The Best Medicine
by Russet McMillanPart 5
Obi-Wan stirred and opened his eyes to find himself curled on his bunk, eyes gummy and mouth sour with sleep. He had fallen asleep without ever undressing or pulling the bedclothes over him, and the chronometer said he'd been that way for nearly twelve hours. Shock made him want to leap up and do all the things he should have been attending to, but sleep still hung over him like a pall.
He scrubbed at his face, and his eyes fell upon the clothes he had set out for his master. Shame filled him -- Qui-Gon had said he would call when he was ready, but Obi-Wan had been too deeply asleep to respond. Yet when he reached out tentatively through their bond, he had an impression of profound relaxation and flickering dreams from his master.
So, exhaustion had overtaken Qui-Gon as well. Normally, they could compensate for the familiar combat reaction, but this time Qui-Gon was wounded and Obi-Wan had been caught off guard. They would both feel better for the rest.
He had enough time to give himself a quick wash from the freighter's limited water stores. While he was waiting for the depilatory cream to take effect, he considered the memory that had come to him in his dream. His romantic relationship with Bant had ended that day; although she had been willing to keep working at it, he would have felt like a liar knowing that he felt more for Qui-Gon than he ever could for anyone else. But at least he and Bant had managed to recover their solid foundation of friendship after a few months of shyness.
He hadn't exactly suppressed or shielded the knowledge of his love for Qui-Gon, but he'd skirted around it for so long that now it tasted fresh and unfamiliar to his mind. Not wrong in any way -- it was a liberation of his senses and emotions even to admit to himself that he loved his master. But he wasn't certain how Qui-Gon would react. He couldn't try to hide his feelings, not after the earlier deception that Qui-Gon had seen through so quickly.
He expected Qui-Gon to refuse his suggestion for healing, but he didn't want his master to think their relationship was in any way unbalanced by love. A tiny thread of fear snaked through his heart that Qui-Gon might decide he would be better off with another master, or at least a period of separation until Obi-Wan got over what might be considered a mere infatuation. In fact, Obi-Wan knew it was something far deeper than that, and he cherished his love even though he knew it might never be consummated.
With a deep breath, the padawan centered himself and released his anxieties into the Force. He would simply have to wait for Qui-Gon's decision and trust in his master's judgment. In the meantime, he realized, he'd better wash the cream off his face before he dissolved all his skin.
Once he was clean, dressed, and relatively alert, Obi-Wan headed to the mess hall for something to eat. He was ravenous -- another common symptom after a fight. He found Captain Ctecteru in the mess with Satiirsti and Eriskiett, and greeted them gladly. While he was filling his bowl, they assured him that all was well with the ship; they would be arriving at Borritt less than a day behind schedule. Eriskiett eagerly detailed the progress of repairs on the damaged sections of the freighter, and even Satiirsti was drawn out a little by an inquiry about her hurt shoulder.
The Bristeen idea of a delicious meal tended towards mixtures of seeds, grains, and small insects. At least the insects weren't still alive, and Obi-Wan had resigned himself days ago to eating at least a few with every meal. This time, he managed to avoid most of them without giving offense when a subtle stirring in the back of his mind warned him that Qui-Gon was awake. He explained that he was being summoned, offered his remaining insects to Satiirsti, and excused himself from the room. After a quick stop at their quarters to collect the clothing he'd picked out, Obi-Wan headed for the medbay.
He found his master sitting up in bed and blinking, features endearingly blurred by sleep. Half his face was still obscured by the dressing, but Obi-Wan noted the infinitesimal tightening of the lips that indicated the nerve-stun had worn off without being renewed. The medical droid was whirring around, trying to persuade Qui-Gon to lie flat. When Obi-Wan approached, the droid appealed to him for support.
"Your friend wishes to leave the infirmary," it droned in the closest thing to distress it was capable of showing. "I have explained that this is far too premature..."
"Sorry, TM40," said Obi-Wan with a half-smile, dragging his eyes away from Qui-Gon. "When a Jedi master wishes to leave, you would be wisest not to try to stop him."
Qui-Gon's eye lit upon the bundle tucked under the padawan's arm. "Are those my clothes?"
Obi-Wan nodded and handed them over. "I'm afraid your cloak was ruined." By blaster scoring, fire, flying shards of metal, and a quantity of blood.
Qui-Gon sighed and sorted out the pile of fabric on his lap. "I'll hardly be needing a cloak for a while -- not with the ship and the orbital habitats all set to Bristeen temperatures."
"So I thought." Obi-Wan began to chivvy the droid away from his master's bed, activating the privacy screen around the bed so that Qui-Gon could dress in peace. "Will you need any assistance?" he asked, trying not to stare as the thermal sheet slipped down far enough to expose a dusting of hair and one brown nipple.
