Archive: M_A, and http://www.slashcity.com/ciceqi/See.htm
Category: Q/O slash, First Time
Rating: NC-17 for m/m sex
Disclaimer: We decided that we would have an Obi / My favorite
flavor, cherry-red / I sung my song to Mr. Lucas / Yeah, and he
said one word to me, and that was "bread," / I said to
him: You can't always get what you want / You can't always get
what you waaaaaant...
Warnings: Not the first that I've started, but the first TPM
slash I've finished...no beta, no sleep, no big surprise about
either to those who know me, heh...what is a surprise is
the total lack of angst...I must be sick again...
Spoilers: None. Takes place preTPM.
Notes: Just a bit of schmoopiness for Jeniece, since she was so
nice about corrupting me, snerk...but we gotta talk about this
sudden fascination you've inspired in me for
CherryPoppinDaddy!Qui...
Summary: Obi-Wan has always seemed oblivious to his admirers, but
all may not be as it seems.
Feedback: Send it on! Shameless slut for it, I admit...
"Obi-Wan?"
Hearing his padawan's name, Qui-Gon paused as well, turning in
the crowded hall to see what the trouble was. That there was no
trouble was immediately obvious; Obi-Wan was smiling down at the
girl whose small, white hand was wrapped so proprietarily around
his arm, his cheerful grin returned with interest. "I'm
sorry to keep you," she beamed back, though she didn't sound
sorry at all. "I just wanted to make sure we were still on
for tonight."
"Of course," Obi-Wan nodded seriously. "After
evening meal?"
"That would be lovely," she agreed, eyes almost as
dangerously blue as Obi-Wan's twinkling with anticipation.
Shaking his head tolerantly, Qui-Gon turned and walked away,
leaving his apprentice to it. He thought he remembered the girl's
name this time--Kania, Master Arlen's padawan, already making a
name for herself with her rapid grasp of languages. She was
definitely beautiful, and though tiny, Qui-Gon didn't doubt that
there was more than enough strength in that slender frame to make
her a formidable opponent--she had the alabaster, aquiline
features of an Imratha, whose bodies were muscled like a cat, far
stronger than their size would indicate. Altogether a more than
acceptable companion for his padawan who, at sixteen, was quite
old enough to decide such things for himself.
So it was rather a surprise when Obi-Wan appeared suddenly at his
side again, an absolutely proper step behind him, showing no
signs of having to jog to catch up. Contrite, Qui-Gon offered,
"You didn't have to leave your friend, padawan...the supply
master isn't expecting us."
"That's all right, Master," Obi-Wan grinned up at him
easily, no trace of disappointment in his voice or his eyes.
"We'd already made our plans--Kania just wanted to make sure
they hadn't changed. It is all right if I'm gone for a few hours,
isn't it? I didn't have a chance to ask you before..."
Obi-Wan turned pleading eyes on him.
"Of course," Qui-Gon chuckled. "She seems to be an
admirable girl, this Kania..."
"Oh, she is," Obi-Wan agreed blithely, grinning his
thanks. "Without her to tutor me in Vas'koth and Huttese,
I'd be flunking languages miserably."
Qui-Gon blinked, surprised--but that, as far as Obi-Wan seemed to
be concerned, was that. Obi-Wan picked up their earlier
conversation without a hitch, and Qui-Gon listened with half an
ear as his padawan cheerfully speculated on whether the supply
master had been as sick of replacing the young Qui-Gon's robes as
he was of replacing Obi-Wan's rapidly-outgrown footwear. Turning
the incident in the hallway over in his mind, Qui-Gon had no
doubts that the in-all-ways-estimable Kania had had more than
languages on her mind--and that Obi-Wan had been utterly
oblivious to it.
Maybe it was time for that master-apprentice talk on the birds
and the banthas.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon turned wearily as his padawan stumbled behind him,
reaching out to catch the young man's elbow without thinking.
Three months in the field had left him almost hyper-aware of his
padawan's every move, and he had sensed Obi-Wan's faltering
balance even before the shout had distracted the young man.
Obi-Wan blinked up at him with a tired smile of thanks, adjusting
the pack on his shoulder as they both turned back to see who had
yelled.
