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice almost choking with surprise.

"No," Obi-Wan declared, quickly curtailing that assumption. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone." He pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. Qui-Gon sat up as well, waiting for the younger man to speak.

Obi-Wan stared at the hands that rested on his knees for long moments. Finally, he met Qui-Gon's eyes and reached for one of his hands, holding it between his own two. "I wanted to tell you that I love you," he whispered, almost too softly to hear. "I've been thinking lately about how much you mean to me, and I find I've had these feelings for you for quite a long time. It's taken me a while to admit this to myself." Obi-Wan gave a short chuckle and cleared his throat while nervously brushing his thumbs over Qui-Gon's hand. "I feel complete when I'm with you, and I don't care to be apart from you. Whatever you decide here, you've always had my heart and soul. If you want me, I would like to share the rest with you."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and released all of the dread he'd been harbouring about the feelings between them. Obi-Wan's admission had fanned the cautious flame of desire within him, and he smiled as the fire spread.

"My heart and soul," Qui-Gon murmured, brushing his fingers of his free hand through the soft spiky hair and settling on the slender lock of hair that sang of their years together. He drew the fine strands to his lips and reverently kissed it. Downward the fingers slid, skating past the end of the braid until they traced the edges of the rough material that covered the heart pounding with a tempo that matched his own.

Qui-Gon's rested his hands for a moment at Obi-Wan's waist, ordering their trembling to cease. He almost laughed aloud at himself for this unusual show of nerves, but he bit it back sharply and unfastened the sash that held his tunics together. He looked up into the beautiful face that mirrored his own emotions and knew that Obi-Wan was feeling the same jittery rush of adrenaline.

Warm, full lips brushed against his own, sucking first his upper lip and then lingering on the bottom lip before they traced the thin line of hair along his jaw to his ear, where the licking and sucking continued to feed his growing desire.

He brushed his hands across Obi-Wan's bare shoulders, sliding the tunic off as he did so. The younger man shifted his arms to allow the cloth to fall the rest of the way and Qui-Gon pressed his lips to the soft flesh that covered the lean muscled shoulders. It tasted faintly of salt and soapbark.

He nuzzled the exposed skin, leaving it damp from shoulder to throat as his palms rubbed mindless patterns against Obi-Wan's back. The hot uneven breath in his ear stole his attention and only just barely cognizant of the hands that tugged at his own clothing as well as his own unconsious compliance.

Qui-Gon couldn't tell how much time had passed when his focus abruptly shifted to his surroundings, and he surfaced from this sea of sensual bliss. They were both lying face to face and half-naked, taking turns at caressing and exploring whichever body part was closest.

Qui-Gon propped himself up on one arm and led with his chin, rubbing his stiff, wiry beard against Obi-Wan's flat belly and holding the young man down on the bed as he yelped and tried to wriggle free. He nipped lightly at the hardened flesh around the navel, taming the small cries that followed with his tongue. Obi-Wan's fingers combed through his hair, smoothing and petting it, begging for more.

Obi-Wan arched into him as he pulled slightly away, refusing to give up even the slightest contact between their bodies. He shifted their bodies slightly so that they lay face to face once more and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, holding him closely and simply enjoying the newness of the feel and smell of the body next to him.

Qui-Gon drew back very slightly to look at the beloved face next to him. Obi-Wan peered back at him through slitted eyelids and Qui-Gon suddenly felt himself falling. Air raced past him at dizzying speed, but he wasn't frightened. Just curious. As he fell, he felt his body stretching and dissipating until his essence was nothing but a shimmering cloud of vapour, racing towards a firey ball of unimaginable brilliance. He surrendered to the inevitable impact with complete joy and a sense of wonder. His soul's own annihilation was nothing short of euphoric.

He was free of his body's confinement, his essence - no, their essence - reaching across forever as each cell eased into one, completing each other. In the Moment they were suspended above time, in a place where there was no sound, no sight, no touch. They were two luminous beings existing as one.