"I don't think --" Qui-Gon stopped and winced as he tried to raise his left arm. His upper arm and the side of his chest had also been bruised and cut by debris from the exposion, although not so badly as his face.
Obi-Wan stepped forward quickly and pulled the left sleeve of the tunic forward to make it easier for Qui-Gon to slip his arm inside. He waited while his master shrugged into the other sleeve, then held the narrow sash behind Qui-Gon's back where it could be easily grasped. For a moment, he had Qui-Gon in the circle of his arms, almost embracing save for the few inches that separated their skin. The flesh on his inner arms prickled with awareness of Qui-Gon's heat, and he was breathing a little rapidly when he stepped back from the bed.
Qui-Gon glanced at him knowingly, and Obi-Wan had to work at suppressing a blush. "I believe I can manage the pants on my own, Padawan."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan waited anyway, one hand hovering beneath his master's elbow, until Qui-Gon had stepped down from the pallet and was standing steadily. Then he walked through the privacy screen and waited, alert for any hint of distress.
When the screen's humming died, he turned to find his master ruefully contemplating the soft slippers he had provided. Obi-Wan's lips quirked; he had bought those slippers for Qui-Gon years before -- the very first present he had ever given his master. The gift seemed genuinely appreciated and was brought along on every mission, but rarely worn. Qui-Gon Jinn might be the epitome of serenity, but he spent very little time actually relaxing.
"I trust my boots were not also destroyed?" Qui-Gon asked. The boots were one of a very few areas where the Jedi master indulged both his sensuality and his vanity.
"No, Master." *Only one of them,* a mischievous impulse prompted him to say, just to see Qui-Gon's expression. But he continued truthfully, "They just need cleaning. But I didn't think you would need them to walk as far as our cabin." By his tone, he let his master know that there would be an argument if Qui-Gon was planning to go anywhere else.
Qui-Gon nodded a reluctant agreement, and Obi-Wan quickly knelt to ease the slippers onto his master's feet before the wounded man could try to bend down. They walked slowly through the corridors of the ship, Qui-Gon moving upright but stiffly. No one approached them. Obi-Wan saw a crewmember -- he thought it was Trecteeks, who had been just behind him at the time of the explosion -- look up at them before hurrying down a side passage. So the ostracism had begun already.
Qui-Gon was white-lipped by the time they reached the cabin, and Obi-Wan noticed a fine tremor as he helped his master down to the bunk with a hand under his elbow.
Obi-Wan channeled as much Force as he could access toward his master for support. "You should lie down and rest, Master," he urged when Qui-Gon remained stubbornly sitting up. "You can get started on that healing trance."
Qui-Gon's eyebrow rose. "I thought you would want to discuss *your* idea for healing me."
Obi-Wan hesitated. "Of course." He folded down his own bunk from the opposite was and sat at attention, though he didn't particularly want to hear Qui-Gon's reasons for rejecting him. He was still too young; an apprentice could not truly give free consent to his master; it would interfere with their current relationship and Obi-Wan's training -- the arguments would go something like that.
"Tell me again your reasons for pressing this matter." Qui-Gon regarded the young man keenly.
Obi-Wan sighed, hardly eager to bare his feelings only to have them brushed aside. But perhaps Qui-Gon sensed the change that had occurred in his heart overnight. He braced himself. "I love you," he began baldly. "I don't wish to see you in pain, or pushed to one side on a mission when you should be in charge. I don't want you forced to remain idle for months of recuperation. And also, I find you very desirable sexually." He pressed his lips tightly closed and waited.
Qui-Gon was silent for a long time. "You do realize that we can't make any commitments to each other, don't you, Obi-Wan? It would be wrong while you are still my padawan and bound to obey me in other areas."
"Of course. But to be with you, even one time only, I think, would be...delightful." Obi-Wan shrugged and forced a smile to his face. "I understand that you see it differently."
"On the contrary, I agree with you."
Obi-Wan blinked.
"I think we should give it a try."
"*What*?" The apprentice managed weakly.
"Unless you've changed your mind, that is. Have you?"
"Have I -- no!" Obi-Wan gathered enough of his wits to recognize the gleam of amusement in his master's eye. "But I thought that you... that is, you wouldn't want...you would think..." He trailed off helplessly.
"I've considered your reasons, and I think they make a certain sense."
"Which reasons?"
Qui-Gon tilted his head slightly. "Well, there is the mission. As you know, I dislike going into any situation without being prepared for anything that might happen. Our mission is not simply what will occur once we reach Bristeetst -- there is also the voyage itself to be considered."
Obi-Wan nodded. "The previous ice freighters were attacked more than once on the trip, weren't they?"
