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."
"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.
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