Returning to the present was like slamming into a brick wall, both surprising and painful. Or, it would have been painful if not for the body twined around his. Their hips were still rocking gently together as they wound down from their peak, their bodies wrapped together so tightly around each other that there was no space between them. And still it wasn't close enough, Qui-Gon thought. Not as close as they had been but a moment ago. He felt tears catching in his beard while the rest of his sweaty body shook with exhaustion. They were both breathing hard, but neither was willing to give up their hold on the other.

"What was that?" Obi-Wan gasped without moving, his voice sounding muffled and drained from where his face was pressed tightly against Qui-Gon's neck.

Qui-Gon listened to their ragged breathing for a few moments before he answered. "I think we've just bonded," he said softly.

Obi-Wan moved just enough to look at his lover's face but not enough to separate their bodies. A dozen emotions flitted across his face but he settled on an incredulous laugh that ended in a hiccuping sob. Qui-Gon immediately reached out to comfort him, stroking his fingers across his cheek and wiping away the new tears.

Obi-Wan moved his hips slightly and Qui-Gon could feel the sticky warmth that marked the earlier union of their souls.

"Is all of our sex going to be like that?" asked Obi-Wan. He was smiling, but his voice was still shaky.

"I don't know," he said. He pressed Obi-Wan back against the mattress as he kissed him. He plunged his tongue past the parted lips and forcibly ravaged the willing mouth below him. He pulled away only so he could sample the flavour of the young man's throat.

"Will the Council separate us, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan barely whispered. A slight touch of fear clouded his voice.

Qui-Gon shivered slightly at the vibration beneath his lips. He closed his eyes as the thrill of it slid deliciously down his spine. Lightly he traced a path with his fingers across the skin over Obi-Wan's heart and then leaned over to gently kiss it.

"There are no rules prohibiting or governing a relationship between a master and a senior padawan. Not that it would matter to us now." His fingers were now teasing a hardened nipple.

"I want you so much, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon groaned at the sound of his name in that low, sultry tone. He looked up and drew his thumb across Obi-Wan's damp lower lip, leaned in and kissed him gently on each eyelid.

"Then I am yours."

Obi-Wan brought his legs up as he lay back on the bed and quickly undid his bootstraps. It wasn't easy getting them off without moving.

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and sat up to help him, tossing them haphazardly across the room. Once exposed, he couldn't resist running his hands over the bare calloused feet. He noted with amusement the slight tremors around Obi-Wan's lips that indicated his student's heroic effort not to move a muscle.

The temptation was too much, even for a Master. One hand clamped around the ankle holding the foot securely in place, while fingers attacked the sensitive areas.

The voice that had been low and sultry seconds ago now howled and pleaded, and the body that had been so tempting and eager now twisted and struggled as he tried to wrestle his foot away.

Accompanied by shrieks of choked laughter and creaking strains of the bed, Obi-Wan managed to win the battle. But the war was still far from being over. Qui-Gon surrendered the foot but straddled the lean hips while his fingers continued to search for new battlefields.

The fingers were soon followed by lips, then the lips were reinforced by a tongue. The squirming below him slowed to a more sensuous rhythm. Qui-Gon could feel his lover's cock growing and hardening beneath his buttocks and he felt his own hardness struggle against the restrictive cloth of the leggings he still wore.

Slowly, he lowered his face until he able to feel the softness of Obi-Wan's lips against his own, sucking and licking first the upper lip, and then the bottom, tasting them thoroughly before easing his tongue carefully into Obi-Wan's mouth.

A ragged gasp below him preceded the loosened arms, and suddenly two loving hands were mapping the contours of the bone and muscle of his back. Slowly, they drifted lower until they grasped and squeezed his buttocks, bringing their groins closer together. Qui-Gon gasped as he moved against his lover's rock-hard erection.