"One of them encountered three separate groups of ice pirates. If we should see more combat on this journey, I will be little help so long as I can barely stand and walk."
Obi-Wan considered this. He knew his master hated to watch him go into battle alone. If he had thought of it, that would have been a far more telling argument than the fact that Qui-Gon would be held back from participating in the Bristeen inaugural ceremonies. "Is that your only reason?" he asked.
"No."
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed as Qui-Gon offered nothing else. "May I know what other reasons you have?"
"No." Firm, but not ungentle.
"That...doesn't seem quite fair." Obi-Wan thought of the difficulty with which he had bared his own soul.
Qui-Gon sighed. "This is precisely why a sexual relationship is discouraged between master and apprentice, Obi-Wan. I am your teacher and your guide -- not your peer. I am under no obligation to tell you my reasons for anything I choose to do or not to do. In this particular case, I don't believe it would serve you to know what other reasons I have. Will you refuse me because I cannot be more open?"
Refuse? "Of course not."
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth curved upward. "Then I believe you have some preparations to make."
Obi-Wan's heart tried to go into hyperdrive as he realized that this was really going to happen. He was going to make love to Qui-Gon! He would make sure everything was perfect --
He froze, half standing. "Are you...will you be up to this?"
Qui-Gon's face took on half of his driest expression. "Leave that to me."
Obi-Wan swallowed, dry-mouthed. "We, erm, might have to keep going for several hours. For the healing to be complete."
"Fortunately, my lover is young and virile and possesses great stamina."
Obi-Wan had to tell his heart firmly to slow down, or else Qui-Gon might have heard it from across the small space. Just hearing the word `lover' on Qui-Gon's lips was doing the strangest things to his body. Also some not-so-strange things, but it wasn't time for that yet. Struggling to control his involuntary reactions, Obi-Wan managed, "Right. Well. I'd better go make preparations, hadn't I?" He left the small room reluctantly, throwing a quick look over his shoulder to see Qui-Gon still sitting on the bunk.
He went first to the infirmary. There would surely be something there which they could use for lubrication. He managed to get his body under control once he was away from Qui-Gon's intoxicating presence, but his mind was whirling with plans. They would need a position where he could maintain a certain level of arousal for a long time. Some of his experiments with Bruck came to mind. There had been that time they went to the Pulse Lifter club on Coruscant.... Yes, that would do nicely. And the captain *had* offered to do anything she could to help Qui-Gon's recovery.
After his raid on the medical stores, Obi-Wan headed for the bridge.
His preparations complete, Obi-Wan stepped into the cabin and froze, staring at the man sitting on the bunk. Qui-Gon was singularly unhelpful, merely making a sweeping gesture with one hand to indicate this was the padawan's show to direct. There was a gleam of amusement in that blue eye, and Obi-Wan quailed for a moment at the thought that his master might be laughing at him inwardly.
He steadied himself with a reminder that Qui-Gon had never once mocked him, even at times when he must have looked far more foolish than today. There was the first time they had ever sparred together with lightsabers, when Obi-Wan -- a good fighter for his age, but over-anxious to impress -- had tripped and hit himself in the nose with his own saber, fortunately only at half power. The boy had been mortified, but Qui-Gon had simply attended to the burn and suggested adding a series of balance exercises to his warm-ups.
Remembering the incident and his thirteen-year-old chagrin, Obi-Wan had to smile in appreciation of his master's restraint. His heart warmed as Qui-Gon returned the smile openly. Perhaps he had been misreading his master's half-covered expression, and the light in Qui-Gon's eye was from affection rather than amusement.
Affection was good, even if Obi-Wan had hoped for more. He wondered a bit about the `other reasons' Qui-Gon had for agreeing to this liaison, but he knew better than to press the question, even in his own mind.
"Well," Obi-Wan began, and fell silent. But he was a little easier in his own mind, and he felt confident that the awkwardness would fade. He unhooked the lightsaber from his belt and opened the closet to tuck it safely in his pack.
"Everything ready?" Qui-Gon inquired.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I spoke to the captain, and made some arrangements with her. And I got this -- thought it might come in useful." He tossed a fat tube onto Qui-Gon's lap before turning to fold his own bunk out of the way.
Qui-Gon studied the medical lubricant. "I expect it will."
"So...perhaps we should get started." Obi-Wan was pleased to note that his voice sounded quite steady.
Qui-Gon nodded gravely, setting the lubricant beside him. "Where do you wish to begin?"
"I suppose the usual place to begin would be removing our clothes." Obi-Wan went to work on his belt, knowing that as soon as his outer tunic came loose, his excitement would be obvious.
Qui-Gon hesitated. "You are in charge here, Obi-Wan. I won't reject anything you wish to do. But I'd prefer to start with an earlier step than undressing, if you don't mind."