Applian Antreibenu cut through the crowded halls like a living
flicker of flame, his brilliant red-gold hair visible even before
his smiling face. His smile faltered somewhat when he saw the
state Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were in, and his apologies were
delivered in an absolutely mortified tone, the words tripping
over each other with typical haste. "Force, I'm sorry, Obi,
Master Jinn, I had no idea, I just heard you were back, and
Obi-Wan's birthday is tomorrow, and we were all worried he'd miss
it, or not miss it, it's not like you can miss your own
birthday, but we were going to give him a party, if that was all
right with you, Master Jinn, but forgive me for saying so, Obi,
you look awful, I mean, sorry for holding you up, I mean,
here, let me get that..."
Obi-Wan blinked at his friend, obviously too tired to make sense
of the convoluted and one-sided conversation, but he let the
other padawan divest him of his pack without a word. Shaking his
head, Qui-Gon started towards their rooms again, thinking Obi-Wan
would want the time alone with his friend, but Applian's voice
followed him effortlessly as Obi-Wan stumbled after him, reaching
automatically for the strap of the pack Qui-Gon carried in his
free hand.
Easing the lighter one off his shoulder, Qui-Gon gave his padawan
that one instead, knowing Obi-Wan would only get stubborn
otherwise. They had been leaning on each other rather heavily for
weeks--he saw no need to stop now, just because they were home,
and the simple satisfaction he felt from Obi-Wan told him he'd
done the right thing. His padawan needed to be needed. It
was something Qui-Gon understood intimately.
"What you need is a nice, long bath," Applian was
admonishing sternly. "Maybe I can find a cart somewhere and
wheel you down to the steam room," he added with a chuckle,
his natural high spirits reasserting themselves. "Or maybe a
wheelbarrow. It'll be all the rage--we'll have padawan porters in
the halls, wheelbarrows with racing stripes, and we'll owe it all
to you..."
"Don't do me any favors," Obi-Wan grumbled rustily, but
Qui-Gon easily heard the humor in it, and Applian's already
bright smile became almost blinding. Qui-Gon couldn't quite help
doing a double-take, and he dimly realized he wasn't the only one
in the hall who had. Padawan Antreibenu certainly was an
exorbitantly attractive young man...not to mention generous,
kind, funny...a genuinely decent lad.
"But your birthday!" Applian was insisting suddenly.
"You can't turn eighteen without a proper wake!"
"Wake?" Obi-Wan shook his head, and Qui-Gon smiled when
Applian caught Obi-Wan without thinking as his padawan staggered
again. Slinging his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders, Applian's
grin was almost an invitation to riot.
"For your youth!" Applian exclaimed, as if it should
have been more than obvious. "Excuse me, Master Jinn,"
Applian offered suddenly, his lips twitching charmingly. "I
mean no insult--not that anyone would ever accuse a man as
handsome as yourself of being old..."
"Applian!" Obi-Wan gasped, shocked, but Applian just
laughed, hugging Obi-Wan one-armed as Qui-Gon found himself
chuckling indulgently. If Applian had one fault, it was that he
always said exactly what was on his mind--but his honesty was so
cheerful, it never quite managed to get him in trouble. That
there wasn't an unkind bone in his body certainly helped.
"It's all right, Padawan," Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan,
shaking his head. "I take the compliment in the spirit that
it was given."
Applian certainly didn't have eyes for him, after
all--Padawan Antreibenu was definitely smitten, but it was the
Apprentice that inspired the lad's devotion, not the Master.
Applian had been after Obi-Wan for the last year, with the
determination of an Iredhi scenthound. It was a fact Obi-Wan was
oblivious to, however, as oblivious as he had been to Kania, and
Ban-Shael, and Hesther before this. Qui-Gon had even managed to
escape the almost ritual crush of an apprentice for his Master
with Obi-Wan, though he found it rather amusing that his own
padawan seemed to be the only one in the entire Temple who hadn't
fallen for him at one time or the other. Perhaps it was true that
familiarity breeds contempt--in the best possible way, of course.
And Obi-Wan had already known all about the birds and the
banthas, thank you very much.
"Listen," Qui-Gon began before Applian could say
something equally shocking about Obi-Wan, not that Obi-Wan wasn't
used to it by now. "If Obi-Wan can manage to get some sleep
tonight, he's free to do as he likes tomorrow. That includes your
'wake,' Padawan Antreibenu," he added with a smile, and
Applian lit up instantly. "Just have him back before
practice the next day, all right?"
