Title: Marks of Permanence By Keelywolfe (keelywolfe@aol.com) Rating: NC-17 Archive: M&A, anyone else, ask. Category: PWP Feedback: Yes, please! I crave it like a drug. Summary: This story is a sequel to Terms of Ownership, although it should make sense on it's own. Qui-Gon again has to deal with his possessive feelings towards his Padawan. Disclaimer: A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far Far Away, George Lucas created Star Wars. And he looked at it and saw that it was good. And all was right in the world. But then, we saw that Obi-Wan doth look upon Qui-Gon with lust, and that Mr. Lucas was not likely to include that in the next movie, so we said screw it and wrote it ourselves, even though we do not make any money off of this. And all was right with the world." *********************************************************************** The earlier morning coolness of the gardens had faded away under the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, making the small gathering quite relaxing and pleasant. The people of T'hel had agreed to conditions of the trading tariff with their neighboring planet easily, hardly needing their Jedi negotiators and a quiet afternoon party was all the celebration that they wanted. Standing silent and alone in one corner of the garden was Qui-Gon Jinn, watching the tittering group of young women that made up the queen's court surround his padawan. They were sitting in the shade of one of the larger trees in the garden, the young women obviously flirting with their captured guest. And Obi-Wan was playing the part of 'the mysterious, adventurous Jedi' to the hilt, telling them outrageous stories, some exaggerated, some not, of past missions while they gasped and shrieked, eyes wide as they listened. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed as he watched one of the bolder ones rest a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, neatly veiling her flirtation in show of concern over the last anecdote. Obi-Wan graced her with a charming smile, one that he had no right to bestow and one that drew yet another round of giggles from his audience. The tiny burn that had started within Qui-Gon when this had begun was smoldering, but he did nothing, simply watched and waited. Sipping the drink that he had forgotten he was holding, Qui-Gon cast a quick glance around the garden at the other partygoers, all who seemed to be having a pleasant enough time. The murmur of conversation mixed in with the low strains of music made for a lovely atmosphere to relax in after long days of negotiation. High pitched laughter pierced that thin wall of contentment and Qui-Gon winced, turning away from the display. He masked his growing irritation as well as he could, but it apparently wasn't enough for certainly no one had approached him for conversation. Either that or everyone was still in such awe of the venerable Jedi Master that they were too afraid to speak to him and for once Qui-Gon was grateful for the aloof Jedi image. He hardly wanted to be here, much less make idle chitchat. Yet another round of giggles drew his eyes back to the small group and as he watched Obi-Wan reached up and tucked his padawan braid back behind his ear, giving Qui-Gon a brief glimpse of the tattoo that circled the young man's wrist. Just a flash of silver in the afternoon sunlight and it was gone. None of the young women seemed to notice, not that it would have mattered. He doubted that any of them would have recognized it, although another Jedi would have. And would have been utterly appalled by Obi-Wan's behavior. Qui-Gon lightly fingered his own wrist through the concealing fabric of his sleeve, rubbing his own tattoo, identical to Obi-Wan's. Small, unobtrusive, their personal mark, one that Obi-Wan had designed himself. The mark of their bonding. Slipping a finger beneath his sleeve, Qui-Gon traced the design, not even needing to see it. One thin line of silver twisted and entwined with itself into a delicate, unbroken pattern. Standing there at the side of the gardens Qui-Gon felt a blush of warmth go through him that had nothing to do with the heat of the late afternoon sun as he recalled their bonding day. Master Yoda himself had placed the mark for them. A heady rush of the Force, a bright flare of pain and then their wrists had been graced with permanent Force-lines that told of their bond. Removal would leave a wide band of scar tissue on the wearer's wrist that not even bacta treatment could diminish and such a scar was a blatant sign to all Jedi of failure. Opening eyes that he was barely aware of closing, Qui-Gon again looked at his Padawan, his bondmate, and found the young man watching him. Their gazes met, Obi-Wan never looking away even as he smiled and spoke to yet another of the young women in his impromptu entourage. The backdrop of the garden fell away from Qui-Gon as he walked across the room, drawn by the pale eyes still locked on his own. He stopped directly in front of Obi-Wan and the court ladies, towering over them as they were sitting on the ground. Ignoring the whispers of the startled young women, he focused only on Obi-Wan, who was looking up at him with the faintest touch of curiosity. "Obi-Wan," he said, a hint of sharpness to his voice, which should have brought his padawan immediately to attention, alert and waiting his master's orders. Instead, Obi-Wan leaned backwards onto his hands, gazing up at his master as he tilted his head slightly to the side. "Yes, Master?" he replied, languidly, stretching himself out with a slight sigh. "Attend me." And there was a definite edge to his words now as Qui-Gon turned and strode away, not bothering to see if Obi-Wan followed him. He left the gardens, ignoring the surprised stares and walked back towards the quarters he and Obi-Wan were sharing without once looking back at the silence that seemed to follow him. His own boots echoed loudly in the quiet hallways as he strode quickly through them, pausing only at the door to his room and then he waited, one