Obi-Wan paused, belt in hand, then ducked to stow it in the closet. "What step?"
Qui-Gon patted the bunk next to him, and Obi-Wan sat obligingly, near enough to feel his master's heat. The older man turned, his hand coming up to caress Obi-Wan's cheek. "Every good seduction," Qui-Gon murmured, "should start with a kiss."
Obi-Wan had never been able to share kisses with Bant, since her mouth wasn't constructed for it. But he'd received a thorough grounding in the technique from Riennan, with occasional refreshers from Bruck. He found kissing enjoyable, if not so essential to pleasure as Qui-Gon seemed to think. So he tipped his chin up willingly...
And discovered that kissing was very different indeed when he was in love with the person he was kissing.
There was nothing particularly special about the physical meeting of their lips; it was actually rather awkward, due to the injuries that immobilized half of Qui-Gon's face and mouth. The difference was within Obi-Wan, as a slow fire ignited under his breastbone and began to spread inexorably throughout his body -- notably to points south.
With a muffled sound of surprise, Obi-Wan lifted his arms to clasp his master and draw him closer, remembering at the last moment to hold lightly in deference to Qui-Gon's injuries. Their lips and tongues moved into a wonderful -- if somewhat lopsided -- dance of advance and retreat, licking and stroking and melding, while the heat built between their bodies until Obi-Wan felt as if he might burst into flame.
When, inevitably, a miscalculated move caused Qui-Gon to draw back with a soft grunt of discomfort, Obi-Wan was left staring up at his master with eyes that he knew must be shining as though he'd never been kissed before in his life. And truly, he felt as if he hadn't. If everything else about making love with Qui-Gon turned out to be as new and exciting as kissing, Obi-Wan wasn't sure he would survive the experience.
On the other hand, they should have no trouble generating all the Force they needed. Obi-Wan's body was singing with it already, and he could feel the echos sounding through his master as well.
"I was right," he said, his voice emerging high and breathless.
Qui-Gon nodded, one finger tracing a line down the younger man's cheek. "It does work in hyperspace."
"No. I mean --" Obi-Wan leaned in to lick at the unhurt corner of his master's mouth. "Delightful."
It was too much to hope that a Jedi master would actually blush, but the exposed half of Qui-Gon's face shone with startled pleasure.
"What was that the captain was announcing over the intercom?" Qui-Gon asked, somewhat muffled as his mouth was attacked again.
"Hmmm? Oh." Obi-Wan sat back a little. He vaguely remembered a whistling voice while he had been lost in the kiss, but he didn't need to hear it to know what had been said. "I asked her to turn off the gravity. There are some preparations to make before the ship is ready, but it should go off in half an hour or so." He stroked his master's long neck with the back of one finger, recalling his childhood fantasies. Well, he no longer had to wonder, he thought happily, nuzzling in to taste Qui-Gon's skin.
"Turn...off...the gravity?" Qui-Gon gasped.
"Mm-hmmm. It will be easier for what I had planned." Obi-Wan pulled back again to frown at his master. "Unless it makes you ill?" Qui-Gon had never shown any sign of queasiness when they did low-gravity exercises, but then, he was also very skilled at hiding any discomfort.
"No, not ill, but...Obi-Wan, have you ever tried sex in zero gravity? It isn't as simple as it sounds."
"Simple enough for Force-users. You just have to know a few tricks." Obi-Wan licked his lips and leaned closer again.
"But *when* did you -- ahhh." Qui-Gon tilted his head to give the younger man better access to his earlobe.
Smiling at the response and giving the ear a thorough suckling before he licked his way down toward Qui-Gon's pulse, Obi-Wan delayed a few minutes before he explained. "It wasn't true microgravity, but Br-- I've been to one of those repulsor-lift clubs. You know the sort, where they apply grav-canceling to the entire club?"
"Mmmm," Qui-Gon replied, more or less in agreement.
Obi-Wan sat up to look his master in the eye. "This is all right with you, then?"
Qui-Gon blinked dazedly. "Of course, if it's necessary for your plan. I told you, you're in charge here, Obi-Wan."
"Oh, good. Does that mean we can get to the undressing part now?" Obi-Wan pulled the neck of his master's tunic wide so that he could lap at the hollow between the collarbones.
Undressing was just as awkward as it had been with any of Obi-Wan's partners, yet somehow with Qui-Gon it was sweeter. They stole kisses between the removal of each item, and eventually fell into a pattern where Qui-Gon loosened the clothing and Obi-Wan did the actual disrobing for both of them. Since Qui-Gon was wearing less, he was the first to become completely naked, his leggings coming off while Obi-Wan was only bare from the waist up.