He eased his hand between them and worked his way down the body beneath him. Their lips still exploring, he slipped his fingers inside the waistband of Obi-Wan's leggings where his fingertips brushed the hot, slippery head of the younger man's arousal.

"Qui-Gon," groaned Obi-Wan, gripping his master tighter as he jolted upwards, grinding their hips together.

Qui-Gon rolled off to the side, turning his partner slightly with him. His lips found Obi-Wan's sweaty and hardened nipples, and he lapped at the salty skin around them in a lazy circular motion while his fingers deftly unfastened Obi-Wan's leggings.

The young Jedi arched and twisted under his master's caresses, his hands diving into the long, silky mass of brown hair.

The lips moved downwards, across hard, angular planes, wiping out any former memory of torturing fingers with equally torturing wet kisses. The kisses coaxed a different type of shudder in his mate, along with more throaty, less desperate, cries.

Qui-Gon was conscious of a deep and growing contentment in his soul. It was a feeling of deep satisfaction and fulfillment. A feeling that he planned to give more attention to. Later.

Obi-Wan was nearly mindless beneath him, judging by the uncustomary gibberish coming from him, and Qui-Gon grinned at the unfamiliar oath he heard as he dipped his tongue into his navel. He was rewarded with slow rhythmic movements as the younger Jedi ground his hips against him.

He migrated towards the sharp intoxicating musky scent that made him giddy with desire. He nudged the fabric of Obi-Wan's leggings aside, exposing the hard crimson flesh that beckoned to him.

Qui-Gon traced his lips over its smooth silky length before swallowing it, his tongue scrubbing away the semen from Obi-Wan's first orgasm. He fondled the heavy balls with his hand as he sucked noisily in a steady pulse, taking the shaft deeper into his throat.

Obi-Wan's shaky fingers touched his hair, careful not to grasp it too tightly, as the slim hips rocked back and forth, careful not to thrust too deeply. His soft moans turned to desperate pleas and soon the hands left his head and clutched at the bedding below them while heels dug deeply into the mattress. For a heartbeat, all movement ceased. And then his shuddering release left him gasping for breath.

Qui-Gon swallowed the last of the bitter cream and sat back, gazing with speculation at the boneless mess on the bed beneath him. He hustled the other man's leggings off quickly before standing up and stripping out of his own.

He smiled as he noticed Obi-Wan looking him over with an appraising look that threatened to turn his knees into jelly. He cupped Obi-Wan's face in one hand and leaned in for a slow, soul-sucking kiss, pulsing his tongue back and forth between parted lips. Warm fingers teased his cock before closing around it, brushing the sensitive underside from tip to root with a thumbnail. Qui-Gon lunged into the hand and softly grunted against the eager lips.

Slowly he broke the kiss and reached behind himself for a small jar of plant-based gel on the table next to the bed.

"Tell me what you want?" he whispered.

Obi-Wan rolled onto his stomach without a word, looking back over his shoulder at him with more heat than the double suns of Tatooine. Qui-Gon knelt between his legs, stunned by the sight of his apprentice spread out so wantonly before him. For him. He took a deep breath to steady himself and ran his fingers down the curving spine. He placed light kisses in their wake, nuzzling the firm young cheeks as he unscrewed the jar.

He warmed the cold gel in his hands before slipping two coated fingers into that pink, puckered anus. Obi-Wan moaned and bucked up at the first touch, and then pushed his hips backwards, swallowing the fingers into the hot passage as far as they'd go. The tight rings of muscle clenched around Qui-Gon's fingers before relaxing, slightly at first and then more as the fingers carefully stretched them. Qui-Gon used his other hand to rub the flesh just above the swell of his buttocks.

Qui-Gon lubricated and added a third finger, coaxing the tight muscles to yield, while eliciting an endless stream of small gasps and grunts from Obi-Wan. He worked his fingers back and forth, stretching and loosening, until he was satisfied that both of them were ready. Obi-Wan's noisy enthusiasm as he pushed himself back onto those fingers was nearly enough to bring Qui-Gon's evening to an early end, without his padawan's help.

