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The twin suns had not yet cast their bright light over the hills of Genya when Qui-Gon Jinn awoke. He slipped off warm, sleepy comfort as easily as he would a cloak, his mind immediately alert. His breathing remained regular and his body perfectly still, staying true to his promise to let his young padawan sleep until dawn.
Said padawan was currently snuggled tightly against his side, a thoroughly annoying whistling sound coming from his slightly open mouth. A mouth which was leaving a damp patch of spittle on Qui-Gon's sleep tunic. Still, it was not his place to begrudge the sleeping arrangements that the Genyans had kindly provided for the pair as they worked to help the government unravel the mystery of who was tampering with incoming shipments of off-world grain.
Sharing such close quarters with his padawan merely reminded Qui-Gon that it was becoming imperative that he have a serious talk with the boy. Obi-Wan had been raised in the Jedi Temple for his first twelve years of life and was only now truly beginning to understand parts of the underbelly of life: greed, malice, prejudice...lust.
Qui-Gon was increasingly aware that his young apprentice was becoming a man, if not yet entirely in mind, then certainly in body. His lanky, slightly awkward boy, composed mostly of elbows and knees was growing into a tall, well-built young man right under his nose.
In years past when the pair had shared a bed, Qui-Gon had secretly enjoyed waking up with Obi-Wan's lithe, warm body pressed to him, his life Force a comforting presence so close to him. These days, when he awoke this early, it was often to find something even warmer pressing most insistently into his thigh. Yes, Qui-Gon realised that this was a perfectly normal adolescent reaction, a completely unconscious physical occurrence. The thing that disturbed him, that occupied his thoughts on mornings such as these, was the fact that it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep his body from reacting in kind.
Beside him, Obi-Wan sighed, the arm draped across Qui-Gon's chest tightening convulsively as its owner burrowed his head further into Qui-Gon's side. The tiny exhalation of breath caused Qui-Gon to raise the corner of his mouth in a small smile. In moments like these, Obi-Wan seemed so young, so different from the rebellious and oftentimes contrary adolescent who made himself known in the waking hours.
As soon as the first rays of rosy light shone through the square window, barely illuminating the small clay-walled room, Qui-Gon drew a deep, wakeful breath, his chest puffing out as his lungs filled with the thick morning air. Obi-Wan tensed, sensing his master awaken, then relaxed, hoping to feign sleep for a few more precious minutes.
Qui-Gon schooled his features into a stern frown, yet was truthfully amused by this morning routine.
"Padawan, it is dawn," he said quietly yet firmly.
Silence.
"Padawan." Qui-Gon allowed a note of warning to enter his voice.
A groan, a squeezing tight of the eyelids, then a sigh.
"Very well, Master. Still, I hold to my belief that sunrise here comes abnormally early,"
Obi-Wan's voice was scratchy, heavy with vestiges of slumber, and the vibration of his mouth, still touching Qui-Gon's side, sent a not-quite-unpleasant shiver through the elder Jedi Knight.
Centring his thoughts, Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan's arm off his chest and rose from the lumpy hay mattress to gather his clothes. Obi-Wan continued stretching cat-like on the bed, and Qui-Gon carefully kept his eyes averted from the tempting sight of the handsome young man's muscles rippling under his nightshirt.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan vaulted off of the bed, somersaulting in the air, and landed lightly beside his master, a small smile playing about his lips. "I'm up," he said.
"So I see. Now that you are up, feel free to fetch us some breakfast," Qui-Gon retorted, tying his hair back with a leather tie.
"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan, pulling on his clothes, and began searching under the wooden bed frame for his left sandal. Without a word, Qui-Gon retrieved it from the far corner and handed it to the boy.
Obi-Wan smiled rather sheepishly, slipped the shoe on, and strode out the door.
It was less than a minute before the screaming began.
The sound, first a man and woman, and then a whole chorus of angry shouts brought Qui-Gon running from his room into the courtyard at top speed, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his lightsaber. His hopes that the pandaemonium beginning exactly when Obi-Wan had left the room was merely a coincidence were dashed when he saw the large, angry, mob gathering around his padawan. Obi-Wan's eyes met his over the heads of the Genyans, whose large, bobbing, antennae barely pushed them over the five foot mark.
Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes were filled with confusion and apprehension. He made no move to draw his lightsaber, for while the Genoans were brandishing spears and a few blasters, they seemed more outraged than homicidal.
Pushing his way through the mob, Qui-Gon reached his student's side and turned to the crowd.
"What is going on?" he demanded.
This was obviously the wrong thing to say, as the crowd exploded in a cacophony of renewed sound and fury.
"I'm sorry, Master, I thought he was hurting her." Obi-Wan pleaded softly, a faint blush tinging his fair cheeks.