"Oh," the padawan breathed, entranced. Some part of him had always envisioned Qui-Gon as being huge, even monstrous. He knew his master appeared very generously endowed when flaccid, but apparently Qui-Gon was one of those men who grew only a little as he became erect. For he was certainly erect now, his phallus warmly flushed with blood -- but perfectly normal in girth and only a little longer than average. It would make Obi-Wan's job much easier for the next few hours, but the elegant proportions were also charming to the eye.
Obi-Wan had already knelt on the deck in order to pull off Qui-Gon's slippers and leggings. Now, unselfconsciously, he bent his head to touch and smell and rub his cheek across Qui-Gon's erection. He had just taken his first taste of the broad smooth head and the bitter droplet seeping forth, and he was about to draw the whole thing in and start suckling when a sharp tug on his braid made him look up.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon husked, "if the gravity is about to go off, you'd better get the rest of your clothes off and get everything stowed away. Especially your boots -- we don't want them floating around the room while we're busy."
"Oh..." Obi-Wan's eyes fell back to the object of his recent attentions, glistening with moisture. "Of course." He started on the buckles of his boots, uncommonly fumble-fingered. His feet seemed to have grown since he put the boots on. When he got them off at last, he turned to put them and the rest of their abandoned clothes in the closet, safely tucked under the tie-downs. He glanced quickly around the room, but he and his master had both been too well drilled in spacegoing procedures to leave any loose toiletries about.
"Your leggings," Qui-Gon pointed out softly, and Obi-Wan flushed, pulled off the last of his clothes, stuffed them into the bottom of the closet, and closed the door.
He turned to find Qui-Gon's eye fixed firmly on his backside as he straightened, and an extra pulse of blood thudded through his erection at the intensity of that gaze. He stood still for several moments, letting Qui-Gon look his fill although there was nothing the master hadn't seen many times before. Everything was very different in this context, Obi-Wan acknowledged as his master's gaze rose to meet his. Certainly each part of Qui-Gon's body seemed more beautiful than ever before.
"Will you keep the dressing on?" he asked, gesturing at the cover on the broken side of Qui-Gon's face.
"I might as well. It won't be in the way, will it?"
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Then it will come off soon enough when we are done."
Obi-Wan smiled at the confidence in his master's voice. He hoped he could live up to those expectations.
"Come here, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon raised a hand to stroke the length of the padawan's flank from ribs to thigh, then inward and upward to cup the soft sac in his hand.
Obi-Wan's breath caught as his master bent forward to taste. Without conscious thought, his head tilted back, his eyes fluttered closed, and his hands threaded into Qui-Gon's thick hair. The older man's cracked jaw wouldn't part wide enough to take Obi-Wan in, but he offered expert strokes from his tongue and fingers.
Obi-Wan felt his excitement peaking far too soon, as much from the realization that this was *Qui-Gon* bowing before him as from the actual physical sensations. "Stop," he gasped, just in time, and Qui-Gon drew back to give him an inquiring look.
"Need to...go slow," Obi-Wan managed, acutely conscious of the fingers still wrapped around his erection. "Keep going for hours, remember?"
"Ah, yes. I wouldn't want to interfere with your plan," Qui-Gon returned drily. But he undermined this show of composure by licking quickly at his lips for one last taste.
Obi-Wan sank to the bunk beside his master and fumbled for the tube of lubricant. He looked at it for a moment, considering the difficulties of reaching inside his own body. "Would you, er, prepare me?" he asked, holding the tube out.
"With pleasure." Qui-Gon placed a hand on the younger man's hip and pulled gently until Obi-Wan turned away, crouching on the narrow bunk on hands and knees.
A brush of lips against his upraised rear and a gentle hand stroking his tender sac made the padawan lift his hips higher. Then a slick finger was gliding across his opening, over and around the puckered lips until he pushed outward reflexively, and the finger slipped inside. Obi-Wan's breath shuddered in and out as the finger explored and retreated, returning with one of its fellows and more slick fluid. He gasped and rocked back against the intruders when they sought deeper and pressed upon the core of his pleasure.
Then the fingers were gone and a larger, warmer invader took their place. Obi-Wan cried out and surged back onto his master's shaft. Qui-Gon released a lush groan as his hips thrust forward, joining the two of them together irrevocably. Obi-Wan felt his master's weight draped over his back, easily borne in the ship's light gravity yet still warmly overwhelming. Unbalanced by his injuries, supporting himself with one hand, Qui-Gon nevertheless surged into a powerful rhythm, pumping into the younger man's body.
"Wait!" Obi-Wan gasped belatedly. Then a change in angle brought Qui-Gon's shaft into perfect alignment, and the padawan gave in with a groan. He tried simultaneously to raise his hips to his master's thrusts and keep his back arched as an extra support.