He removed his fingers and leaned forward, spreading the cheeks apart with hands that trembled in anticipation. He slicked himself quickly and pressed against the prepared opening. It resisted only slightly before yielding to him and he locked his knees to steady himself as Obi-Wan accepted his entire length.

Oh. So hot and tight. So ready for him. He paused for a moment, quelling his own excitement and letting the sensations wrap themselves around him. He could feel Obi-Wan's own intense hunger mingle with his own as he dipped his head to lap up a single bead of sweat as it rolled down the young man's neck.

Obi-Wan braced himself as Qui-Gon started to thrust with deep, firm strokes. Obi-Wan soon found the rhythm, and they met each other halfway, the quiet sounds of flesh on flesh and hoarse breathing interjected with sharp hisses and moans.

Obi-Wan spread his legs further apart, inviting Qui-Gon to sink his shaft deeper within him. He reached with one hand to support himself against the wall in front of him, while the other hand reached for his erection.

"Let me," Qui-Gon whispered hoarsely, as he pushed away the hand and wrapped his hand tightly around his lover's heavy cock. It wasn't long before Obi-Wan screamed his pleasure as he came hard in Qui-Gon's hand. His thighs trembled with the strain and then gave out completely as he crumpled to the bed.

Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around the limp form of his padawan and plunged back into his heat - twice.... oh, yesss...., once.... more.... He shouted and tightened his hold on Obi-Wan as fire swept through his loins, shooting his heated seed into the loving body beneath him. Sweaty and exhausted, he collapsed, his body still shuddering from the aftershocks.

He opened his eyes and sucked in as much air as he could with Qui-Gon's full weight lying on top of him. Their heat and sweat had fused them together, but Obi-Wan was too sated to move. And too happy to complain. He hadn't expected this magnitude of love from Qui-Gon. Bonded? His body shook with the laughter he couldn't contain.

He felt Qui-Gon's weight shift as short bristly hair grazed the skin between his shoulderblades. Then the hips pinning him face down on the bed moved slightly and Qui-Gon's softening member slid from his body.

Obi-Wan stirred with a quiet groan and Qui-Gon rolled off to one side, leaving his hand on Obi-Wan's hip, unwilling still to let him go. Obi-Wan turned with a bit of effort, a lazy grin pasted on his face.

"Do I look as well-fucked as I feel?" he chuckled.

Qui-Gon laughed and pulled Obi-Wan back into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to his swollen lips. Drowsily he felt a blanket being tucked around him and then the arms were back, holding him close. Obi-Wan fell asleep to the warm whisper of soft breathing in his ear and the steady beat of the heart next to his own.

Obi-Wan awoke the next morning with a smile on his face and the tang of stale semen sharp in his nostrils. He raised himself on one arm and looked down at the sleeping face next to him and gave into the temptation. He swiped his tongue gently across the sleeper's lips, coaxing them apart and waking his new lover with soft, wet kisses.

Qui-Gon awoke with a sharp intake of breath as he opened his eyes and Obi-Wan stared into the deepest blue he'd ever seen. Arms slid around him and one hand slid up to cradle the back of his head, bringing him back down for another kiss.

Obi-Wan felt his heart fill close to bursting, and realized that he no longer felt the cold emptiness that had been part of him for longer than he cared to remember.

He felt a twinge of vertigo - not quite as disorienting this time - as his perception changed suddenly, as if someone had picked him up and set him back down looking in the opposite direction. This was his lifemate kissing him, not his Master. He would spend the rest of his life with Qui-Gon, as Qui-Gon's cherished mate - not just his student or a companion knight.

They showered together and afterwards dressed slowly, barely able to keep their hands off one another long enough to fasten tunics and yank on trousers, then made their way to the common area for breakfast.

Keela looked up from his light meal to greet them. His eyes drifted over them both and then grinned wickedly at them as they gathered their breakfast and tea and sat down.