"Thank you, Master Jinn," Applian beamed with
such earnest gratitude, Qui-Gon was hard-pressed not to burst out
laughing. Applian, at least, knew he had Qui-Gon's seal of
approval...
He still had the sneaking suspicion it wouldn't matter very much
tonight.
"Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon almost turned to look, but he knew what he would see. He
heard his padawan stop, but Qui-Gon merely slowed his own steps,
wishing to give the other two what privacy he could. The arched
marble halls of the Cabrian palace shone a soft silver in the
moonlight, and the place seemed ghostly tonight, deserted and
empty. Qui-Gon's footsteps made no noise, so the only echoes he
heard were the voices of his padawan and the heir-son, hushed and
intent.
"Forgive me, I...I wanted to say farewell," Arian
murmured, and Qui-Gon felt a pang of sorrow for the solemn young
man at his back. Before him, a pale vision in a white gown
stepped into the long hall, and Qui-Gon managed a smile for
Arian's sister, who curtseyed low to him before going to stand
silently with her brother. "I...we knew you were Jedi,"
Arian was saying, "but...we had hoped..."
Had hoped to win him, if not for their consort, at least for
their bed. Qui-Gon had known the minute the heirs had laid eyes
on Obi-Wan, had truly hurt for that earnest pair, setting their
sights on the unattainable. He was starting to realize he knew
what that felt like. Obi-Wan was twenty, a thoroughly typical
young man in every way--headstrong, impulsive at times, a
boundless well of enthusiasm and energy--except that he seemed to
have no interest whatsoever in sexual intimacy. It wasn't that
there hadn't been offers--they merely seemed to slide off the
young man's armor like water off a Force-shield. They might as
well have remained silent, for all the notice Obi-Wan took of
them, and more often than not, his blindness kept him friends he
might otherwise have lost.
And yet... "I know," Obi-Wan said quietly, and the
words fell like stones into the well of Qui-Gon's straining ears.
The ripples of surprise they caused left Qui-Gon holding his
breath, intent on whatever would follow. It had never quite
occurred to him that Obi-Wan did know the effect he had on
others...his padawan was so calm, so collected about it, with a
true Jedi's detachment towards the temptations of the body. Had
Obi-Wan decided on a path of celibacy, then? //What a waste,//
Qui-Gon thought before he could censor it, and hoped desperately
that Obi-Wan wasn't listening for him through their bond.
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan was saying behind him, and Qui-Gon
could feel his regret--it was all for hurting these two, and none
for what might have been. "It's not you...you're both very
beautiful, very...kind. It's just...my heart belongs to
another."
Another ripple of shock tossed through Qui-Gon, though he
couldn't quite say why. Obi-Wan hadn't seemed to be pining after
anyone, not anyone that he knew of, anyway...and when
could that have started? When Elisse had been chasing him?
Durgan? Surely not as far back as Applian...surely...
"We understand," Arian said quietly, and then they were
too far away for him to make out their voices, even using the
Force to enhance his hearing. It was only when he realized just how
far away they were that Qui-Gon realized he'd been doing it,
using the Force to eavesdrop on his padawan's private life.
Perhaps it didn't quite fall under the category of
private--those two were the heirs of a vast system, after
all--but it made him uncomfortable anyway. His padawan deserved
better of him than that. It was none of his business what Obi-Wan
did with his personal time, anyway.
And if he'd really wanted to know, he could have asked. He knew
that with a certainty that should have been at least as
surprising as Obi-Wan's revelations, but wasn't. Obi-Wan had
never kept secrets from him; they had always been able to talk
about anything at all. If he had asked why Obi-Wan always turned
down the offers he was made, Obi-Wan would have told him.
The idea that maybe he hadn't wanted to know had never occurred
to him before now.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes
as he watched his padawan stitch up the rents in Qui-Gon's outer
robe, Obi-Wan's sure fingers making quick work of the task.
"You can leave that, you know. It will keep until
tomorrow."
"And have my Master look like a refugee when they sign the
treaty?" Obi-Wan protested, glancing up with a grin. Obi-Wan
was sitting on the floor beside the fire, his own uniform far
more tattered, but he looked oddly content despite the bruising
abrasion that marked his cheek. Close...this one had been so
close, and even the Force wasn't always enough when someone
decided to drop a building on you. The tortured scream of burning
air as energy-cannons fired all around them was with Qui-Gon
still, even the creak of an opening door making him tense, and he
knew Obi-Wan felt the same. Far too close.