Qui-Gon froze. "Wait?" he ground out.
"No...I was mistaken. Go on." Obi-Wan pushed back, wanting to feel that power lance through him once more.
"Am I ruining your plans?" Qui-Gon's voice was breathless, but well under control.
"We can work around it. I'm flexible." Obi-Wan wriggled again. The gravity wasn't even off yet; he wanted to enjoy this abandon while they still had a bed to work with.
"So I noticed," Qui-Gon chuckled, and started moving, more slowly this time. He levered himself up a little, one hand braced on the bed squarely beneath Obi-Wan's chest. His weaker left hand starfished down the young man's belly to the erection which leaped eagerly into his warm palm.
Obi-Wan moaned and let his shoulders collapse onto the bunk. He rocked eagerly, back upon Qui-Gon's erection and forward into Qui-Gon's grasp. He could not have said what made this joining so much more powerful than any of his previous experiences, unless it was the knowledge that this was his beloved master pressing against the back of his thighs, piercing into his bowels, enfolding him in the clasp of that enormous, beautiful hand. The Force they drew up sparked palpably along the bond between them, enhancing the pleasure in a way Obi-Wan had never known before.
Dimly, Obi-Wan realized he was sobbing with ecstasy as he writhed back and forth between the two delicious stimuli. Qui-Gon was not silent either, his first muted grunts turning to abandoned moans as the tension built between them. They found their perfect angle and moved in unison, ratcheting up the pace and the pleasure until Qui-Gon gave a hoarse shout of completion. Obi-Wan felt himself tumble over a peak and then he was falling, falling up into his master's embrace...
Dimly he realized that the gravity had gone off at last, and he had just enough sense to press his own hand over Qui-Gon's upon his erection as he spilled forth all his joy and love.
Clearly Qui-Gon had also had some opportunity to learn the tricks of making love in zero gravity, for he twined his legs around Obi-Wan's and pulled the younger man close as they panted for breath. They were both damp with sweat in the warm atmosphere of the ship, both drenched in pleasure and already halfway to exhaustion. The Force pulsed hugely in both of them, but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Obi-Wan leaned back into his master's arms and gamely tried to catch his breath, knowing that his work had barely begun.
Since the freighter was so large, their cabin was generously sized compared to typical shipboard accommodations. The high ceiling meant that they had a reasonable amount of space available when the gravity was off. Obi-Wan reached out with just a thread of Force and adjusted their position to make sure they wouldn't bounce off any walls. He'd have to remember to check their position occasionally while they worked.
He tilted his head back against Qui-Gon's shoulder and lifted their joined hands from his wet cock. Luxuriously, Obi-Wan licked the bitter fluid from his master's fingers -- after all, they wouldn't want it floating in little droplets around the room. He felt Qui-Gon shudder against him, and the shaft still trapped inside him stopped softening.
With a sweet sigh, he released his master's hand. "Do you think that's enough to start with?" he asked, his voice gone low and languid.
"Enough?" Qui-Gon returned vaguely.
"Enough Force."
"Oh." Qui-Gon's arms tightened around the padawan, and he drew the gathered Force to him. "It's a good start. I can begin the healing, but I don't know how long it will take."
"Don't worry. I have an idea about that." Obi-Wan stretched his legs carefully into the air and looked about for the only item he had left loose in the room. The lubricant was floating near the corner of the ceiling and two walls, and he brought it to him with an easy call.
Qui-Gon began to pull back, and Obi-Wan reflexively spread his legs further apart, trapping his master's legs which were wrapped around him. "No!" he gasped. "Stay in me."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Obi-Wan, I don't know if I'll be good for much more. Especially if I'm concentrating on healing."
"You don't have to come again. Just stay in me, and stay hard. You can do that." Obi-Wan sent a shiver of Force to his master's cock, and felt the thrill race through his own body where they were joined. Qui-Gon began to harden again.
"I'm going to move away a bit, but not too much, all right?" Obi-Wan pressed his elbows back against his master's chest, making a space between their bodies and letting the stiff shaft recede until only the head was still within him, held tight by deliberate clenching of his muscles.
"Now I need you to spread your legs a little further." As the powerful thighs loosened their grasp, Obi-Wan began to tilt himself downward. His own legs went back between Qui-Gon's, and his torso moved down until he was at right angles to his master's body, still joined together.
"Obi-Wan, what are you doing?" Qui-Gon protested in bewilderment.
"It's a position that will let me maintain a certain level of tension. For hours, if need be. It might be a little uncomfortable until you get used to it. Let me know if it actually hurts, though." Obi-Wan kept rotating his body slowly until Qui-Gon's legs came behind the younger man's back. Now the master's shaft was pointing almost directly down away from his body, and Obi-Wan could feel the strain thrumming through Qui-Gon's muscles. There was no actual complaint, though, so he continued.