Thinking that he must surely be losing his mind, Qui-Gon began to ask what in the world his student could have possibly managed to do in such a short time to warrant such a reaction, when two figures made their way from the centre of the crowd and stepped forward. Qui-Gon recognised them immediately as Lua and Giam, the landlord and lady who owned the terrace where Obi-Wan and he had been staying. Both were obviously naked, wrapped in what looked to be bed sheets, and both were flustered and flushed. Noticing the rapidly darkening bruise on Lua's cheek, Qui-Gon suppressed a groan, realizing what his young apprentice must have done.
While weighing the options of fleeing the mob and making their way to the consulate, Qui-Gon was relieved to notice High Chancellor Duk parting the crowd, waddling up to the pair with a frown marring his smooth blue features.
"Ah, High Chancellor, it is good to see you. It seems that my apprentice here inadvertently caused a bit of a scene. If we may have a word with you, I'm sure that we can resolve this," said Qui-Gon in his most diplomatic voice.
"Of course, Jedi, we must rectify this situation immediately, for inadvertent or not, a grave offense to the gods has taken place."
Qui-Gon chanced a quick look towards Obi-Wan, who merely shrugged, before the two followed the short figure down the dusty street. Behind them, the mob continued its chattering, filling in newcomers on what had transpired.
The High Consulate was a towering building of shimmering marble, spiralled with silver. The doorways, however, were better suited to Genyan stature, and Qui-Gon had to duck to enter the main chamber, with Obi-Wan following closely behind him. The trio sat on velvet cushions as the chancellor's bodyguards immediately flanked their sovereign.
Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan gently touched their foreheads, eyes, mouths, and ears with their fingertips as a sign of respect before addressing the chancellor.
"Now, your Highness, I must admit that I was not present when this situation arose, and I am not completely certain as to what happened..." began Qui-Gon.
"Perhaps you should ask your student that," said the High Chancellor, an accusatory, almost sarcastic tone lacing his voice.
Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow and waited for Obi-Wan to begin, pleased that he could feel the boy's quick rise of anger dissipate in a heartbeat.
Obi-Wan took a breath, and in neutral tones, reported, "I left our room as I was instructed, and planned on seeking out our hosts to inquire about breakfast. I found them in the courtyard, on top of the stone altar in the middle of the square. Lua was...on top of his wife, holding her down. She was groaning...I thought she was hurt..."
Though seeing his student battling his rising embarrassment, Qui-Gon motioned for him to continue.
"There were many people gathered, standing close to the houses, not making any move to stop him. I honestly thought that Giam was in danger. I grabbed Lua's arm and hit him. Giam was yelling for me to stop, and that was when everyone rushed up to me. I tried to apologise to Lua, but he and his wife disappeared into the crowd, presumably to find some more...modest attire for themselves. I am truly sorry for the trouble I caused. If there is anything that I can do to apologise for my actions, I gladly shall." With that, he ducked his head in deference and waited for a response.
There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, the chancellor's blazing red eyes glaring through Obi-Wan before he spoke. "I see that you truly know not what you did. As a result of your violent, and thoughtless actions however, the entire city shall go without food for a day."
Obi-Wan's head jerked up quickly, his puzzled, uncomprehending expression identical to Qui-Gon's.
"Excuse me Chancellor, but I'm afraid that we do not understand. My student has apologised for his mistake, and I give you my word that he will be reprimanded. If it is an issue of virtue's protection, I feel I must point out that the couple in question were conducting their relations in a most public place. I do not see why an unfortunate mistake, obviously on both parties' sides, should punish the entire population of your city," said Qui-Gon, with a rising feeling of apprehension as to what his student had gotten them involved in.
The chancellor glanced sidelong at his bodyguards, then at the Jedi pair, seemingly now confused himself.
"I see that you know very little about the ways of our people, Jedi. What your student interrupted was the sacred Je'tha. Our daily ritual where seed is spilt on the altar for the Goddess Ilyasha, so that we may be worthy to eat the food she bestows upon us. We have already displeased her, as she has shown in the poisoning of our grain, and now, things will only become worse. We called you here to help us and you have only brought more suffering to our land."
"Is there no way that I may make amends, your Highness?" asked Obi-Wan.
"The only way is to make an new offering to the goddess. Something strong enough to... Boy, how old are you?" asked the Chancellor, with the look of a man with an idea.
Obi-Wan told him.
A smile spread across the Chancellor's round face, "And you have not yet committed Pah're?"
"Excuse me?" asked Obi-Wan politely.
"You have not yet made love to another?" clarified the chancellor.
"With all due respect, your Highness, I don't see why that is any business of yours," interrupted Qui-Gon, speaking softly, yet with an underlying warning.
"It's all right, Master. No I have not," replied Obi-Wan calmly, if a little cautiously.
"As I had hoped—though a little unexpected considering the ways of the Jedi as I have heard them. If you truly wish to help our people, the only way is to offer your Pah're to the goddess," explained the chancellor.
Qui-Gon rose swiftly to his feet, grabbing his student by the arm and dragging him up along with him. "I don't think I like where this is turning, your Highness. I believe that my apprentice and I shall take our leave now. We will arrange for another knight to be sent out to help with your situation, and we will warn them against disturbing your religious ceremonies."