Obi-Wan sighed. He wasn't exactly hard to read this morning. He couldn't get rid of this stupid grin, and he felt a little stiff and sore in some places that probably showed when he walked. But most of all, his love for Qui-Gon felt like a visible cord strung between them for anyone to see. He could almost feel it pull at him as they separated.

He looked up at Qui-Gon just as his master was turning to look at him and felt their new bond pulse. He struggled to resist the overwhelming desire to touch Qui-Gon, biting down on his lower lip and turning back to the table, but couldn't resist closing his eyes as invisible fingers ghosted over his cheek.

Keela was staring directly at him from across the table when Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Looking quickly for a way to forestall any questions or comments Keela might have, he was suddenly aware of how richly-dressed their passenger was that morning. Closer inspection also revealed the skilled and judicious use of face paints.

Keela wore burgundy leggings, loose around the legs but well-tailored around the hips, thighs and ankles. The material had a rough look to it, but it was a tight weave and no doubt expensive, and it begged a more tactile approach from curious fingers. It went well with the low-cut golden silk tunic. The tunic was held together at the waist with a burgundy sash that matched the leggings, and left open across the chest.

The warm colours brought out a healthy glow, even under the sickly lights of the ship. And the soft shades of the face paints made his eyes look bigger, more sultry, and his lips much more alluring. A strange presentation for a member of royalty, thought Obi-Wan.

"You look very nice today, Keela," Qui-Gon complimented as he sat down next to Obi-Wan.

"For my King, I always try to look my best. Especially when I am with him in public."

Obi-Wan finished eating and reached for the teapot to refill his cup, his mind already on the task of piloting the ship to the surface of Senalta Ipsilon. He rose from the table with his mug, and felt Qui-Gon's hand on the back of one thigh, giving him a quick, reassuring squeeze. He tossed him a grin and bounced towards the cockpit.

The landing was routine - Senalta was technologically average among the worlds that made up the Republic - and the air traffic controllers were quite proficient in directing them to their berth in the security-restricted area of the spaceport.

Obi-Wan straightened and smoothed his tunic one last time as they stood near the entry inside the ship, waiting for its computer to open the door. The Jedi were dressed neatly in their common wear, as suited the unofficial greeting of a sovereign ruler.

He smoothed the back of Qui-Gon's robe. His fingers lingered over the rough wool weave that covered the broad shoulders and arms that held him in passion the night before.

Qui-Gon gave him a knowing look over his shoulder that made his heart beat faster. Obi-Wan gave the folds one last pat before tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe and falling still.

Red flashing lights and a puff of warm air announced the opening door. Keela preceded the Jedi down the ship's ramp and straight to the small group assembled to greet them a few metres away.

One figure stood apart from the others, his relaxed self-assurance giving him the illusion of height when he was actually no taller than the rest of the group. His clothes were neatly tailored, the rich colours and fabrics accentuating perfectly the dark skin and trim figure. Black hair surrounded his face and lightly dusted his chin, and kind eyes softened the otherwise hard features of a monarch. He held out his hands as Keela approached, smiling broadly as the young man knelt and placed his forehead on the hands that held his own.

"My Adjo," the King murmured softly as they smiled at each other. He lifted the younger man to his feet and pulled him forward into a fierce embrace as their lips came together in a more personal greeting.

Reluctantly they parted, and Keela took his place slightly behind the King and to one side.

"Greetings Jedi," said one of the older men in the group, as attention was turned back to the two visitors.

Dressed in similar clothing, but with a milder demeanor, the man who had welcomed them turned to the taller figure and bowed slightly, introducing His Majesty, King Moyeels'ha ti Nyo A'Mardan. The other members of the party were introduced, with the Chancellor leaving his own introduction until last.

As soon as the Jedi were finished introducing themselves, the formalities slipped away and everyone broke into a relaxed chatter. Chancellor Keyeeln briefly advised the Jedi on the plans for the treaty signing and the subsequent celebrations. The full itinerary, he explained quickly, would be discussed at supper later that evening.