His own heels were somewhere around Qui-Gon's shoulder blades now, and they hung in the air with their buttocks pressed together. Slathering a generous measure of lubricant onto his fingers, Obi-Wan reached between his legs and began to tease at Qui-Gon's opening.
"Obi-Wan!" The master spasmed, almost jerking himself free.
"It's all right, this will work," he soothed. "We've already done the hard part. Can you relax a little?" He felt the ring of muscle open to admit his fingers, and reached in to slick the passage thoroughly. At the length of his reach, he found Qui-Gon's sweet spot and felt the shaft still trapped inside him twitch with pleasure. He continued until his master was loose and open.
"Here we go, then." Coating his own erection, Obi-Wan pulled it downward, away from his belly where it wanted to nestle and down toward the dark hole that awaited. This was the uncomfortable part, for him, but he knew it would work, so he breathed carefully and released his tensions until his shaft was in position.
He had to lock his heels around Qui-Gon's ribs and pull a little with his legs and with the Force to bring them closer together. It was hard to imagine how anyone could accomplish this without the Force, although Obi-Wan knew he and Bruck weren't the first who had ever tried it. But with some judicious pulling and pushing, he got the head of his erection past the puckered ring and felt himself hotly clasped by Qui-Gon's body.
"Oh!" he gasped shakily at the exquisite sensations as he worked them closer together, feeling his master's shaft sink deeper into him at the same time. He could only move a few more centimeters until they were joined as closely as possible, their testicles nestled snugly side by side. "All right?" he managed to ask, his voice high and trembling.
"I never knew this was possible," Qui-Gon murmured.
"It's...a good position for very slow lovemaking," Obi-Wan explained. "Useful in zero gravity because it doesn't get messy when someone comes. Not so good for wild motions or stimulating the prostate." Or gazing into each other's eyes, which he was sorry to miss. "But this..." With a gentle undulation, he lifted their bodies apart a few centimeters and then back together. "I can keep this up for a long time."
After another rippling move, he was no longer quite so sure, though; this was more exciting than he had remembered. Qui-Gon's longer shaft allowed for some extra penetration, and the sensation of his own flesh buried inside his master was exquisite, even if he could only get halfway in. Then there was the way the erotic sensations echoed back and forth along their bond; he hadn't shared that pleasure with Bruck. But he did remember the special way the Force resonated in their flesh.
"This is also good for...setting up a sort of...feedback loop." Technically, Obi-Wan knew, there was no reason why penetration should have any effect on who donated energy to whom. But somehow the two became equated in the mind, and the mind affected the Force. He could almost feel the power flowing into him at the spot where Qui-Gon's flesh pierced him. He let it build in his own body along with his arousal, then fed it back through their other joining. It was perfect.
Too perfect. Obi-Wan gave up on speech and instead merely reached out to capture his master's feet, tucking the long shins under his arms and using them for more leverage. He moved faster, pulling and pushing, hearing his own soft cries building to a crescendo. But it was too soon.
He could feel Qui-Gon catching the energy he passed and using it, subtle motions of the Force threading through his master's injured body. Qui-Gon was slipping off into a deep working trance while Obi-Wan's flesh sang with purest pleasure, but it was going to take hours. Obi-Wan couldn't afford to come again so soon, yet the arousal and the Force were already building within him.
He made himself stop and go still, clamping down on the pressure point at the base of his cock like a ring of Force inhibiting his climax. When the critical moment had receded a little, he began to move again, very slowly.
It was like a dance, a kata requiring the utmost balance and care. He would concentrate on the delightful sensations until his arousal built, then feed the energy to his master and force himself to back off a little. Then coax it up again to a near-frenzy, then slow down once more. He lost track of how many times he had passed through this maddening cycle before he could resist no longer. His unconscious whimpers building to a long cry, Obi-Wan poured himself into his master's body.
Even then, he didn't release control entirely. He clamped down once more with the Force before he had quite finished spurting. It made him groan in delicious agony, but he knew he would be able to keep going longer if he didn't spend himself all at once. He rested briefly, feeling the Force he had generated flowing into his master's body. Then he began the whole cycle over again.
It went on for a long time. Obi-Wan's inner chronometer failed him as he lost the ability to think about anything but sensation and Force. His world narrowed to Qui-Gon's ankles against his ribs, Qui-Gon's thighs behind his hips, Qui-Gon's shaft within him and Qui-Gon's heat around his own erection. When he needed to build his excitement he let himself think about the perfect intimacy of penetrating and being penetrated. When it was time to cool off he opened his eyes and adjusted their positions between the walls of the room.
