Adumbration
by AlexPart 3
Qui-Gon strode into his quarters and shed his robe, tossing it carelessly onto a low couch. He dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands.
Damnation, he thought. The meeting with Master Koth had not gone well at all. Master Koth had dismissed Qui-Gon after an hour.
"I sense a loss of focus, Qui-Gon. Perhaps we had better leave off until you can discipline yourself more thoroughly." Qui-Gon chose not to respond to the rebuke, but simply nodded, bowed, and left, making his way quickly to his quarters.
Eeth Koth was absolutely correct in his assertion; it would have been pointless to contradict him. Qui-Gon was and had been distracted for some time...longer than he cared to admit.
However, in the past week, the distractions had become unsettling.
He'd been bombarded with images of Obi-Wan that were nearly impossible to banish. Every meditation technique that he'd tried had been a miserable failure. The images had even permeated his dreams, and upon awaking he'd discovered with half-amused disgust the physical manifestations of his arousal.
Perhaps, thought Qui-Gon, it was time to reevaluate his situation
Nine years. Nine years Obi-Wan had been Qui-Gon's Padawan, and in that time Obi-Wan had grown up...wonderfully. Courageous. Loyal to his master, even when Qui-Gon's restless and sometimes eccentric nature pitted him against the Council. Obi-Wan had become more outspoken in the past few years regarding some of Qui-Gon's more impulsive urges, but that only served to increase Qui-Gon's growing respect for the young man. A pupil who was too willing to blindly follow his master's every whim was a dangerous thing.
And...Obi-Wan had grown in grace. And beauty. Jedi master though he was, Qui-Gon had to turn away occasionally from the sight of his Padawan...the trust and innocence reflected in those fine features was nearly blinding.
Although Qui-Gon treated some aspects of the Jedi Code with an unstudied casualness, he always adhered to the Code in the training of his apprentice. When he first noticed his changing perceptions toward Obi-Wan, who had been seventeen at the time, he'd examined his feelings carefully, initially believing them to be mere physical stimulation. There was no doubt that the awkward youth had become a young man. A decidedly captivating young man.
Though the Jedi Order did not expressly forbid familial or romantic attachments, such were not particularly encouraged, because of the necessity of obedience to the Order. The Order, however, understood that celibacy was not necessarily constructive, and so Qui-Gon, like so many, had had liasons with men and women alike, always schooling himself against making such liasons permanent. As the years passed, he'd come to regard himself as having no need for such attachments; his devotion to the Jedi was absolute.
Qui-Gon had been stunned, therefore, to realize the depth of his feelings for Obi-Wan. It was true that the boy had given him renewed purpose; he'd brooded endlessly since the betrayal of his apprentice Xanatos, and along had come Obi-Wan, with his dauntless courage and boundless optimism, and pulled Qui-Gon, all but unwilling, back from the brink of despairing isolation and loneliness. He'd proved to be all that Qui-Gon could have hoped for, and more, despite his initial misgivings.
Affection and fondness between student and teacher was not unusual, given the close nature of the intense training of a Jedi. And certainly, an extraordinary student inspired extraordinary affection. But there was the Code. And Qui-Gon understood; he understood only too well. A sexual invovement between master and apprentice was forbidden...such might cause instability, a violation of trust and dependence...and there was the issue of coercion.
He understood.
A year passed. Two; three; and Qui-Gon could no longer deny his emotions for Obi-Wan, though he did suppress them rigidly. He had made a grave error once, when Obi-Wan was nineteen. He had probed delicately into Obi-Wan's thoughts while the boy was sleeping, to try to discern if he held any feeling at all for his master. Obi-Wan's shields had risen in alarm, even in his unconscious state, and Qui-Gon had hastily withdrawn, consumed with shame and self-loathing. He'd gone off for two weeks to meditate, with barely a word to Obi-Wan, and returned, resolved not to ever invade his Padawan's privacy again.
Since then, he'd kept his feelings under tight control, and the training bond had suffered; he knew it. Their non-verbal communication had been reduced so that all that remained was a perfunctory mode of communication; it was rather like a malfunctioning comlink. Qui-Gon had tried to compensate by challenging Obi-Wan's ability to perceive the Living Force from within, but there was no substitute for the unique bond that existed between Master and Apprentice. And Obi-Wan had not questioned the wisdom of his master's teaching.
Qui-Gon exhaled deeply. Obi-Wan was blameless. The fault was his own. And in the past week, Qui-Gon had come to realize that he might have done Obi-Wan a grave disservice in shielding himself so heavily. That someday Qui-Gon's foolishness would cause Obi-Wan to meet a crisis for which he was underprepared.
The damage would have to be prepared, carnal imagery notwithstanding. Control yourself, you damned fool, he thought. Transcend your flesh.