hand resting lightly on the door handle. There. A soft inhalation behind him and Qui-Gon felt weak with relief, releasing a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding before finally opening the door. Obi-Wan followed him and shut the door without a word, moving to stand before his bondmate. "Your behavior today has left something to be desired, Padawan," Qui- Gon said calmly. He crossed his arms and looked down at the younger man coolly. Obi-Wan's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Has it?" he asked softly, the innocence in his voice at odds with the knowing glint in his eyes. His eyes never leaving Qui-Gon's, Obi-Wan slowly stripped out of his clothes, folding each item neatly as he removed it until he was naked, standing without shame under the suddenly hot gaze of his bondmate. Stepping back and away, Qui-Gon sat on the edge of the bed, eyes tracing the lines of his lover's body. Obi-Wan was perfectly still, a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth, letting Qui-Gon see that he was already aroused, his erection curving up his belly. "Come here, Padawan," Qui-Gon said hoarsely, and Force but Obi-Wan was beautiful, made all the worse by the fact that Obi-Wan knew it. The young man obeyed him immediately, wrapping himself in calm as he walked over to where his master was sitting on the edge of the bed. He stood over his master only briefly, Qui-Gon gestured curtly to the floor and Obi-Wan knelt at the older man's feet. A gentle hand moved to rest on Obi-Wan's head, stroking his short hair and Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, sighing contentedly. "And how shall I punish you, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, the warmth of his voice belied the seriousness of his words and Obi-Wan shivered as Qui- Gon's hand drifted lower to play with the braid tucked behind Obi-Wan's ear. "I...I wouldn't presume to choose my own punishment, Master," he managed to say, peeking up at his master's face from beneath lowered lashes. "It is your right to choose such things." "Indeed." The hand slid down to cup Obi-Wan's chin and forced his face upward. "Perhaps I should let the punishment fit the crime?" His thumb moved to slide across Obi-Wan's lips and Obi-Wan lightly touched it with his tongue, tasting salt. "If that is your will, Master," Obi-Wan replied, breathing heavily now, his eyes locked on Qui-Gon's face. The Jedi master's face was calm, serene as always but his eyes betrayed him, deeply, impossibly blue with desire. Pulled back slightly, Qui-Gon moved to lean backwards on his hands, exposing the long line of his still clothed body to Obi-Wan. The younger man's eyes were drawn immediately to his lap, Qui-Gon's erection clearly visible through the thin fabric of his pants. "Very well then, Padawan. Pleasure me." Hoarsely spoken and Obi-Wan smiled at the sound. Shifting forward, he knelt between Qui-Gon's legs, unfastening his pants deftly. A soft groan escaped the older man as Obi-Wan carefully lifted Qui-Gon's cock from the constricting material of his trousers, stroking the shaft with delicate fingers as he eased the older man's pants out of the way. Flicking a glance up at his master, Obi-Wan found him watching expectantly, lips parted as his breathing quickened. Still watching Qui-Gon's face, Obi-Wan leaned down to run his tongue down the heavy erection before him. A sharp breath was Qui-Gon's only response. He licked his way back up, teasing the sensitive underside and watched in delight as Qui-Gon's eyes drifted closed. He moved one hand from Qui-Gon's leg to circle his shaft instead, gently pushing back his foreskin before taking the exposed head into his mouth, sucking gently. Another glance upward found Qui-Gon staring at him again, raptly and Obi-Wan let their eyes meet as he took Qui-Gon deeper into his mouth, scraping his teeth along the sides. He was rewarded with a startled gasp and two large hands catching the sides of his head, stilling him. "Gently, Padawan." Almost a growl and Obi-Wan complied, a last mischievous glance before he gentled his touch, replacing teeth with gentle suction as he took the hard shaft as deeply as he could, tamping down his gag reflex to let the head lightly bump the back of his throat. Qui-Gon's hands were still resting on his head but they made no attempt to guide him as Obi-Wan pulled back slowly and then took him in again, setting up a slow rhythm. He slid his hand lower to cup the heavy sac underneath, squeezing gently in time to his movements. A sharp gasp from above and the hands on his head tightened almost painfully, holding him still as Qui-Gon thrust upwards suddenly, once, twice and then shuddered as he came. Obi-Wan rode out Qui-Gon's sudden wildness without protest, drinking down the warm spurt of bitter fluid that spilled onto his stroking tongue. The hands gripping his head loosened, and then fell away as Qui-Gon slid backwards to sprawl across the bed, panting harshly. Obi-Wan gently stroked the softening cock with his tongue, licking away the residue of Qui-Gon's pleasure before sitting back on his heels. "Is my punishment finished, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep smugness from his voice. One eye opened languidly to look at the young man kneeling at his feet. "I think having to spend the afternoon with several tittering young girls simply to make me jealous was punishment enough," Qui-Gon replied dryly. "That was my forgiveness." Obi-Wan laughed, moving to straddle Qui-Gon, rubbing his own neglected erection against the coarse fabric of Qui-Gon's pants. "Forgive me more," he begged softly, capturing his master's mouth with his own. He could taste himself on Obi-Wan's lips, where he belonged, and Qui- Gon rolled over with his padawan in his arms, pinning the younger man beneath him. "Mine," Qui-Gon whispered, reveling in his padawan's breathless agreement as he set out to prove again that it was true. And knowing that while he might possess Obi-Wan's body, it was Obi-Wan who owned his master's heart. -finis-