"No one's going to be awake to sign anything until at least
noon," Qui-Gon chuckled. "You can hear the celebration
from here, Padawan...you should be down there with it. Everyone
loves a hero..."
"Then it should be you down there," Obi-Wan snorted,
"not me. All I did was rush in like a fool at the right
time--you stopped the fighting."
"I'm too old for victory celebrations," Qui-Gon sighed,
mock-mournfully, though he couldn't hide a pleased smile at
Obi-Wan's surprised laugh.
"You?" Obi-Wan shook his head, honest disbelief in his
voice. "The same man who runs me into the ground every day?
Who I still can't beat two falls out of three, no matter
how many dirty tricks the other Masters teach me? Forgive me if I
hurt myself laughing, Master..."
"The healers wouldn't be at all happy," Qui-Gon smiled
tolerantly, sending a gentle feeling of goodwill through their
bond. It wasn't flattery--Obi-Wan didn't know the meaning of the
word 'obsequious'--more the feeling of quiet pride Qui-Gon felt
about Obi-Wan himself. He sent that too, and watched Obi-Wan's
eyes go soft, a faint, sweet smile curving his lips before he
dropped his eyes to Qui-Gon's robes again. "I just don't
want you to feel you have to stay up here just because I
am," Qui-Gon said after a moment, and Obi-Wan shrugged one
shoulder without looking up.
"That's all right," Obi-Wan smiled, and it felt
all right, somehow. "We're both tired tonight. If I really
want to drink too much and sing silly songs off-key, I can always
do it in my room."
"True," Qui-Gon chuckled, "very true...but you're
forgetting about the nubile youth of a grateful populace, you
know..."
Obi-Wan looked up with a mischievous grin, needle pausing again
as he raised a wicked brow. "Forgetting?" he demanded
incredulously. "Why do you think I'm hiding?"
Qui-Gon had to laugh even as he rolled his eyes at his
apprentice. "You know, it's a natural reaction to near-death
experiences...there's always a population boom after a war,"
he shrugged, wishing they had had that talk two years ago,
when Obi-Wan had turned down the heirs of the entire Cabrian
system. Obi-Wan had never brought a lover around to meet his
Master, and though Qui-Gon had been oddly hurt at first, thinking
Obi-Wan was keeping a secret from him at last, he'd eventually
begun to hurt for Obi-Wan as it became obvious there was
no lover for Qui-Gon to meet. Whoever his padawan had lost his
heart to, that love was apparently not returned, though it defied
belief. Who could resist this beautiful man, ever?
Obi-Wan had never given any sign that anything was wrong, no
tears, no sighing at shadows, no more moodiness than he had ever
been prone to. But now that he knew what to look for, Qui-Gon could
feel that love sometimes, a quiet, peaceful thing deep inside his
apprentice that expected nothing, that grew in silence, as sure
and unshakable and content as the circling path of stars. Whoever
Obi-Wan's beloved was, they couldn't possibly be worthy of such
unswerving devotion, such a vast depth of love, not if they were
blind enough to turn it away. And that hurt as well, because
Obi-Wan deserved so much, deserved to know the equal of that
love, at least once in his life.
From someone other than his poor, foolish Master.
"I know," Obi-Wan snorted, shrugging once more as his
needle flashed again. "I'm just not interested. I guess I'm
a romantic, but...it seems like it should mean something
if I spend the night with someone. More than just being happy
that I'm alive, anyway. Maybe I'm being foolish..."
"Not at all," Qui-Gon smiled gently, resting the tips
of his fingers on the arms of his chair, watching Obi-Wan's
steady hands at their task. "It's commendable, not foolish.
Most people your age never even realize there's a
difference."
"Did you?" Obi-Wan asked after a moment, looking up
shyly.
"Me? Force, no!" Qui-Gon smiled, self-deprecatingly.
"I still shudder to think how incredibly naive I was at
twenty-two--at thirty-two, for that matter. I was completely
convinced that just because I liked being with someone, it had to
be love," he shrugged with a sigh, letting himself sink down
even further in his chair and clasping his hands over his
stomach. Stretching his legs out, he considered the toes of his
boots as he added, "It took me a very long time to realize
what love really felt like."
