Night of K'Amar
BY: Dev-Aki Basaa

PAIRING: Q/O
RATING: R
SPOILERS: None
CATEGORY: First-time, angst
FEEDBACK: Dearly loved and appreciated -
Dev_Aki_Jediknight@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: M_A only please and thank you!
WARNING: None beyond the m/m content, but you were
anticipating that, yes?
DISCLAIMER:  See Dev.  See Dev write a slashy story.
See Dev tell the big bad lawyers that no copyright
infringement was intended.  See Dev concur that the
Jedi and their world belongs to George Lucas.  See Dev
cry.
SUMMARY: A cultural ritual sparks a catharsis between
our boys.
NOTES: Much thanks go to Amy, Suze, Deb and especially
Van - all of whom I owe so much to.

~~~~~

Crimson light flooded into small room high on the
upper levels of the Embassy.  Flickering waves of
color danced with wild motions across the walls and
along the floor.  Yellows and oranges reflected off
the sparse furnishings giving an iridescent glow in
every corner of the room.  Everywhere except for the
long shadow cast by the young Jedi occupant.
Unmoving, save for the slight rise and fall of his
deep breaths, he stood staring out through the
transparasteel windows, hands tucked into the sleeves
of his cloak, watching the massive bonfire that
illuminated the capital city of Horince.  

It was the sixth night of the locals' polytheistic
celebration; a different deity honored each night.
This eve brought the Night of K'Amar - Goddess of
Lovers and Choices.  A Night of No Consequences, as
deemed by local tradition.      The annual religious
celebration coincided with the recent joining of two
formally opposing factions.  The final treaties had
been signed only hours before and, in commemoration,
the night's celebration began with the lighting of
this grand fire, a symbol of burning away all past
transgressions and rejoicing in the light of a new
era.  Touted as being the most superb gala anyone on
the planet would ever see, the newly combined
government spared no expense.  Lavish decorations
cluttered the streets, gifts for every citizen arrived
in gaudy packages, delivered to each doorstep.  Utter
joy sang through the spirits of Horince natives.  The
night promised extravagance, opulence, and unbounded
behavior.

Qui-Gon Jinn had come to watch the fire from the
quarters allocated to himself and his apprentice for
the duration of the negotiations and was greatly
surprised to find the room occupied.  Obi-Wan didn't
even respond when he entered the room, only continued
to peer forward, seemingly transfixed by the flames
that licked the sky and colored the world.

"Obi-Wan?"  Qui-Gon slowly approached his apprentice,
stopping just behind the younger man's shoulder.
Obi-Wan turned slightly and smiled up at him before
directing his gaze back towards the distant fire.  
Qui-Gon's brow furrowed as he considered his
apprentice's unforeseen presence.  Since arriving
planetside, the pair had only spoken to each other in
regards to the business that had brought them to
Horince in the first place.  Though, what words did
pass between them socially during this trying month
indicated Obi-Wan's distinct interest in the upcoming
festivals and native traditions.  Qui-Gon had not
expected to see the young man anywhere near the
Embassy this night.

"I didn't anticipate finding you in our quarters,
Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded and looked down to the floor, but
didn't respond.  After a moment, he lifted his chin,
sniffing the air, the scent of distant smoke
overpowering the Embassy's filtration system.  He
returned his focused stare out at dying blaze in
center of the city.

"A night of no consequences," Obi-Wan mused, his voice
a bare whisper to Qui-Gon's ears. "It's a fascinating
social tradition."

The comment redirected Qui-Gon's thoughts to his own
contemplation about the evenings events.  Chuckling,
he moved to stand at Obi-Wan's side, joining him in
watching the view.  "Yes, it forever intrigues me, the
stories beings tell themselves."

"Master?" Obi-Wan inquired, looking up at Qui-Gon, his
brow quirking, creasing the skin of his forehead.