Obi-Wan was surprised to feel the tiny seed of anger begin to blossom in his master's life Force. Qui-Gon was the most controlled knight he had ever encountered, and he was ashamed at his own feeling of pride that rose in him at the thought of Qui-Gon defending his honour.
The bodyguards stepped forward, hands reaching for the blasters holstered to their sides as the chancellor stood.
"I am afraid that your offering is the only way to get into the Great Goddess' good favours again. If you do not cooperate, our people will not be fed, and you will be responsible for their hunger. I thought that the word of a Jedi was to be trusted." The chancellor spoke harshly.
Qui-Gon silently reached out with the Force to his young padawan along the bond they shared, lending him a calming presence to help the boy rein in his temper. But Obi-Wan surprised him by shrugging it off, squaring his shoulders, and calmly staring the chancellor directly in the eyes.
"All right, your Highness," replied Obi-Wan evenly, "I will do it."
Qui-Gon relaxed his tensed muscles and calmed himself. Obi-Wan chose the strangest times to act as a true Jedi, and by the resolute set of his jaw, Qui-Gon could tell that it would take much convincing to talk him out of this ridiculous idea. Still, it would not do to show weakness in front of the chancellor.
Putting on his most benign expression, he addressed the sovereign. "If you would excuse us a moment, I must have a moment with my student—"
But he was interrupted by Obi-Wan, who raised a hand and said, "Just a moment, Master. First I would like to hear exactly what this ceremony entails."
Obi-Wan knew full well that Qui-Gon would not reprimand him before the chancellor and used that to buy himself some time before his master bombarded him with the thousands of reasons why this was a bad idea. Truthfully, he was frightened of what lay ahead—all the whispered rumours and dark innuendo he'd heard in his life running through his mind—but he remained resolved that no Genyan should go hungry as a result of his ignorant folly.
"Very well, young Jedi, you have made a most honourable decision. May the gods smile on you. Guards! Call for the Diosys!" called the chancellor, his voice echoing in the large stone room.
The room then fell silent, yet a most heated argument was noiselessly communicated between the two Jedi: Qui-Gon sending clear warnings, his eyes flashing, while Obi-Wan stood his ground, obstinate, his chin stuck out defiantly.
A soft rustling sound broke their gazes as the pair watched the colourful procession of robed, young Genyans enter the room. The only sound was from the hems of their long red cloaks brushing against the marble floor. The children were lined up two by two, led by a large man, nearly six feet tall, immense for his species. They stopped in front of the seated chancellor, made their ritualistic signs of respect, then waited, silent.
"There are two acceptable sacrifices which you may make to appease the goddess," began the Chancellor, leaving a pause for the Diosys and his followers to softly whisper what was assumed to be prayers. "Since you do not have a betrothed, you may either allow your body to be taken by our most honourable Diosys, or you may yourself be allowed to use the body of one of his trainees to release your seed."
With that, he motioned to the child followers, each staring into space, unhearing. They were all beautiful children, with large eyes and smooth blue skin. The oldest ones looked pubescent, but barely.
Qui-Gon watched his student's eyes roam over the Diosys, a large, heavy-set man, who was openly leering back. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, carefully schooled his features, and made the decision that Qui-Gon knew was inevitable, yet dreaded just the same.
"I will allow the honourable Diosys use of my body to appease your goddess, if that is what it takes to make amends," said Obi-Wan, wearing his dignity wrapped tightly around himself.
"Very well, young Jedi. You are to meet the Diosys by the Altar of Insah before dawn tomorrow. You are to bathe first in the essence of the Iala flower, which will be provided for you. On behalf of the people of Genya, we thank you," the chancellor announced, and dismissed the pair with a wave of his hand.
As Qui-Gon left the chamber with his apprentice, he could barely suppress a shudder at the way the Diosys' penetrating gaze followed Obi-Wan.
Once the two had left the premises, Qui-Gon gripped his padawan's arm in a iron grip and pulled him into the nearest alley. Obi-Wan was pushed against the wall, and Qui-Gon used all of his energy to keep anger from rising up in his heart and mind.
Keeping his voice level, he spoke almost pleasantly. "What exactly do you think you're doing, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan met his stare and calmly replied, "We have already established that should I refuse, the people will be deprived of food. Even if we were to appeal to the council, it could take weeks before any determinative action could be taken. If you are referring to my choice of partners, however, you saw how young those children were. I apologise if I'm being insolent, but I feel as if the Force is willing this. I believe that I am doing the right thing."
Obi-Wan's words were brave, but Qui-Gon could sense the tiny inkling of fear, a chink in his protective armour of the Force. Though what he didn't know was that his student now felt more fear of disappointing his master than of the act to which he had committed himself.