Obi-Wan had stopped his mending, watching his Master's face with
unconcealed fascination. This wasn't the kind of talk they'd ever
had before, after all...Qui-Gon only hoped Obi-Wan didn't guess
who it was that had taught Qui-Gon that feeling, the one he had
wrestled with for years now, alone. Master and Padawan...there
was just something incestuous about it, no matter what the other
Masters said. He wasn't Obi-Wan's father--he was more, much more,
than any father could ever have been to this man. Even his former
Master Yoda couldn't convince him that this was quite right.
But it was love. He needed no convincing on that score.
"Well?" Obi-Wan demanded suddenly, and Qui-Gon blinked,
distracted. "You can't stop there--what does it feel
like?" Obi-Wan grinned, fond tolerance in his voice.
Chuckling, Qui-Gon laced and unlaced his fingers, searching for
the right words. "It's...when you'll die for someone, but
you're happier to live for them, to make them happy. When their
happiness, their well-being, means more to you than your own.
When you find yourself changing to fit them, but your changing is
growth, not abandoning parts of yourself--and you can help them
grow, as well. When...when you don't have to say anything. Love
lives in the silences," he shrugged at last,
half-embarrassed at himself, though it had felt
good...unreasonably good to have said something at last, even
though Obi-Wan would remain blind to it. As always.
"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded into the hush that followed
Qui-Gon's words, smiling a little as he stared into the fire.
"Yes, that's exactly how it feels..."
"Then...you're in love?" Qui-Gon couldn't help asking,
and though it just might tear his heart out, he did want
to know who it was that had captured Obi-Wan's heart so
thoroughly. Maybe he could contrive to bump into him or her in
the hall, or teach a class, anything to find out whether that
same love was returned to his Obi-Wan, against all hope. If he
could have given it to Obi-Wan, he would have...but he wanted his
padawan to be happy, to know love, even more than he wanted to be
the one to give it. It was by a narrow margin indeed, that
selflessness, but it made all the difference in the universe.
"Yes," Obi-Wan shrugged quietly, still staring into the
fire. "I...have been for years," he admitted, his lips
quirking as he glanced over at Qui-Gon. It almost broke his heart
to see no new expression on his padawan's face, neither joy nor
pain, only acceptance and a trace of humor--as if he had grown so
used to being alone, being without, that it had become
commonplace.
"Years?" Qui-Gon repeated, and Obi-Wan nodded again,
his eyes clear and open.
"Since I was fifteen, really," Obi-Wan offered, and
Qui-Gon knew some of his sorrow must have shown on his face by
the reassuring smile that spread across Obi-Wan's. "It's
okay," his padawan was quick to say, "it's not a bad
thing. We're friends, and I see him all the time, and...he trusts
me," he shrugged, but there was the smile Qui-Gon had
hoped to see, a touch of wonder in its fierce sweetness. "I
know he doesn't see me like that, but that's okay, so long as we
can be together."
"You haven't said anything," Qui-Gon hazarded a guess,
swallowing his protests.
Obi-Wan shook his head, almost shyly. "No. I'd rather never
know than ruin what we have. I already have so much..."
"But you have so much to give..." It slipped out before
he could stop himself, but Obi-Wan only smiled, a faint blush
staining his cheeks as he looked away. "I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to embarrass you," Qui-Gon tried to apologize, but
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"It's not...I...thank you, Master," Obi-Wan grinned,
glancing at Qui-Gon out of the corner of his eye. "That
means a lot, coming from you."
"I would have said it earlier, if I'd known," Qui-Gon
declared staunchly, and though Obi-Wan blushed even harder, he
didn't seem put out by the compliment. "Obi-Wan--you really
can leave that for the morning," he nodded towards his robe,
deciding to steer the conversation back to more neutral topics
before he said something he couldn't take back.
"It's all right," Obi-Wan shook his head, biting off
the thread as he finished mending yet another rent where shrapnel
had torn through the thick cloth. It looked almost as good as
new, Obi-Wan's neat, tiny stitches blending invisibly with the
fabric. "I'm happy to do it."
And he was happy, the kind of quiet content Qui-Gon had
grown to associate with love in his padawan, an undemonstrative
sense of rightness with the world and his place in it that
nothing could ever shake. It had seen Obi-Wan through danger and
pain and uncertainty, always with him, and it was never so strong
as in these quiet moments together.
Together.