Qui-Gon's mouth curled in a small grin as he tucked
his hands into the sleeves of his cloak, mimicking his
apprentice's stance.  He peered out the window at the
red-gold painted sky.  The distant roar of a party
gaining momentum somewhere within the Embassy, reached
his ears.  Drawing a deep breath, Qui-Gon's nose
twitched at the acidic tang of smoke, before he spoke.


"So often the truths we cling to are the stories we
tell ourselves.  The fiction we take as fact to make
life more bearable."

Obi-Wan looked away, staring into the darkened
recesses of the room.  The distant reflective
expression on his face went unnoticed by Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan again directed his gaze out the window, his
robes rustling, a soft whisper of a sound, as he
stepped forward.

"Because there is no such thing as 'no consequences',"
he added.

"Correct," Qui-Gon agreed and nodded, falling onto
lecturer mode as if standing before a classroom of
initiates.  "The Horince society have led themselves
to believe there are no consequences for their actions
on this one night.  I am sure, though, that there are
many who, in the cruel light of the next day, are left
with pain over this tradition."

"But couldn't it also remove pain?  A night of 'no
consequences' giving courage to take a step that the
day before seemed impossible?"

The corners of Qui-Gon's mouth curved down slightly,
the question giving hint to the young man's unexpected
behavior of this eve.

"Perhaps, but it doesn't negate the consequences of
that step the next day."

Obi-Wan nodded in response, remaining silent as Master
and Apprentice observed the bonfire growing weaker.
The sky turned deep red as the glow of unseen embers
illuminated the night.  The occasional orange flame
leapt into view over the planes of roofs and through
alleyways of numerous buildings.

A sharp breath of Obi-Wan's broke the amicable
silence, just before he spoke.

"Do you have any stories that you tell yourself,
Master?  Fiction taken as fact?"

Qui-Gon looked at his apprentice, who still stood
slightly ahead of him, intrigued and yet a bit
startled by the question.  Raising his brow, he
considered the inquiry before responding.

"Well," he began, "by the nature of what they are I
wouldn't necessarily realize I was telling myself, or
anyone else, a story."

"Ah," Obi-Wan said, a quiet breath of air in which
vocals could just barely be heard.

Qui-Gon's brow dropped.

"Why, Padawan?  Is there a story you believe you're
telling yourself?"

Qui-Gon moved forward to stand shoulder to shoulder
with Obi-Wan as the young man's silence stretched into
an awkward length.  With a shrug, Obi-Wan finally
responded.

"I suppose it isn't so much a story as a wish."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon rested back on his heels, wrapping his
fingers around his elbows and pulling his folded arms
tighter to his chest.  He eagerly waited for Obi-Wan
to continue, enthused at this rare personal insight
from a young man who'd taken to being very private in
the last few months.

"That the Horins are right and there really could be
one night when the consequences didn't matter and
never came."

The implications of that statement were far reaching.

"I see."  Qui-Gon ran the tip of this tongue across
his bottom lip, wondering if he should continue this
thread.  Should he broach the question that hung
oppressively between them?  Encouraged by perhaps the
night's native tradition, Qui-Gon stepped further into
the offered openness, hoping that was what Obi-Wan
needed.  He certainly didn't want to impose on the
young man's privacy.

"A consequence from a violation of the Code?"

"Not the written Code, no." Obi-Wan responded after a
moment filled with both tension and apprehension.
Though he spoke quickly, Qui-Gon thought his young man
sounded defeated as if he had just acquiesced on the
long battle of maintaining a difficult secret.

Qui-Gon considered this - the trust Obi-Wan laid
before him with his admission.  It was a sign of
closeness returning between them after a drought of
distant familiarity.  Thankful to be let inside
Obi-Wan's walls again, Qui-Gon knew he could deny his
padawan nothing.

"I am your Master, Obi-Wan.  That is a wish I can
grant you."

"What?"  Obi-Wan turned fully to face his master's
profile, his hands dropping down to hang full of
tension at his side.  Qui-Gon didn't move, merely
cocking his head slightly forward as he explained
himself.

