Archive: M_A, anywhere else just ask
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: A/O with hints of Q/O
Categories: POV, Angst
Spoilers: You have seen TPM, right?
Series: The 6th in 'Night's Secret, Knight's Shame'
Warnings: 1. Due to recent discussion I feel I must warn that
this story contains A/O. If you don't like Anakin/Obi-Wan slash,
your delete button is there for a reason 2. This story contains
some slightly non-con elements. Think dysfunctional relationship.
3. This story follows canon. You know that thing that didn't
happen? Well, it happened.
Summery: Ani's being kinda mean.
Disclaimer: Pop Quiz: Who owns Star Wars? (hint: not me) A:
George Lucas. And do you really think I could make any money off
of this?
Feedback: Someone's still with me? By all means let me know. Any
and all forms of feedback are appreciated greatly.
Notes: Sorry for the long pause in writing, I graduated then was
computerless for 5 days. Thanks to Master Falcona of the Bright
Orange Nerf Bat, Cassie for making Ani think about what he
was doing, and of course my dear Boots, whom I have not
cheated on.
I don't like losing. Losing is for weak fools, not for me. But I
have not lost. I have merely suffered a slight setback. I can
learn from my mistakes.
What did I learn from my mistakes? What were my mistakes? I
ponder this, going over the evening minute by minute, second by
second, trying to pinpoint the moment I lost control of the
situation. Or did I ever have control?
Slamming my fist into my pillow I get off my bed and pace the
room, the events of last night still going through my mind. There
must have been somewhere...
I stop. There. When I handed him the lube. That was when I had
control. He was off balance, not expecting it to be like that. He
had prepared himself for one thing, but that was not what
happened. Yes, I had been in control there. Now... when had I
lost it?
Oh, there. The minute I entered him. The minute I began acting
exactly as he thought I would. Sith-hell! Right after that I
came, far too early. I had lost control of him, then myself, and
consequently the whole situation.
I lie back down in bed, and begin to plan for tonight.
I've won. For now. But what have I won? Nothing. What do I have
to lose? Everything. My Padawan's soul, my own soul, the future
of the Republic itself. It has occurred to me, in these past few
days, that this is a lot for one man to carry. But carry it I
must. For there is no one to share it with.
Sometimes, I wish Qui-Gon was here. Just to hold my hand once in
a while. To make me smile. Just be there so I could watch him
sleep and know that Light is stronger than the forces of Dark.
But most of the time, I am glad that he is gone, that he doesn't
have to see what is happening here. I never could bear to see my
beloved in pain. But oh, sometimes I miss him so.
I healed the injuries to my hands and face last night. Down my
neck to where my tunic would cover, likewise partially up my
wrists. I was half asleep when he came into my room. He checked
me very thoroughly. First to be sure I had healed everything that
would show, then that I hadn't healed anything else. He ran his
fingers over every inch of my body, examining me with his touch,
sight, and Force-sense. For all his concern it was the most
impersonal examination I have ever undergone. Perhaps I simply
forced myself not to feel it.
I feel that I must do something. Passivity, while a trait I can
feign, is not natural to my disposition. But if I move to expose
him in any way, he will leave. If he leaves I will no longer be
able to exert even the little control I have over him now. I sigh
and turn over, wincing as a particularly sore spot rubs against
the sheets
For now I will play his game. As a Jedi I can remove myself
mentally from a situation. This should allow me to endure next
the time he rapes me. But, for all my Jedi trappings I still
cringe ever so slightly at his touch. My dreams are the only
place where I can escape his presence. Someday, I hope, that
instead of this, Qui-Gon will become my reality, and Anakin my
dreams.
Five minutes left. Five more minutes of listening to this dried
up old stick yack at us. Jedi dead and gone do not concern me. It
is the living I care to think about. My thoughts as always, lead
to Obi-Wan. I love the way he moves, the way he sometimes
struggles sweetly against me. I carefully bring my thoughts back
to the here and now, the instructor, Master Pe'll looks as though
he is wrapping up. One more minute passes slowly by, then we are
dismissed.