"Thank you, Jedi, for bringing my Adjo back to me," the King addressed them for for the first time, the gleam in his eye matching the grin on Keela's face as he looked back at the young man. "He has been away from us too long." He brought Keela's hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly to make his point.

At the King's signal, they exited the spaceport and walked to the awaiting transportation. The hovercraft was large enough to fit all nine of them quite comfortably. Its design allowed the Jedi an excellent view of the passing countryside, and the trip to the palace was pleasant.

"How was the wedding, dear one?" the King asked quietly, turning to Keela once the craft was motion.

"I took a holovid so you could watch it, but it was lovely," he confided, placing his hand on the King's arm. "Ealth and Palus were so sweet - I thought they were going to break down and cry before the ceremony was finished. Palus nearly dropped the ring, his hands were shaking so much... "

"They owe you their happiness for bringing them together," the King told him, covering the hand on his arm. "Such an odd little hobby you have, my dear."

Keela smiled to himself and looked at the Jedi seated across from him. He could see their bond vibrating between them now like a fledgling sun, young and strong. He saw ties between people like living things - some were dead and withered, others lived, but so many were simply ignored and dormant. Like seeds waiting for just a little bit of sunshine and affection to make them flourish.

Obi-Wan looked up and caught him staring at them. The young Jedi turned his head back to the passing scenery, but not before Keela noticed the flush starting to colour his features. He smiled to himself and relaxed back against his seat.

The trip to the palace was not long, and they embarked just outside of the formal gardens that spread out around them like multi-coloured carpets. The palace was built mostly from hand-crafted stone - the same stone that dotted the landscape - with two large, more modern-looking wings added on near the back. The building was an attractive, comfortable blending of old and new.

The gardens were neat and trimmed, containing both high and low shrubs and hedges of different hues and textures, carefully manicured to line the pathways and mazes. Some of the lowest hedges held back beds of bright flowers made up of riotous colours that threatened to explode past their borders. Several varieties were haphazardly thrown together to create a wild and exhilarating palette that contrasted splendidly with the more somber greens and greys of the shrubbery. It was a garden for the senses, made for strolling through.

A small trickling creek meandered across the crushed stone pathways, and small fountains, benches and topiary figures were placed at intervals along the way.

"This way, if you please," the Chancellor directed them with an elegant sweep of his arm. The foyer inside the main entrance was cool and spacious, and the calming sound of trickling water could be heard but not seen.

Once the evening's arrangements were explained, the King turned to leave. "Keela, will you attend me?" he asked the young man.

"If it pleases my King, I would like to escort my hosts to their rooms first. I will be with you as quickly as I can."

The King raised his eyebrow in amusement and smiled. "As you wish."

Keela led the Jedi through what seemed like miles of hallways before they finally arrived at their rooms. They waited patiently while the servants set down the bags and left with polite bows.

"Our nicest guest suite," Keela told them, walking slowly around the main room. "You'll like these rooms. Big soft beds, warm floors, thick walls... Not like those cabin walls on your ship. You know, they were so thin and you two are very noisy together."

He couldn't help but laugh as the Jedi attempted to maintain their stoical faces. Especially when he knew first-hand what boiled beneath that calm surface.

"Keela, just what is your relationship to the King, If I may ask?" Obi-Wan said.

Keela's smile lit up his face. "I am honoured to be My Lord's most favoured and venerated concubine. Thus my title, 'Adjo'." He dropped a slight bow to them. He thought he saw the briefest smile on Qui-Gon's lips.

"Then... then why...." The young Jedi was searching for the right words.

"Why?" Keela raised one eyebrow.

"Why were you...?" Obi-Wan shook his head. He didn't want to offend by using the wrong word.