They started to dry off at one point, the contact between them growing sticky and raw. He had to hunt around for the lubricant, which had gotten wedged underneath Qui-Gon's bunk. Smearing the stuff on himself and Qui-Gon was a new sensation which almost destroyed his equilibrium, as he felt his master's flesh warm and pulsing between his fingers and thought of that pulse disappearing into his own body. When he was done, he carefully sent the tube away to fit snugly into a corner of his own folded bunk, in case he needed to find it again -- though in truth, he didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep this up.
He came again and again, but never allowed himself true completion. His skin was slick with sweat, but he burned in the warm air. Qui-Gon came with him at least one time, perhaps more, and he nearly lost control as he felt the warmth gushing up inside him.
He was almost gone, lost in a haze of sensation, when he felt a gentle tug at his mind. His eyes flew open. "Master?"
"One more, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice was hoarse with weariness. "The last time. Give me everything you have."
Obi-Wan realized his master was finished; he had done everything possible with their limited time and energy. They were both exhausted to the point of collapse, and Qui-Gon's erection was fading despite the Force that still tingled between them.
With a grunt, Obi-Wan pulled his body free of Qui-Gon's shaft and tilted himself up his master's back. He was still buried inside the other man, still hard himself although he hardly knew how it was possible. He brought their bodies into line again, Qui-Gon's broad back pressed against his chest. He dipped his head to lick at one glistening shoulder, savoring his master's salt. Yes, he could do this. One last time, he could possess his master and fill him with love and lust and Force.
Slowly at first, gripping Qui-Gon's hips for the leverage he needed in lieu of gravity to push against, Obi-Wan began to thrust. At last he could sink to his full length inside Qui-Gon's heated passage, and it was glorious. He pressed his cheek between his master's shoulder blades, sobbing as he pumped in and out.
All of it -- every scrap of energy within him -- he gave to his lover. And this time he could feel it blazing through Qui-Gon as pure healing energy, cementing whatever changes Qui-Gon had made so carefully and painstakingly over the last hours. Obi-Wan moved faster, pouring himself into the task both for the sake of sensation and healing.
This would be the last time, he knew; not only the last time today, but most likely the last time he would ever be joined with his master like this. Qui-Gon was far too proper to consider a sexual relationship with his padawan without a very good reason. And no situation quite like this one was ever likely to come up again. So Obi-Wan was determined to wring every drop of pleasure out of this last encounter, and store it all safely in his memory to be taken out and considered at lonely future moments.
Incredibly, he felt Qui-Gon's arousal begin to revive as he moved. The older man had seemed spent earlier, but his cock began to awaken once more as Obi-Wan reached around to stroke it. A gentle redirecting of Force made Qui-Gon groan and arch into his grasp.
"Obi-Wan," he protested.
"You don't need to concentrate any more, Master. Let it go. Let it all go." Obi-Wan moved his hips faster, twining his ankles with Qui-Gon's and embracing the other man tightly to keep their bodies from flying apart with the force of their motions. Their skin made moist smacking sounds each time they came together.
"Obi-Wan." This time the tone was faintly pleading. "Link with me."
The younger man gasped as he felt his master reaching out along their bond. Qui-Gon was asking for more than a gentle Force exchange, more than shared physical sensations -- he was suggesting a full mind-link during sex. It was an intimacy usually reserved only for committed couples, who had already formed a love bond.
Obi-Wan's mind raced with questions he wanted to ask about what this meant. But there was no time, even if his pleasure-drenched brain could have formulated the words. And surely the answers would be there in Qui-Gon's mind if he made the link. So he opened his mind and reached back, meeting and matching Qui-Gon's mental clasp.
His master's thoughts and feelings exploded through Obi-Wan's mind: the deep convictions, the caring and generosity which brightened the man's unshakable serenity. He was astonished by how much of that warmth was directed at *him* -- and also by the fact that Qui-Gon seemed to think the warmth would be gone entirely if Obi-Wan weren't in his life.
But there was no chance for Obi-Wan to think about those amazing revelations when he was also sharing his master's physical sensations. Qui-Gon's body was arching into the pounding Obi-Wan was giving him, and the Force was roaring through him like a flood, energizing every cell with vitality and well-being. Obi-Wan cried out at the joint senses as he snapped his hips harder, driving into his master with everything he had. They were one being moving in two bodies, aflame with lust and Force and health and joy and love...
Yes, there was love in there, and it wasn't entirely coming from him. Obi-Wan had one instant to recognize it before his body convulsed in spasms of ecstasy, an overload of every sense that tore through him and shattered him into tiny pieces. It was like soaring into the heart of a star, a brightness that seared him and consumed him and left him to fall alone into darkness.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6