"I too am sorry, Obi-Wan. You merely choose the worst time to exercise your wisdom. I am used to having to deal with your impetuous sense of justice. I still wish that there were some other way. I do not like that man. You deserve someone better for your first...foray," admitted Qui-Gon, not daring to mention that he had secretly hoped it would someday be him.
Obi-Wan smiled a bitter little smile and shook his head. "You heard the chancellor. My only other option lay in having a betrothed. It is rather...pathetic that it took religious duty to convince someone to have me. Though it really isn't all that surprising, considering I couldn't even recognise the act when it was literally right under my nose."
"...a betrothed," Qui-Gon muttered in remembrance. "Stay here," he ordered firmly, knowing full well that his apprentice would be two steps behind.
He marched back to the consulate, pushing his way past the guards with some none-too-subtle manipulation of the Force. Then he presented himself before the chancellor and staked his claim.
Following closely on his heels, Obi-Wan stepped into the chamber just in time to hear his master announce himself the betrothed of one Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Obi-Wan froze, certain that he had misheard him. The idea that Qui-Gon would volunteer...but of course. His master was only putting himself up to this indignity to spare him from what he perceived as a worse experience with the Diosys. Though what exactly was to transpire, Obi-Wan was still not completely certain. He prepared to cut in, but as soon as he tried to speak, he felt the Force emanating from his master push him back, keeping him silent and in place. Obi-Wan hated the feeling; it was stifling, far different from the comforting, soothing blanket of power that Qui-Gon usually wrapped around him.
Still in a daze, Obi-Wan mutely watched the chancellor accept Qui-Gon's claim, and he then let himself be led out of the consulate with his master's hand at his back. Only when they had once again left the building and stood blinking in the morning sunlight did Obi-Wan manage to find his voice.
"There was no need for you to do that, Master," he said quietly, trying to keep the challenge out of his voice.
"What makes you think I didn't want to?" replied Qui-Gon, equally as quietly, as he strode away from his gaping student, down the road and back towards their temporary dwelling.
Obi-Wan caught up to him, and as the two unconsciously fell into perfect step with each other, he tried to think of the right question to ask his master that could dispel his confusion.
Before he could find the most accurate words, Qui-Gon interrupted his thoughts, saying, "Forget this for the time being. Instead, we must focus on the task that we were sent here for. We will discuss the situation later." His tone was firm, and Obi-Wan—who had learned to choose his battles carefully&mdashdid not try to argue.
The afternoon was spent examining records of all business transactions relating to food imports from the last six months. They worked in silence in the cool government library, and spoke little to each other as they interviewed local businessmen. They soon came to the obvious conclusion that all dealers who had received the tainted shipments had recently refused to pay "insurance money" to a notorious dealer, a Hutt named Glug. The council was notified and a team closer to the Hutt's last known whereabouts were dispatched. Obi-Wan was grateful that while they sat in their room, speaking to the holographic image of Master Windu, Qui-Gon made no mention of the morning's other activities.
Qui-Gon bade the council member farewell, and the two sat together on the bed, experiencing the first awkward silence between them in quite some time. Qui-Gon was the first to speak.
"I apologise if I have made you uncomfortable, my padawan." While the words were simple, it served mostly as a signal to Obi-Wan that the subject was now open for discussion.
Obi-Wan chose his words carefully. "I know that nothing I may say would change your mind...however, I thought that you would rather I go through this with someone else."
At his master's confused look, he continued, "I mean that I know from my training exercises that you do not like to cause me pain. I don't understand why you feel that you must...do this."
Qui-Gon looked contemplative. "How much do you actually know about the act of sex?" he asked the young man gently.
"Only what little I saw and heard at the temple when I was younger. I know that some of the boys would...touch each other. Once...once an older boy made a younger one lie with him. The younger one was in the infirmary for days, and eventually had to be sent to the Agri-corps. The older boy was sent home." Obi-Wan tried desperately not to shudder at the memory of peering into the med-room and seeing the stark, red, blood staining the white sheets.
Qui-Gon winced. No wonder the boy had shown no interest in losing his virginity, at least in his waking hours. He searched for the right words to explain the way sex could truly be, wishing that he had had the sense to have this discussion with his student long ago.
"Obi-Wan, that is not the way it should be. What happened between the elder and younger boy was rape: the taking of another without their consent or concern for their pleasure. I would not hurt you for all the universe, so I must know if you will truly be all right with us following through with the ritual...together."
"Master, you know that I love you, and that I trust you more than anyone else. I just feel that I am entering this with both eyes shut. I do not know...anything." Obi-Wan had not felt so young or naive for many years, but though he was lacking the facts, his mind was beginning to correlate certain feelings, urges: the strange times when he awoke aroused, or with sticky sheets, and the way he knew that somehow, the way seeing his master's smile could bring a flush to his face and the way Qui-Gon's touch would sometimes make him feel strangely hot all might have something to do with love beyond that of a padawan for his teacher.
"Then you may ask me anything that you want, and if you do not feel comfortable, then we shall find a way to get out of this," said Qui-Gon in the same reassuring tones that he used with his student when he was still a child.
