Adumbration
by AlexPart 6
Qui-Gon was in his bedroom, meditating, when he heard Obi-Wan's quick, light footsteps. He took several deep, calming breaths.
Time to leap from the cliff.
He walked into the common room, seeing Obi-Wan hastily picking up his meditation beads from the floor. The young man turned, smiling at him, then straightened and gave him a short bow.
"Good evening, Master."
"Obi-Wan." A nod. "How do you feel?"
"Very well, Master. I did go to the healing dome as you suggested. I assure you, I am fully recovered." Quick grin. "I'm sorry to have left you so abruptly."
"Not at all, Padawan. Your health is of the utmost importance." Idiot, he thought. Just say it. His hands were folded within his robe and he dug his nails into his flesh. He felt queasy. I can't do this, he thought. His mouth opened to say something, some banal excuse.
"Padawan."
"Yes, Master?" Did the boy aways have to look at him that way, he wondered. Trustingly, with a respect bordering on veneration...no, not a boy, he corrected himself. A man, in the full flower of youth and beauty, a man grown...nearly a Knight.
Now. No turning back.
"Padawan, I must speak with you."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan nodded deferentially, not moving.
Qui-Gon gestured to the couch. "Perhaps you'd better sit down, Obi-Wan."
"Oh. I thought you'd prefer to talk in your room." He looked abashed, and then added hurriedly, "Unless you'd rather not, Master."
"By all means,"Qui-Gon said, smiling. As he waved his apprentice into his room, he closed his eyes briefly. At least I didn't suggest it myself, he thought. Force help us both.
Qui-Gon sat on his sleep-couch, and Obi-Wan knelt on the floor, settling back on his heels, hands resting on his thighs.
"No, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, distressed. "Sit here, beside me." He'd be damned if he was going to bare his soul while his padawan knelt at his feet. Obediently Obi-Wan unfolded himself gracefully and sat on the couch.
"Padawan," he began carefully, "This isn't going to be easy for me, and I beg your patience."
"Of course, Master." Again that sweet smile.
"You have been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan...no, forgive me, padawan, I give you faint praise indeed. You have been a most exemplary pupil. I could not have chosen a better one. I truly believe that the Force brought us together, despite my resistance to its will, damn stubborn fool that I am."
"Master--" Qui-Gon held a hand up.
"Please, Padawan. Let me finish before my courage fails me."
Obi-Wan's brow knit at that, but he said nothing.
"You have been a constant source of joy to me, Obi-Wan. You have a fine mind, and a dedication to the Order that others would do well to follow. Your grasp of the Unifying Force is remarkable, and in time I know you will master the Living Force as well. You will be a great Jedi."
"If I am, Master, it is entirely due to your guidance." Obi-Wan said softly.
"Obi-Wan, I wish it were so. I have failed you."
"Master?" Questioning look.
"I have neglected our training bond."
Obi-Wan silently lowered his head.
Qui-Gon felt a rush of shame. Obi-Wan had noticed, of course he had. And had not criticized his master for it. Why should he? It was the master's responsibility to maintain the bond, was it not, as one whose Force abilities were superior to a young padawan's.
"Obi-Wan...I am so sorry."
Obi-Wan looked up, and Qui-Gon saw the faint gleam of unshed tears in the young man's eyes. I have hurt him, he thought.
"Master..." Whispered. "I had thought that you were displeased with me...that I was too dependent on the bond..."
Qui-Gon's heart clenched painfully. He reached out, grasped Obi-Wan by the shoulders. "No, Padawan. The fault is mine...entirely. I must tell you why."
Obi-Wan nodded mutely, not looking at him.
"Obi-Wan...over the past few years you have come to mean so much more than a pupil to me."
Obi-Wan looked at him, the expression on his face unreadable.
"I love you, Obi-Wan. Not simply as my Padawan, not just as a pupil. As a man."
There. He'd said it. Gracelessly, but eloquence was superfluous. Plain truth was better. He watched Obi-Wan's face intently.
"You love me," breathed Obi-Wan.
"Yes, my Padawan. In my desire to shield my emotions from you, I'm afraid I damaged our bond, and for that I am heartily sorry. You should have been able to rely on the bond until you are nearly ready to assume the full responsibilities of Knighthood. My actions have done you no good, and I only hope that we can mend the rift before permanent damage is done."
"Master--" Obi-Wan said hesitantly.
"Wait, Obi-Wan, there is more," Qui-Gon said urgently. "I cannot possibly expect you to share these feelings. I confess that I did hope that you would, but the last thing that I want is for you to feel that you must...oblige me...out of a sense of duty." He smiled ruefully. "There are those who say that I ignore the Code when it suits me. Simply revealing my feelings is a serious breach of the Code. To try to coerce you into a physical relationship would surely end my days as a Jedi, and deservedly so."
Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed at Qui-Gon.
"I hope I have not placed an unjust burden on your shoulders with my confession, Padawan. Please know that such was not my intention. I want you to know that I will always regard you with the highest esteem and affection, whatever you think of me--"
Obi-Wan leaned forward, captured Qui-Gon's mouth in a kiss, silencing him.
In a dark damp prison, below the Coruscant sublevels, a young Jedi sits helplessly bound to a chair. He is unable to move or speak, but his eyes convey all the anguish that the rest of his body cannot as he watches the screen in front of him.
Lightly, lips brushing over his.
A gentle pressure, increasing fractionally; now firm, now almost painful.
So sweet.
Qui-Gon kept his hands in his lap.
Intensifying and waning, and Qui-Gon finally pulled away, his heart pounding.
"Obi-Wan..."
"Master...how could you possibly think that I'd reject you?" Sea-colored eyes dancing, his expression very nearly gleeful.
"Padawan...are you certain...?"
"Master." Scolding, teasing tone, and Obi-Wan drew him into another kiss, draping his arms sinuously around Qui-Gon's neck. He opened his mouth, teeth gently latching onto Qui-Gon's bottom lip, worrying it gently. Qui-Gon yielded, and their tongues met, twining around each other, tasting each other, first hesitantly, then greedily, drinking in warm moisture. Qui-Gon's hands rose, sought out the perfection that was his Obi-Wan...now, at last, his, his own, nothing to keep them apart, and oh, Force, so beautiful...
Obi-Wan pulled back finally. A long look and he unclasped his belt, letting it fall, his eyes never leaving Qui-Gon's. Pulled at his tunic, and Qui-Gon stood, and began---were his hands shaking?--to divest himself of his clothing, watching Obi-Wan disrobe.
Damned boots.
Fingers flew at layers of clothing.
Finally...
"Obi-Wan," he said huskily, nearly undone at the sight of his naked Padawan, his flesh like pearl. "Let me--"
Obi-Wan knelt on the bed. His hand went to his penis, already half-hard. He looked back over his shoulder at Qui-Gon, wanton, beckoning. Qui-Gon stepped forward, and Obi-Wan arched his neck, licking his lips, his eyes half closed. Qui-Gon bent, kissed his shoulders, his back, his ears; his hands roamed freely, exploring thighs, hips, nipples, one hand finally coming to rest, curling around the hand that held Obi-Wan's cock.
"Master...inside me..." Obi-Wan twisted, knelt forward, his forehead pressed to one hand. The other hand remained on his penis, stroking its swollen length.
Qui-Gon--his hands most definitely shaking--retrieved a pot of scented oil from a drawer, smoothed a few drops over his hand. Obi-Wan groaned, presented himself to Qui-Gon.
"Now...now..."
Qui-Gon gently slid one finger inside Obi-Wan. Then out.
Obi-Wan groaned again.
Two fingers.
Three.
When he was satisfied that Obi-Wan was ready, he knelt behind him, entered him slowly.
"Master...ah...yes..."
Slow...
"Obi-Wan...my..."
Building...
And the pressure, pure need...
Sweet...agony...
Deep and endless, and Qui-Gon seized Obi-Wan's hips, thrusting mercilessly now.
Obi-Wan let out a cry of ecstasy, shuddered violently, and came.
Qui-Gon continued to thrust against Obi-Wan, still holding the young man's hips in a bruising grasp. Threw his head back, and climaxed with a shout, feeling his semen emptied into his padawan's beautiful body.
They both collapsed onto the bed, panting. Qui-Gon collected himself sufficiently to pull out of Obi-Wan and roll over, not wanting to injure the lithe young man beneath him, conscious that he outweighed Obi-Wan by a fair amount.
Obi-Wan shifted, gazed at Qui-Gon. One hand floated up to stroke Qui-Gon's face.
Qui-Gon smiled at him. "I do love you so, Obi-Wan."
"I..." Obi-Wan laughed suddenly. "Master...we should do it again."
Qui-Gon grinned more widely. "So soon, my voracious padawan?"
"Yes. Now. Again. Let's not leave this bed until neither of us can walk."
"If neither of us can walk, my apprentice, then we'll just have to stay in bed."
"Exactly." Another laugh, and Qui-Gon joined in, his hand clutching his forehead, miming exasperation.
"Are you trying to kill me, Padawan?"
Brilliant smile.
"What a lovely way to go." More laughter.
On the screen hanging above the young Jedi prisoner, the clone lying in bed with Qui-Gon Jinn stretches luxuriously, indolently. He turns his face to the screen and smiles.
"Wonderful."
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