"Flirting with you?" Keela shrugged and smirked. "Why not? I had nothing else to do. And you two were so.... well, besides damned attractive, you were so determined to ignore what was right in front of your eyes. I just gave you a little push. A bit of sunshine," he grinned. "It's a sin to waste that much love."

The Jedi were silent, speechless.

"You two are the most stubborn men I've ever met. It's a wonder that anything got through to either of you."

"But, the King...." continued Obi-Wan.

"Is very liberal minded, and I am beholden to no one. He knows that I love him, but that doesn't stop me from admiring others. Besides, neither of you had eyes for anyone but each other, even if you wouldn't admit the reason why to yourselves.

"Now, if you don't mind, I believe I am wanted elsewhere. I thank you for your indulgence, and I hope that I may return the favour while you are with us. If you'll excuse me... I'll see you at supper in about two hours? But, we'll understand if you're late." Keela chuckled as he let himself out.

The rooms were very tastefully decorated primarily in blues and gold, and very sumptuous in their offerings - much more comfortable than two simple Jedi were used to. The beds did indeed look inviting. And large. Obi-Wan had burrowed himself into his lover's arms the moment Keela had left, but he was still examining their room. Qui-Gon could almost hear him thinking.

"Did you know that Keela....?" Obi-Wan said, turning back to him.

"No," answered Qui-Gon, anticipating his question. "Although it would have meant little even if I had known. Keela's relationship to the King was of no consequence to us on the ship. And he obviously lives by his own rules."

Qui-Gon shifted closer and brushed the back of his fingers over the younger man's face to try and erase the pensive look he still wore. "You know, Obi-Wan, we brought the discomfort of these past two days upon ourselves."

Obi-Wan looked up with mild surprise written on his face. "Master?"

"I can't say as that any of this has really surprised me. What does surprise me is how well we've managed to ignore what the Force has been trying to tell us. It took someone like Keela to pound it through our thick heads."

"Are you saying...? You're not saying that Keela...." Obi-Wan looked faintly aghast at his thoughts. "That Keela..." He couldn't say it.

"That perhaps the Force used Keela to give us the kick in the pants we needed to get its message?" Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb across the furrow between Obi-Wan's eyebrows, trying to smooth it out as he used to when his student was a child. "Mmmm hmmmm."

"Keela?" Obi-Wan shook his head.

"Sometimes the message is delivered by the most unlikely source." He gazed deeply into eyes greener than the forests of the Endor moon. "Listen with your heart," Qui-Gon whispered. "What do you hear?"

It began as two heartbeats, as faint as a breeze along the forest floor. Qui-Gon felt that sense of disembodiment again and knew that they were sharing this moment. As the beating grew stronger, he could hear the irresistible song of the Force tapping its rhythm in his soul, twining with a counter-melody from his beloved to create an exquisite duet of light and love.

He could feel it taking root in his heart, spreading joy throughout his soul as it grew. He felt Obi-Wan lean into him, his breath coming in soft rasps.

"I feel so light," breathed Obi-Wan. He lifted his face and Qui-Gon could see the same face he always saw, but through new eyes that saw only love and strength.

"Keela was right," Qui-Gon said with a faint smile. "We are most stubborn."

"But we're not deaf," answered Obi-Wan, his eyes bright with laughter.

Qui-Gon cupped his face in his broad hands and leaned forward, slowly covering Obi-Wan's lips with his own, tasting the soft lips. "Love is a gift from the Force," he said gently. "We had only to acknowledge it for it to grow. Like us, it needs the light. If we tend it together, it will be strong. It will keep us strong."

Obi-Wan gazed deeply into the warm blue eyes of his lifemate and pondered Qui-Gon's prophetic words. Their love was a very precious gift indeed and he knew that a little cultivation was in order. He definitely planned on giving it lots of tending, starting that very minute. With a wry grin, he wrapped his arms around his love and leaned in to capture his lips. As his tongue dove past those parted lips, he chuckled. He could think of many ways to cultivate their love and he planned on testing each and every one.