//It can't be,// he told himself in the deepest corner of his
mind, shock and hope held captive there with him, because he was
too wary by far to let such hostages rage free. //It's my own
wants talking...I can't be right...// But when Obi-Wan looked up
at him again, Qui-Gon found a smile for him that made Obi-Wan
beam, and that quiet feeling increased tenfold within his
padawan's heart.
"Obi-Wan...you're sure he doesn't see you...like that?"
he asked slowly, and Obi-Wan blinked, a brief flicker of
confusion darting mildly across his face, as if it had never
occurred to him to question such an incontrovertible fact.
"Nearly certain," Obi-Wan nodded, smiling wryly.
"And I'm just a padawan..."
"You're not just anything," Qui-Gon chuckled,
and Obi-Wan was torn between gratification and self-consciousness
again, pulling Qui-Gon's heavy robe closer into his lap.
"My head's not going to fit through the doors," Obi-Wan
muttered under his breath, and Qui-Gon laughed out loud,
helplessly.
"Then maybe I should give you compliments more often,
Padawan--we could use it as an object lesson on the dangers of
Pride."
"I'd rather you just kicked me around the practice ring
again," Obi-Wan grumbled. "That should take care of any
excess pride I might have..."
"One of these days, you'll outdo your old Master,"
Qui-Gon assured him, still turning the problem over in his head,
the clues, the hope.
"You're not old, Master." Obi-Wan met his eyes
unflinchingly as he said it, utter conviction in his tone, and
there it was again, that love, so deeply hidden and so easy to
find once you knew it was there...and he wanted to be worthy of
it, wanted to be right.
"And you," he said quietly, sitting forward in his
chair, "are no longer so young as all that. 'Just a padawan'
indeed."
"Master?" He could feel the press of Obi-Wan's hope
like a soft, silvery light against their bond, and it reminded
him of that empty marble hall where he had first known hope of
his own, where his padawan had turned down two of the most
powerful people in the Republic...for him.
"That's not how I see you," Qui-Gon murmured,
holding Obi-Wan's eyes seriously. "Not for years, now."
Obi-Wan couldn't answer, but his expression was transformed by
wistfulness and need, a silent plea for all to be as it seemed.
Slowly, Qui-Gon shifted out of his chair, dropping to his knees
before his padawan and reaching out with a hand that shook only
slightly, stroking his thumb down the smoothness of the unwounded
cheek. "If I'm wrong," Qui-Gon breathed with an
uncertain smile, "you'd better tell me now..."
"No," Obi-Wan whispered, his hands clenched on the robe
he held in his lap. "You're not wrong..."
"It was me?" He had to ask, had to hear it from
Obi-Wan's own lips...
Obi-Wan swallowed hard, but he was smiling, eyes brilliant by
firelight. "All along."
Qui-Gon opened himself up to their bond then, placing his own
love in Obi-Wan's hands as he leaned forward and caught Obi-Wan's
lips with his own. The soft sound Obi-Wan made as Qui-Gon's
tongue flicked out buzzed between them ticklishly, and they were
smiling as Obi-Wan allowed him entrance, his padawan's taste
exploding across all his senses, light and sweetness and stroking
velvet.
Plucking his robe from Obi-Wan's nerveless fingers, Qui-Gon set
it gently aside and took one of Obi-Wan's hands in his own, the
other sliding around the younger man's nape and holding him
close. Obi-Wan's braid fell satiny-soft against his wrist, but
the reminder wasn't an unpleasant one--there didn't seem to be
anything wrong with this at all, anymore, nothing but a faint
feeling of self-reproach that he hadn't opened his eyes sooner.
It had been easy to be blind at first, convinced that Obi-Wan had
no interest in anyone, and then he had told himself that his own
feelings didn't matter because Obi-Wan was already in love with
another... He'd thought Obi-Wan oblivious, but it had been both
of them, both of them...
//None so blind,// he thought disjointedly to himself, but
Obi-Wan heard and laughed, forgiving, agreeing.
He didn't have to ask to know he was Obi-Wan's first, but even
the fumblings were charming, and Obi-Wan had no fear, no shame.
Stretched naked by the fire, Obi-Wan arched up into every touch,
the ripple of lean muscle under golden skin made liquid by
firelight. Baring his neck for Qui-Gon's kisses, Obi-Wan's
fingers tangled in long hair, freeing it to curtain their faces
as Obi-Wan pulled him up again, mouths fastening hungrily upon
each other. If they stayed just like this forever, Qui-Gon could
find it in himself to die a happy man...