I head directly back to our quarters. I know Obi-Wan will not be
there. He has taken to meditating in the gardens between my last
class and dinner. That is, he meditates when he is not in
meetings.
Today I am glad of this time, for it gives me time to prepare for
tonight. I grab what I need out of my room and settle down on the
couch with a glass of some kind of fruit juice. Yes, tonight
should be very interesting.
"Do you require me?" Ah, at last. I wonder if he knows
that I dream of those words.
"Yes." I get up and move toward him. He looks so serene
and still, almost a statue. When I reach him I put my hands
gently on his shoulders and push him slowly until his back comes
into contact with the wall. Then I almost tentatively grasp his
wrists and trap them against the wall on either side of his head.
Slowly I bring my face closer to him. He turns his head at the
last second, evading the kiss. I follow the motion and capture
his lips with my own, insisting he surrender to me. Eventually he
does, parting his lips and becoming even more pliant, if that
were possible.
Still ravaging his mouth I maneuver us into my room. I lie him
back on my bed, and slowly begin to remove his clothing. As I go
I spare some energy to heal his small injuries. I want his body
to be a clean slate for tonight.
I can feel him fighting his arousal. He doesn't want to want
this.
Without warning I get off of him and slowly strip. When I'm naked
I get on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I motion for him
to come closer. He does and I pull him into my lap, his back
against my chest. I pull my knees up between his legs and spread
them slightly, gently forcing his legs far apart. His arms hang
loose at his sides.
I run my fingers over his body. They move over his neck and down
his chest. I stop and tease his nipples, pinching them until he
makes a low moan. One hand stays there whilst the other dips
lower, testing the muscles on his abdomen and feeling the smooth
skin of his inner thigh. His eyes close as I run one finger over
the tip of his semi-hard cock.
Time for the secret weapon, I think with glee, and with a small
flicker of the Force, the view screen at the foot of my bed turns
on. It is showing the security vid. Right now all that can be
seen is Qui-Gon, asleep with a sheet half covering him.
"Obi-Wan?" I whisper.
"What?" he sounds weary, his head does not leave my
shoulder nor does he open his eyes.
"Look." He begrudgingly lifts his head and opens his
eyes.
"No..." His eyes are fixed on the screen. As we watch
Obi-Wan enters the room. He stands beside the bed for a minute,
just watching his Master sleep. Then he shucks off his clothes
and crawls into bed. Qui-Gon murmurs something in his sleep as he
unconsciously snuggles closer.
I take my eyes off the screen to look at my Obi-Wan. There are
tears running down his cheeks. "Qui-Gon." he whispers.
I have caught him completely unawares. I turn his face and lick
the salty tears away.
The scene on the screen changes now. I have edited the vid for
maximum effectiveness. For a while the vid will show nothing but
him and his Master making wild, passionate love to each other. I
can tell he is deep in remembrance, for now he does respond to my
touches. With subtle Force-touches I lead him deeper into memory
and confuse his perception of the moment.
"Master... please... Qui-Gon..." He is arching into my
hand now, the picture of sensual abandon. The only stain on my
pleasure is that it is not my name he is calling out.
Someday, I promise myself, someday he will.
Now, coming from the speakers, I can hear Qui-Gon calling out,
his voice matching his former Padawan's. Hearing his Master
serves to drive Obi-Wan forward. The sound of Qui-Gon climaxing
seams to push him over the edge, I pump him one more time and he
comes into my hand. He collapses, and for a precious moment I
hold a willing Obi-Wan in my arms.
Meanwhile, I still have a rather substantial hard-on. But I will
not make the mistake I did last time. Oh no. As I think I stroke
his face, amazed at how young and innocent he looks in repose.
I look up suddenly and glare at the image of Qui-Gon on the
screen. He took what I can never have. Angrily I turn it off.
Soon, I tell myself, soon you can have him all to yourself.
Soon we will be told that we have a mission. I'm not sure where.
The council should inform us sometime in the next few days. I run
my hands through his hair as a grin settles on my face. It is the
last mission he will ever receive.
end.