Obi-Wan gave great thought to what questions he wished to ask. Being offered free information from his master was not an opportunity to be wasted, and the wrong query could only serve to worsen the tension between the two.
Carefully, he began, "I have three questions. Firstly, what does the...joining...between two men involve? Secondly, why do...why do men do such a thing if it does not result in reproduction as it does between man and woman? And thirdly, what exactly did the chancellor mean when he expressed surprise that I have not yet experienced sex 'knowing the way of the Jedi'?"
Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully and lay back on the bed, making himself comfortable for what he knew would be a long explanation. He was pleased when Obi-Wan settled beside him, resting his head on his shoulder. He was admittedly worried that working through issues like these would drive a permanent wedge between the two. Obi-Wan's comforting warmth gave him the strength to approach this next step in their relationship.
"Very good questions. I will try to answer them to the best of my ability. Firstly, there are three ways that men can make love. The first is by stoking each other between the legs, as you mentioned your fellow students doing. The second is by taking each other's penis into their mouths." He paused at Obi-Wan's confused look. Continuing without colouring was difficult, as he was unused to verbalising such acts.
"If someone takes a man's penis into their mouth...and kisses it, or sucks it gently, it may cause...pleasurable feelings for the man. The third way is for one man to enter the other. Do you understand what I mean by that?"
Obi-Wan nodded, his cheeks flushed, as he unconsciously clenched his buttocks.
"Now, if this act is done properly, both of the men experience pleasure and very little pain. The reason your classmate was hurt was because the boy that penetrated him did not use proper lubrication. If the passage is lubricated, there is less friction and should be no harm."
"Your second question is a little more difficult to answer. There are different reasons that men lie together. Some do it merely to experience the physical responses that are very pleasurable, but that is not true joining. Joining is just that, a form of bonding. It is loving another enough to want to give them pleasure, and trusting them enough to do the same for you. It is...wanting to give over everything that you are to another. It is very hard to communicate..."
Obi-Wan softly cut in: "That part I believe I understand, Master." He shifted his head against his teacher's shoulder, the fine spikes of his sandy hair softly brushing against Qui-Gon's bearded cheek.
Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice's warm love flow over him through their bond, and for just a second thought he could feel a spark of desire flash on Obi-Wan's part. At first he passed it off for wishful thinking, but as he let his mind rove along their shared stream of consciousness, he began to feel a deep sense of realisation, of understanding, of acceptance. A smile graced Qui-Gon's face as he sensed the Force drawing them together.
"Yes, I believe you do, Obi-Wan. And so this leads me to my third answer. The chancellor was referring to the fact that the love between Master and Padawan may sometimes grow so strong that the two begin a more physical relationship."
"I see. And you did not see fit to tell me this because..." asked Obi-Wan.
"I was waiting for the right moment, the perfect moment I suppose. I must admit that I oftentimes do not realise that you are indeed becoming a man."
"If I may ask a fourth question, Master?"
Qui-Gon nodded, and waited as Obi-Wan worked through his gnawing apprehension.
"If I had not gotten us into this...public display, would you have someday approached me about this?"
"No," said Qui-Gon, and felt every muscle in his student's body tense, the link between them suddenly snapping shut. Before Obi-Wan could get up, Qui-Gon touched his cheek softly, and continued.
"You would have come to me. You were always too bold for your own good," he said fondly, his heart melting at the sight of the beautiful smile lighting up his student's handsome face.
"Now, if I may ask you a question," Qui-Gon asked. "Have you ever touched yourself...to bring yourself pleasure?"
Obi-Wan's face turned bright scarlet, a mixture of puritanical shock and embarrassment at the physical stirrings in those words from his master's lips caused in his trousers.
"...yes. But not often. I...the feeling was strange. It felt like the Force rose so strongly in me that I could not control it. I felt as if I were being swept away by a giant tidal wave...I do not know how to explain it. I didn't know if it was normal..."
Qui-Gon nodded. "And who did you think of, those times you did pleasure yourself?"
A delicious shiver passed through Obi-Wan with those words. Qui-Gon's voice was low, hypnotic, making Obi-Wan feel relaxed, and yet full of lightning at the same time.
"You, Master," he replied, truthfully, wincing as his voice cracked.
A devilish grin settled on Qui-Gon's face as he leaned down to whisper in his apprentice's ear, his breath tickling the tiny curled hairs on Obi-Wan's neck.
"Show me."
Biting his lip, Obi-Wan looked at his Master uncertainly. He suddenly looked so heartbreakingly young that Qui-Gon felt like a corrupting influence, a dirty old man. Then, his padawan apparently reached some inner decision, and he grinned a truly wicked grin, an almost feral light shining in his eyes.
He sat up and unbelted his heavy brown cloak, slipping his arms from the oversized sleeves and letting it fall back onto the bed. Then he kicked off his sandals, sending them flying to opposite corners of the room while Qui-Gon watched him intently.