But Obi-Wan pulled back at last, letting his head drop back to
the robe Qui-Gon had given him for a pillow, and his hand on
Qui-Gon's cheek was warm and gentle. An invitation, and a
promise. Qui-Gon took it.
Kissing a meandering path down his apprentice's body, Qui-Gon
took his time, delighting in the soft music of Obi-Wan's moans
and whispers, in the taste and scent of smooth skin beneath him.
Teasing Obi-Wan's pebbled nipples with teeth and tongue, he
waited until Obi-Wan was nearly frantic before exploring the
smooth lattice of ribs, the iron of a flat stomach whose muscles
jerked ticklishly when Qui-Gon swirled his tongue around the
tempting navel. And then he was dipping his head lower, curling
his tongue around a hard, perfect cock, wrapping his lips around
the head as he lapped at the clear fluid that slicked it.
Swallowing deep, and Obi-Wan was begging him, begging...
"Please..." as careful hands cupped his head, stroking
his hair back from his face. "Please, I want you in me...I
need you..."
He pulled up off Obi-Wan's length carefully, and though Obi-Wan
whimpered as Qui-Gon raised his head, his padawan met his eyes
fearlessly. "Are you...?"
"I'm sure," Obi-Wan smiled, leaving Qui-Gon lightheaded
and bemused.
"Bed," Qui-Gon insisted, and Obi-Wan let himself be
pulled to his feet, standing so close, Qui-Gon could feel the
other man breathe before the warm air caressed his skin.
There was oil in his pack, and he fetched it as they went,
Obi-Wan grinning cheerfully as he realized what it was for. There
was no hesitation in him at all, only trust and love, and Qui-Gon
swore silently to do everything in his power to live up to that
gift. Anticipation without apprehension...and as Obi-Wan proved
what a quick study he was in all things, Qui-Gon let go of the
rest of his doubts, sinking into this moment with his beloved
like a man coming home.
"No," Obi-Wan murmured when Qui-Gon would have turned
him over, hoping to make it easier on him. "I want to see
you..." A dozen lines of protest leaped instantly to
Qui-Gon's lips, but Obi-Wan smiled and drew his legs up, baring
himself to his Master's touch. Qui-Gon knew he was lost, but he
couldn't seem to care, watching Obi-Wan's face avidly as the
first slicked digit teased his opening and slid finally inside.
Obi-Wan's lashes dipped lower with each finger Qui-Gon added,
lips parting as he began to rock up into their careful stroking.
Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan willing his body to relax, but there
was no pain coming back to him through their bond, only a rising
pleasure that left Obi-Wan panting, soft pleas and moans spilling
from his lips. There was almost no transition as Qui-Gon replaced
his fingers with his cock, easing the way with the Force as he
slid into Obi-Wan's body in a single smooth stroke.
"Master," Obi-Wan groaned, wrapping his legs tightly
around Qui-Gon and grabbing fistfuls of the sheet, fighting for
control. Qui-Gon waited, biting his lip as Obi-Wan writhed
beneath him, tight heat pulsing around Qui-Gon's cock. When
Obi-Wan was ready... "Master, please..." It was barely
a whimper, but it was enough. Sliding his hands beneath Obi-Wan's
knees, he pushed them up and back and began to thrust, each
stroke burying him deeply in his beloved. Obi-Wan's soft whispers
of encouragement spurred him on, but it was the love he heard,
not the desire, that made resistance so impossible to
contemplate.
Crying out wordlessly when Qui-Gon found the perfect angle,
Obi-Wan writhed again, his control falling away as his cock
pulsed out its seed between them. Just watching Obi-Wan's face as
he came was enough to send Qui-Gon over the edge, emptying
himself in his lover as those deep blue eyes flickered open
again, locking with his own. //So beautiful,// he thought
helplessly, sending it along their bond wrapped in love and pride
and desire, and Obi-Wan cupped his cheek as their bodies stilled
at last.
"Yes," Obi-Wan smiled as Qui-Gon shifted, pulling
carefully out of his beloved so they could twine together like
cats and rest, sleep. "Yes, you are."
Qui-Gon would have made another remark about blindness, blindness
and love, but he had been foolish enough for one lifetime. Better
to accept this incredible gift he had been given as meekly as
possible and spend his time trying to deserve it rather than
arguing with it.
And if he was very lucky, they could stay just this blind
forever.
***
end
***