But not tonight, he thought, standing and walking to his room. Tonight he would purge himself of the agonizing mental pictures of his padawan.
Tonight he would give himself to abandon.
Elarec followed Qui-Gon into the bedchamber, unabashedly admiring the sight of the tall figure as he trotted to keep up with the man's long stride. Qui-Gon was far and away Elarec's favorite customer. He was beautiful and obviously educated; Elarec had only had a rudimentary education, but he was smart enough to know a man of culture when he saw one. Too discreet to pry into the man's affairs, he was curious about him nonetheless. He rather thought that Qui-Gon was a Senator or a member of a house noble or royal. Qui-Gon wasn't a brute like some of the men Elarec had to deal with; he always treated Elarec tenderly. And he tipped well.
And he fucked Elarec thoroughly enough for him to enjoy it, long past the time when Elarec thought he'd derive any enjoyment at all from his job.
Qui-Gon's only idiosyncracy...if it could be called that...was his request that Elarec call him "Master". Which certainly was no hardship for Elarec. He'd called others the same, less willingly.
Elarec showed Qui-Gon to a deep chair and knelt before him, kohl-rimmed blue-grey eyes meeting Qui-Gon's with a shyness that was almost real. He knew it pleased Qui-Gon, and he dipped his head in humility.
"How may I serve you, Master?"
Qui-Gon lounged in the chair, gazing at the lithe golden-skinned boy before him. He leaned forward, took the boy's chin in his hand, traced a thumb over a slight cleft there. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. Elarec lowered his eyes, but not before seeing a flash of...was it anger?...in Qui-Gon's blue eyes.
"Undress me."
"Yes, Master." Elarec bent to the task, unclasping Qui-Gon's belt and letting it fall. He gently untied the inner strings of Qui-Gon's deep blue tunic and opened it, reverently kissing the broad expanse of chest, allowing his tongue to gently tease one nipple. Elarec's tongue continued up, over Qui-Gon's clavicle, over the black leather thong tied about his throat. He closed his teeth momentarily on the skin of Qui-Gon's neck, smiling at the harsh indrawn breath he heard. He withdrew, bent down again and began to undo the multiple fastenings of Qui-Gon's tall black boots.
Qui-Gon reached down suddenly and grasped Elarec's wrists. Elarec, startled, looked into Qui-Gon's eyes. They blazed, and Elarec gasped as Qui-Gon stood and pulled him up swiftly. Qui-Gon still held Elarec's wrists, pressed up against his chest, and his mouth fastened on the boy's, kissing him deeply and almost painfully.
Elarec was surpised but not displeased by this change in Qui-Gon's behavior. Qui-Gon had always been gentle; indeed, he'd treated Elarec like a precious jewel, always proper and considerate. This, however was entirely new, and Elarec rather enjoyed it. He allowed his mouth to be plundered ruthlessly, pressing against Qui-Gon, feeling the man's erection through the leggings he wore. Qui-Gon kept a grip on Elarec's wrists with one large hand, and the other hand slid down to fondle Elarec's hip...then drifted back to grasp his ass.
Qui-Gon buried his face in the boy's neck and murmured something indistinct. Then again. Elarec strained to hear him. Thought it was a name. He felt an absurd rush of jealousy, and froze for a moment. He cursed himself inwardly, and melted into the kiss again.
Too late. Qui-Gon had pulled away, was looking at him with a curious melange of desire, sadness, and compassion. Nonplussed, Elarec stared back. Qui-Gon gave a little bitter laugh, released the boy, and sat on the bed.
"I'm sorry, Elarec."
"Master?" Elarec was furious with himself, but kept his anger out of his voice.
"I'm afraid I...can't."
The look on the boy's face made Qui-Gon want to burst into mirthless laughter, but he had no desire to hurt him. He'd realized , even before he'd pulled the boy into the rough embrace, that his days of self deception were over. The boy bore a slight resemblance to Obi-Wan, which was why he had initially chosen him, but no amount of pretending could cloud the truth any longer. There was no help for it; he must confess his feelings to Obi-Wan. His conscience could no longer bear the strain.
Qui-Gon slowly refastened his tunic, retrieved his belt, and clasped it around his waist. Turned back to Elarec, who looked stricken. He felt a deep sorrow for the boy. His life could not have been easy, and Qui-Gon had always tried to treat him with the utmost kindness.
"Have I offended you, Master?"
"Elarec...no, never." He laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Master, is there something I can--"
"Qui-Gon." Softly. "Call me Qui-Gon."
"Qui-Gon..."
"You've been wonderful, Elarec. Thank you."
He pressed a huge tip into the boy's hand, left him staring bemusedly at it as he closed the door softly behind him.
Qui-Gon Jinn walked out into the odd purple glow of a Coruscant twilight.
He'd chosen his path.
The Code be damned.
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