His master's scrutiny did not make him feel anxious, but curiously emboldened, imbuing Obi-Wan with a feeling of authority that he had never experienced before. He was amazed at how quickly Qui-Gon's breathing quickened as his hand strayed towards his shirt hem. He slipped the worn cotton shirt over his head, curious when his nipples contracted tightly as if he were cold, even though the room was filled with warm evening air and nary a breeze stirred.
Obi-Wan looked over at his teacher, noting with wonder the way his pupils had dilated until barely a sliver of blue iris was visible, like a solar eclipse...he could almost see the fire burning behind them.
Qui-Gon said not a word, his eyes drawn magnetically to the sizable erection tenting Obi-Wan's white cotton trousers. Yes, his apprentice was growing into a man indeed...
Hooking his thumbs under his waistband, Obi-Wan slowly tugged his trousers down over his slim hips, lifting off the bed to work them down his thighs, squirming to get them to his knees, then wiggling them off from around his ankles.
Qui-Gon's breath caught in his throat as he watched this lovely young creature writhing so seductively beside him. The play of taut muscles under fair, lightly sun-kissed skin filled him with a wave of sweet lust and affection.
Trailing his left hand slowly down his chest, Obi-Wan teased first one nipple, then the other, incredulous as to how sensitised his entire body was to every caress, the best being the gentle touch of his master's gaze on his naked skin. For the first time in his entire life, Obi-Wan felt truly attractive.
Sensing his student's thoughts, Qui-Gon whispered, "You are beautiful, my padawan."
Obi-Wan blushed and smiled, moving his hand down his stomach, and closed his eyes—then opened them again when he felt callused fingertips brush gently against his eyelids. He gazed up to see his master lying on his side, leaning slightly over him, staring at him intently.
Qui-Gon took hold of Obi-Wan's hand and brought it up to his lips. He brushed his lips softly over the knuckles, taking each finger into his mouth in turn, working them in and out, then turned the hand palm-up. Breathing hotly against the palm of it, he then laved its surface with broad strokes.
Obi-Wan moaned deep in his throat, the hot, wet, feeling against his hand causing his already rock-hard sex to twitch spasmodically. Over again the pink tongue darted out from between those sensuous lips and lapped at his skin until it was glistening. Qui-Gon then grasped his wrist and moved the slick hand down to Obi-Wan's sex, positioning the fingers so that they were firmly wrapped around the shaft.
Obi-Wan experimentally stroked himself, relishing the new sensation of his hand gliding so smoothly over the sensitive skin. Qui-Gon's hair brushing against his shoulder. Rapid, hot, breath warming his cheek. Just knowing that the man he loved was here with him heightened the experience a thousand-fold.
Building up a slow rhythm of strokes, Obi-Wan was acutely aware of his own breathing, his own skin—little details that he never noticed during his previous secret, stolen, moments conducted quickly and guiltily under the covers. The smoothness of his sex and the small moans trying to slip from his throat were wholly new and mesmerising.
Suddenly, every nerve ending in his entire body seemed to focus in on his right ear where Qui-Gon's mouth had descended, tracing the delicately spiralling cartilage and dipping his tongue into the canal. His heavy breathing echoed deep into Obi-Wan's hearing but did not even begin to penetrate his consciousness, which was shrouded in a pleasure-thick haze. Qui-Gon's sharp front teeth bit firmly into his earlobe, causing him to cry out and tighten his fist around his sex.
"Oh, Master," he moaned, and spellbound Qui-Gon, who was using every calming trick he knew to keep himself from throwing himself on his wanton padawan.
Qui-Gon cupped his student's chin and turned his face for their mouths to meet. He licked Obi-Wan's sultry lips until they parted; their breathing, though erratic, was perfectly in sync.
Obi-Wan's hand kept its steady rhythm as his master parted his lips, slipping his tongue deep into the warm cavern of his mouth. Their tongues met, touched, parried, dancing in perfect mimicry of their training exercises. Both forgot about breathing, the sensation of touch the only thing they needed to stay alive.
His hips rising off the bed in frantic thrusts, Obi-Wan's mind was lost in a swirl of senselessness, his thoughts travelling up the soul-deep river that bonded him to his master. He felt as if every single spark of energy in his and Qui-Gon's bodies had disassembled and rejoined as one single entity. The hot, tickling, twisting lips on his own and his wet palm making a tight channel for his sex were both secondary to the amazing feeling of his heartbeat becoming one with Qui-Gon's.
The sharp edge of teeth bruised Obi-Wan's lips. His short, animalistic cries were muffled as they echoed into Qui-Gon's mouth. His hips had a mind of their own, pushing out, desperately seeking more contact, harder, rougher. He felt his testicles tighten hotly, a raging volcanic wave beginning in his groin and spreading over every inch of him.
With his free hand, Obi-Wan grabbed hold of his master, pressing their mouths closer together, trying to meld their bodies into one, trying to hold on to this marvellous feeling. For an instant, he felt completely one with Qui-Gon, one with the Force.