"What passes between us stays between us.  Nothing
would need to be reported to the Council, if that is
your wish."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Master, you don't even know
what I wish to do!"  His full lower lip drooped
forward as he gaped at Qui-Gon.

"No, but I trust you.  More than perhaps you realize,"
Qui-Gon answered, turning to face his apprentice, his
gaze echoing the conviction of his words.

Obi-Wan stared silent before clenching his jaw and
looking away to the floor.

"It's not that simple," he mumbled.

Qui-Gon sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly with
his released breath.  "No, I suppose it's not, by my
own definition of this night.  But I will give you the
opportunity, just the same."

Still peering at the carpeted floor, Obi-Wan whispered
his words. "But I'm afraid I could not be satisfied by
one night."

The cryptic words sent a shudder down Qui-Gon's spine.
He had never considered that Obi-Wan's distancing of
late was something to be concerned over.  Apprentices
often individualize to prepare for their coming
knighthood.  It was Qui-Gon's own issue at how
disappointed the absence left him.  Only now, he
wondered if again his blind trust caused him to miss a
greater concern.

"You're beginning to worry me," Qui-Gon grinned,
trying to laugh off his sudden unease.  "Can you at
least tell me the nature of what we're discussing?"

Obi-Wan looked back at his master, the small folds of
his perplexed expression seemed deeper from the
increasing shadows in the room - the fire in the
distance was all but out.  He appeared to be holding
his breath as he considered perhaps a multitude of
possibilities.  Qui-Gon had always trained his
apprentice to be thorough.

"All right," Obi-Wan said finally.  "But we never
speak of it again, correct?"

"Yes, never again.  I promise," Qui-Gon agreed, his
own expression a growing reflection of the tension in
his apprentice's.

Obi-Wan took a step closer to his master, their chests
almost touching.  Qui-Gon watched each movement, each
flex of muscle as he tried to hide his apprehension at
the unknown act about to occur.  All that anxiety
washed away as the young man peered up into his eyes,
the intimate connection comforting and reminding of
his true trust in Obi-Wan.  So lost in the vision of
two blue-green pools before him, Qui-Gon hardly
noticed the soft touch to his cheek, brushing the
short hairs of his beard in awkward directions.  His
naivete finally stepped aside to realization when the
brushing fingers cupped around the back of his neck
and insistently pulled him forward.

He wasn't quick enough to stop the sharp intake of
shocked breath before it was audible.  The beautiful
eyes before him widened and their color faded,
shifting in alarm.  The pressure on Qui-Gon's neck
reduced instantly and soon his vision filled with
reddish-brown hair as Obi-Wan turned away.  Qui-Gon
heard murmured words of apology, but they didn't
register - nothing did.  Instinct took over and
brought him back in speed with the plummeting moment
before it was too late.  He spoke as he realized how
tight a grip he had on Obi-Wan's arm, holding him
still near.

"No consequences," Qui-Gon stated quickly. "You just
startled me, Obi-Wan, don't stop."

He slid his hand to Obi-Wan's wrist and replaced the
young man's hand to the back of his neck.  Lost again
when the smoky eyes came back to his view, Qui-Gon
didn't wait for the insistent pressure to coax him
down to the trembling lips before him.  He could feel
nothing more beyond the mouth that crushed against
his.  He drew a breath filled with the scent and taste
of Obi-Wan, a heady concoction that he never before
knew existed.  As Obi-Wan's lips parted in silent
invitation, Qui-Gon let his tongue ease forward into a
furnace of sweltering fire and velvety flesh.  It
wasn't until his fingers touched hot skin that Qui-Gon
realized he'd been pushing inside his apprentice's
tunics and Obi-Wan into his.  The rough pads of
well-trained fingers caressed his skin and slid around
his body, gripping his back and pulling him closer to
a physique he'd trained and healed and examined
detachedly hundreds of times.  Again he studied it,
searching for gasps of reaction, only not as
indication of injury or pain, but of pleasure and
desire and as triggers to a thousand swirling emotions
too many to catalogue.  

They were moving, stumbling forward as Obi-Wan led
them into the next room - into Qui-Gon's quarters.
Not that he saw anything change, his eyes filled only
with the sight of pale muscle and youthful flesh,
dusted with fine hairs and pink scars.  Those scars he
knew wholly, the rest was a feast before him to be
devoured as he never allowed consideration of before.
Qui-Gon removed his arms from Obi-Wan just long enough
to lose the already half-removed tunics fully, then he
scooped the young man back into him arms and up onto
the bed.  He sunk down into the mattress next to him
and stared in awe, trying for a moment to comprehend
what was happening.  Obi-Wan hardly let the pause for
thought occur.  He wrapped his arms around his neck
and drew him down again, latching his lips to sweat
slicked skin and moaning as Qui-Gon let his full
weight bear down against the writhing body.

Words did not pass between them, actions alone told
the story of their night.  The bed was encircled with
divested clothing, quilts and blankets pushed out of
their way.  Qui-Gon never let a chance to worship pass
him by.  His hands traveled the length and breadth of
Obi-Wan, teasing and caressing every inch of skin and
sinew.  Moans and gasps filled the small room, duets
of passion, as the pair moved against each other,
heightening the sensations and peaking arousal.
Obi-Wan brought his legs around to hook over the backs
of Qui-Gon's thighs, arching up into the slow
ministration of groin against groin.  The maddening
pace undeterred by wordless pleas spilt forth from the
padawan's gasping mouth and clouded mind.  The tension
that built took over all coherent thought from the
two, swirling around inside them and taunting
over-sensitized flesh.  Groans of completion
overwhelmed the erotic motet of their cries, a climax
of body, mind, and vocalized music.

Twined together in a maze of tangled limbs and torsos,
Qui-Gon stroked the sweat damp hair of his apprentice.
He watched as the sated young man drifted off to
sleep, murmuring his name like one would revere a god.
He let his finger graze the shell of his ear before
sliding down the length of his braid.  With braid in
hand, Qui-Gon shifted enough to tuck Obi-Wan's head
under his chin and draw the man even tighter into the
circle of his arms before joining his Obi-Wan in
contented slumber.

~~~~~

The unfamiliar sensation of another's breathing
brought Obi-Wan up from the deep reaches of sleep.  He
swam up from unconsciousness at first confused and
then realization hit him.  He pulled away from Qui-Gon
enough to take in the view of his sleep-slackened
face.  Such a sight as he'd never seen before -
peaceful and serene as in meditation, and yet, not the
same.  Drawing his hand up from the confines of their
closely pressed bodies, Obi-Wan let his fingers dance
over Qui-Gon's features.  His beard (much softer than
he'd guess), his crooked nose, strong chin, beautiful
lips… if he could only see his eyes this close again,
that brilliant blue seemed to continue on forever.
But that would mean waking him and breaking the spell.
This gift of a night couldn't be ruined for anything.
He'd almost missed it, backing down on his long
devised plan to use the Horin's culture to his
advantage.  Yet, Qui-Gon had asked all the right
questions and before Obi-Wan hardly realized it, he
found himself crushed against his master.  His
obstinate, aggravating, strong, beautiful master -
together breaching a longstanding tenet of
Master/Padawan relations.

No consequences.  He only hoped it was true.

Moving in slow intervals in carefully chosen
directions, Obi-Wan untangled himself from Qui-Gon's
body, reverently laying each limb into as comfortable
a position as he could find.  The last entanglement
was of Qui-Gon's fingers wrapped possessively around
his braid.  Obi-Wan followed out the line of discarded
clothing into the common room, gathering his own
pieces and taking them into his quarters to dump on
the floor.  He then strode, still nude, back into
Qui-Gon's room, collecting his clothing and folding
them to lie on a chair.  Pulling a wrinkled sheet up
from the end of the bed, Obi-Wan covered his master,
stepping back to watch the thin fabric float down and
settle like snow over the terrain of Qui-Gon's body.