Qui-Gon, the epitome of self-control compared to his student's wild thrashing, kissed him deeply, the pulled back before Obi-Wan bit down hard as he came. Thick bursts of pearly cream splashed onto Obi-Wan's tautened stomach, his entire body shaking madly in the throes of his pleasure.
He smiled.
Still shaking, his mind working in hyperdrive to process and catalogue all these new sensations, Obi-Wan instinctively shifted and wrapped his limbs tightly around his master's still-clothed body. Qui-Gon held him close, his strong hands rubbing his student's bare back in soothing circles while he manipulated the Force to create a warming blanket of comfort over the young man as he had done a hundred times before.
Obi-Wan melted, suddenly limp at his teacher's touch. It was reminiscent of the healing he had received on numerous occasions when sick or hurt as a child, yet now it took on a most erotic turn. Everything felt different now, his master's mind completely open to him, floating a feeling of deep satisfaction that matched Obi-Wan's own. This changed everything. A stray childhood memory, whether from his or Qui-Gon's mind he was not sure, rose to the surface of their thoughts. Flow with change, a Jedi must.
Qui-Gon's body shook in silent mirth and asked, "Should I be insulted that two minutes after orgasm, lying in my arms, you cannot help but think of Master Yoda. Is there perhaps something you would like to tell me?"
Obi-Wan chuckled, feeling much too drained to think of a suitably witty retort that would not be disrespectful towards the ancient Jedi councillor. Suddenly, a thought arose in his mind. He could not believe that he had been this selfish.
"Master, I apologise. I have taken my pleasure, yet offered you none. How can I..."
Qui-Gon silenced him with a swift mental command, and gazed at him rather sternly. "Obi-Wan, listen to me closely. Where you find pleasure, so do I. You are my padawan; it is my duty to care for you, not the other way around. You must never feel as if you need to service me to win my approval, I..." Qui-Gon's voice almost cracked, and he quickly closed off a channel of their link.
Obi-Wan was confused and hurt at his master's sudden withdrawal, trying not to wince at the almost-physical pain. As he caught the dissolving tendrils of Qui-Gon's thought in his mind, his gut knotted at the twisting, bleeding memories.
Master...please...
It hurts, please stop.
I am sorry, Master. I won't cry next time.
No, stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Please.
The child's voice that Obi-Wan heard was a tiny, frightened echo of his master's strong, deep, even tones that had so often been his anchor.
He tightened his arms around his master and cautiously sent out a small wave of healing energy, healing not of the body, but of the soul. He chose his next words most carefully.
"Yes, I am your padawan, but you are also my master. We care for each other. Together, we are more than we are apart. Perhaps so as the Force has brought us together, it will also continue to guide us through this—if you want to continue this after tomorro—I did not mean to presume—"
Qui-Gon silently sighed. His pupil often took the Jedi traits of modesty and humility to an extreme. The last thing he wished was to instill vanity into the boy, but Obi-Wan needed to have his eyes opened to the truth.
"Padawan, you speak wisely, but you do not see the most simple things. I meant it when I said that you are beautiful. Do you doubt my word?"
Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan shake his head against his chest. He quickly continued, not giving his student the chance to interrupt.
"Tomorrow, when we give ourselves over to each other, all the people of the city will be wondering who that lucky old man is. The one who is bonded with the beautiful youth willing to make such a noble sacrifice for them," he finished softly, gently stroking Obi-Wan's smooth unbearded cheek.
"And if I make a complete ass of myself again, we will have all the more reason to practice," Obi-Wan deadpanned.
Qui-Gon smiled tenderly down at his student and said fondly, "We may practice as long as you wish."
"Then we shall practice forever," declared Obi-Wan firmly, in a perfect imitation of his master's no-nonsense voice.
Qui-Gon said nothing. Instead, he kissed the boy's temple, inhaling his soft, clean scent, and as they drifted off into slumber, allowed himself to believe his student's words.
The moon made its way across the sky as the pair slept deeply on. All traces of apprehension or anxiety disappeared as they lay together, their life Forces twining and mating even as their bodies remained chaste.
Qui-Gon awoke a full hour before dawn and lay listening to his Padawan's gentle breathing, and wondered whether he had made the right choice in tarnishing the boy's innocence the night before. Bringing sex into a teacher/student relationship was a delicate matter. Either the bond would hold true and he could prove himself the kind of man deserving of Obi-Wan's love, or conflict would arise as with Xanatos...or Illyais.
Burying his memories of his failed protege and his first master, Qui-Gon returned his careful consideration back to his slumbering student. The only moments when Obi-Wan had seemed unhappy were when he was in doubt of Qui-Gon's intentions. The look of pure rapture that had shone on his padawan's sweat-soaked face at the moment of climax could not have been faked. Surely the Force willed this union. Both Master and Padawan had stared unblinking into the other's soul and had merged so completely...