His breathing even quickened as he envied the sheet
that clung to that body as he had only moments before,
but never again.  Not allowing himself to become
melancholy, Obi-Wan came close one last time to place
a kiss on his beloved's forehead.  He let his lips
linger, sealing the memory of this night and then
turned to leave, not looking back, a smile splitting
wide his face.

~~~~~~~

Brilliant light flooded Obi-Wan's vision with
red-orange.  At first he thought that the bonfire was
ablaze again, but then he realized it was the rising
sun piercing though his eyelids.  A blinding ray
slipped though the shades not fully pulled close.
With a groan, Obi-Wan raised his arm across the bridge
of his nose, protecting his vulnerable eyes and rolled
away from the light.

*"...the cruel light of the next day..."*, Qui-Gon's
words from the night before echoed in Obi-Wan's head.
It was not just a metaphor.  Obi-Wan sat up, the bed
clothes wrapped around his middle, constricting his
movements.  As he stretched a recently familiar scent
wafted into his nostrils and awakened his mind.
Sharply, he looked around expecting to find Qui-Gon
near, but he was very much alone.  Realization
reminded him that he was unwashed from the events the
night before.  He seriously considered never washing
again.  Smiling, he let his hand caress his belly,
feeling the dried flecks of ejaculate dusting off with
his touch.  No, he'd had his night, it was all he
would be getting, he needed to keep moving.  With a
sigh, Obi-Wan pushed off the covers and crossed the
room to the refresher.

The 'fresher sonics brought him keenly into reality.
He had to prepare for the trip back to Courscant today
and he knew Qui-Gon preferred leaving as close to
middle hour as possible.  That didn't leave much time.
Dressed quickly, Obi-Wan paused before entering the
common room and truly beginning his day.  He wondered
what awaited him on the other side.  If nothing else,
Obi-Wan trusted Qui-Gon implicitly.  He knew he was
safe.  He only wished he knew from what.

As the door whooshed open, Obi-Wan found that the
chamber caretakers had already come and gone, leaving
food for the morning.  The place-settings sat
untouched on the quaint table and chairs in the corner
of the room.  He walked up to the table and picked at
the food.  A berry, a petite cake, a drink of some
local juice went down his gullet, before an unexpected
knot of tension stifled his appetite.  He could sense
his master approaching the door of the common room.  

Obi-Wan didn't let the sound of the door opening deter
him, as he turned away from the table and began
collecting the numerous datapads and electro-books
that cluttered the area, left strewn after the final
negotiation was entered as final.  Swallowing against
a dry throat, Obi-Wan ignored the gaze that followed
him as he moved from chair to couch to table, stacking
the objects in his arms.  He wanted to greet his
master with a 'good morning', but couldn't find enough
moisture in his mouth to speak.  Finally Qui-Gon
stepped away from his quarter's door and approached
the table of food.  Obi-Wan then turned to watch his
master pick at the food in the same sporadic manner he
had.  Qui-Gon's strong back bent over the table
slightly to study the food before him, his still damp
hair dangled over his shoulder dripping a lone droplet
of water on the dark wood.  Qui-Gon must have used a
moisture shower instead of sonics.  Obi-Wan shut his
eyes tight, willing the distracting image - Qui-Gon,
head dipped back, water sluicing down his nude muscled
form - to leave his mind.  It was going to be a
difficult morning.  If they just returned to routine
and normalcy, Obi-Wan could ensure that indeed there
would be no consequences for their night.  With one
last quick glimpse and a grin, he turned away and
carried the pads into his room to fill their bags.

Reentering the common area, Obi-Wan caught his
master's direct gaze for the first time since the
night before.  He was standing with his back to the
corner table as if waiting for him to return.  Obi-Wan
stopped still for that moment, witnessing the
pronounced lines on Qui-Gon's face, an expression of
deep concern crumpling his features.  No.  Normalcy
and routine.  He turned away, looking for anything
else to collect.

"Obi-Wan, we need to talk."

His mouth dry again, Obi-Wan bit the back of his
tongue to cause saliva to flood his mouth and enable
him to speak.

"I've filled our bags, I can collect the rest of yours
and take them to the launch pad, if you're ready." He
brushed absent crumbs from the seats of the couch.

"Obi-Wan, I really think we should discuss..."

"No." Obi-Wan cut him off, shocked by his own quick
reaction.  He turned back to meet that conflicted gaze
with his own determined one.

Qui-Gon dropped his head for a moment then raised his
chin as he began to speak again.  His fingers woven
together, suspended before his chest.

"I know we said..."

Obi-Wan interrupted him again, his voice very calm.

"I believe your exact words were 'I promise.'"

Qui-Gon started as if to argue, but instead hardened
his jaw and looked away.  His shoulders sagged as he
turned on his heel and walked into his room.
Returning with his bags, Obi-Wan watched his master,
not moving for the luggage until he'd laid them down.
As Obi-Wan lumped a bag over his shoulder, he could
hear Qui-Gon draw breath to speak.  He tensed in
anticipation of unwanted words.

"If you'd just listen..."

Obi-Wan's glare this time stopped Qui-Gon.  He looked
over his unburdened shoulder, staring up at his
master.

"You were right.  There *is* no such thing as 'no
consequences'" His words were clipped with a bitter
edge that made Qui-Gon flinch.  Qui-Gon stood in that
spot as Obi-Wan continued to gather all the bags.  He
would normally make two trips for them all, but
wrapped straps around himself and lugged extra weight
to leave as soon as possible, not wanting to return to
this room again.

"Obi-Wan."

Pausing before the door to the main hallway, Obi-Wan
caught Qui-Gon's gaze a final time.  Though his words
were calm and formal, the fire in his eyes spiked.

"Master, I am going to send for our ship.  I'll meet
you onboard for departure at precisely middle hour."

Without hesitation or another word from Qui-Gon,
Obi-Wan marched out into the corridor, his heels
echoed sharply, ringing in his head and drowning out
the rampaging words in his mind.

~~~~~~

"Listen, Jedi," the pilot spit the address like a
curse, "I'm on an *extremely* tight schedule here and
I have to leave NOW."  He tapped an oil streaked
finger on the navi-board for effect.  "Our window time
for clearance is ticking away."

"I'm *quite* aware," Obi-Wan snapped back.  His jaw
clenched rhythmically, pulsing the vein at  his temple
over and over again.  A litany against anger buzzed
though his mind at a dizzying pace.  He'd already
called Qui-Gon on the comlink for the eighteenth time
with no response.  The Embassy computer reported that
Qui-Gon hadn't left their allocated quarters since
returning to them the night before.  This was
completely ridiculous of a Jedi Master.

"That's it, I'm going," the pilot announced, as he
punched the control panel, bringing it to life.

"Just...wait...," Obi-Wan said through tightly
clenched teeth. "There's been a complication.  I
thought time would take care of it, but apparently
I'll have to handle it personally.  This *won't* take
long."

"Well, I'm going to check my union papers to see just
*how* long I am required to wait, Jedi!" the pilot
yelled after Obi-Wan's retreating back and wind flared
robes  

"You do that," Obi-Wan grumbled as he strode down the
ramp into the brightly lit Horince day.

~~~~~

Obi-Wan stormed into the quarters ready for verbal
battle, but he found Qui-Gon staring out across the
city, transfixed with the view.  He realized that must
have been how Qui-Gon found him, reflectively watching
the bonfire, the night before.  Qui-Gon didn't seem as
tall as he usually appeared.  

Normalcy and routine.  This had to work; Obi-Wan
couldn't bear to lose his master.