"Master?" Obi-Wan's sleepy voice cut through the silence, lifting Qui-Gon out of his reverie.
He chided himself for allowing his mind to wander so far as to miss his student's awakening. This morning, however, Qui-Gon tried to attain some levity before his pupil apologised for startling him.
"Can it be? The notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi awakens before the sunrise. I should contact the council at once."
"How I laugh," replied Obi-Wan, stretching full-bodied, making a cat-like sound in his throat as his muscles flexed.
Qui-Gon stood, stretched briefly, and dressed, appreciating the tempting display twisting on the bed. Obi-Wan looked up and met his gaze, smiling reassuringly, then quickly covered his mouth as he yawned hugely.
Suddenly, the pair both stiffened, sensing a presence outside their door. With feather-soft footsteps, they retrieved their respective lightsabers from under the bed and flanked the door. Qui-Gon reached out and grasped the door handle, flinging it open—
Nothing.
Qui-Gon's gaze dropped down, out of habit of looking down on account of the Genyan's small statures, and consequently spied the small wooden basket sitting on the doorstep. Upon closer inspection, the basket was found to contain the essential oils they were to bathe in before the ceremony, along with a small bottle of a thicker, unscented liquid that he assumed was meant for lubrication.
Qui-Gon let a warm flush wash over him at the thought of entering Obi-Wan's body fully. To be completely sheathed in his heat...
Obi-Wan had begun to unscrew each of the caps from the small bottles, inhaling some fragrances deeply and wrinkling his nose in distaste at others.
Qui-Gon bade Obi-Wan to fill the bathtub in the tiny bathroom, and when he had done so, proceeded to bathe his apprentice as he had only before done when Obi-Wan was ill or injured.
Even the rough scrap of washcloth seemed sensuous to Obi-Wan when wielded by his master. The slip and slide of the sweet oil over every inch of his body quickly aroused him, but his master was resolute that they were to wait for the ceremony.
Achingly hard, Obi-Wan rose from the bath once his master was done cleaning him, and was immediately dismissed into the bedroom while Qui-Gon washed himself.
Lying on the mattress, completely naked in the early-morning humidity, Obi-Wan carefully centred himself, controlling his base physical responses. When Qui-Gon emerged from the bathroom dressed only in a scant towel, however, all of Obi-Wan's concentration was proved to be in vain.
Qui-Gon tactfully did not draw attention to his student's eagerness, but picked up their cloaks from where they were folded on the floor, allowing the towel to slip from his hips and giving Obi-Wan quite an eyeful.
"Since we were given no instructions as to what attire is appropriate, I believe we may at least wear these into the square," Qui-Gon reasoned aloud.
Obi-Wan nodded and slipped on the heavy brown cloak. The heaviness of it against his bare skin was odd and strangely exciting. Still, he did not let any emotion beyond calm acceptance show on his face. While he was undoubtedly aroused by the idea of making love to his master, the thought of humiliating himself yet again in front of all of those people sent surges of nervous energy through him.
He belted his cloak and, standing, headed for the door. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed firmly. Qui-Gon spoke quietly into his ear.
"If at any time, you wish for us to stop, just tell me, and we will. No arguments, agreed?"
Obi-Wan nodded and saw Qui-Gon pocket the little bottle of lubricant before he was drawn into a deep kiss. He was pushed against the door frame as the lines of his lips were carefully traced by the tip of his master's tongue. He returned the kiss, exploring for himself the edge of teeth, the sensitive palate and inner cheeks.
Qui-Gon was the first to pull back, breathing heavily and a little wild-eyed. Grasping his padawan's hand tightly, they entered the courtyard and made their way towards the large stone altar, which was lavishly carved with the images of a naked bodies revelling.
The Genyans kept a respectable distance, staying in their doorways, but the pair could still feel the gazes boring into them. Qui-Gon spied the chancellor and his entourage, including a scowling Diosys, and received a nod signalling for them to proceed. There was no chanting, no song, just the primal heartbeat of drums in the distance and the celebration of the most basic of instincts.
Obi-Wan sat at the edge of the altar, then swung his legs up and lay back. His hands went to his waist where he unfastened his cloak, allowing it to fall open. He then arched his neck back and closed his eyes; the first rays of light glinted off his honey-coloured hair. He would have looked every inch the martyr if it weren't for the teasing smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
Standing over this apparition in the daylight, Qui-Gon likewise disrobed, standing there for a moment and watching Obi-Wan drink in the sight of him like a parched man in the desert. Then he lowered himself over his padawan, the heated feeling of skin on skin causing them both to gasp.
Obi-Wan glanced nervously at the red eyes watching them from the shadows. Qui-Gon reached back and pulled his heavy mass of hair over his shoulders, allowing it to fall like a curtain around his and his student's faces, odd bits of light forming a shadowy cocoon.
"You see, my padawan. It is just you and I," he whispered gently.
"It has always been so, Master," agreed Obi-Wan.
Their lips met.
An age-old cycle began anew.