"Master, our impatient captain insists that we leave
now.  I don't recommend upsetting a union pilot
anymore than we already have." His voice and stance
were as formal as his early days of trying to be the
perfect padawan for his imposing and impressive
master.  Such simple days.

The long silence that stretched after his words made
the knot of tension return to Obi-Wan's stomach.  No
consequences...how did he ever allow himself to be so
delusional?

"Apparently I did have a story I was telling myself,"
Qui-Gon finally said, his back still towards Obi-Wan.

The knot of tension dropped then, sending Obi-Wan's
insides plummeting downward.  His proper stance folded
in on itself as he drew his fingers up to pinch the
bridge of his nose.  He'd risked too much.  He played
with a fire as massive as that ritual blaze and
thought he could actually control it.  Foolish boy.  

"Please don't," his voice small with the plea.

Qui-Gon turned around at that, looking shocked and
overwhelmed.  He spread his hands and returned the
plea.

"I can't not, Obi-Wan.  I found something new and
wonderful and glorious last night and, I'm sorry, but
I couldn't bear to never speak of it again."  Qui-Gon
took a step forward and then another one, slowly
approaching a frozen Obi-Wan.  He had dropped his hand
as Qui-Gon began, disbelieving what he listened to.
The words, so far beyond what he ever had hoped to
hear, struck him dumb and powerless to move.  He
simply watched as Qui-Gon came closer.

"I couldn't bear to never tell you how much you mean
to me, how much I need you..." Qui-Gon stopped moving
then, his steady gaze falling out of focus as he
seemed to gather the words.  He looked up and caught
Obi-Wan's stare with fierce determination, "...how
much I love you.  I didn't realize, not until last
night."

Again he found himself staring into the endless blue
of Qui-Gon's eyes, intimately close.  Caught between
tears and laughter, Obi-Wan struggled to speak,
shaking his head slightly as Qui-Gon captured it in
his broad hands.  

"I broke my promise, Obi-Wan, please forgive me."

"Master, I..." Obi-Wan barely managed, his voice raspy
from lack of breath that the sight before him had
stolen away.

Qui-Gon pressed his forehead down against Obi-Wan's,
his eyes closed against collecting tears.  Obi-Wan
felt one drop splash low on his cheek and roll down to
drip off his jaw line, mingled in with his own.

"Say my name," Qui-Gon murmured.  "You had whispered
it as you fell asleep last night and I didn't realize
until this morning how rarely I hear you say it."

"Qui-Gon."

"Yes?" the Master's voice equally as breathless and
raspy from emotion.  Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's fingers
move with his throat as he swallowed, drudging up the
ability to speak.

"I have loved you for so long..." Obi-Wan's voice
cracked and failed as emotion welled up inside him.  A
wave of desire deluged forward, washing down his
shields and flooding along the training bond,
strengthening it into something greater and
unbreakable - far beyond any unspoken word or code
could ever hope to achieve.

"Shhh...I know," Qui-Gon whispered, "you told me as
much with your kiss last night.  I am blessed."

Qui-Gon tilted Obi-Wan's head upward and captured his
mouth, gently pressing their lips together.  The
sensation broke Obi-Wan out of his shocked calm and he
reached up, wrapped his arms tight about his master's
neck and pulled him forward, crashing into him.  All
reserve abandoned, Qui-Gon dropped his hands, grabbed
Obi-Wan's waist and bent him backwards, devouring him
into a breathless mass.  The kiss set ablaze a hundred
passions buried deep within each man, lighting their
way as brilliantly as the Force.  A perfect balance of
illumination that would serve them as they continued
to encounter the consequences of Horince's Night of
K'Amar.


The END

=====================================================

Well??? <nervous look> Dev_aki_jediknight@yahoo.com

=====
There once was a Jedi named Qui-Gon,
who loved his Padawan Obi-wan,
He said of the boy, he had quite a toy,
that was best when kissed, licked and sucked upon.
                                                                     - a.l.p.