Adumbration
by AlexPart 9
He looks exhausted, Qui-Gon thought.
Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, studying a datapad. His hair was wet, and his skin was glowingly clean. But his eyes were red, and there were violet smudges underneath them. He was ferociously intent on his reading, and didn't hear Qui-Gon come in.
"Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon softly.
Obi-Wan's head jerked up, and for a split second, Qui-Gon was taken aback. Obi-Wan's eyes were narrowed, flat, and wary. Then the illusion vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and Obi-Wan beamed, sprang up, and crossed the room. He threw his arms around Qui-Gon and embraced him tightly.
Qui-Gon, slightly surprised but not at all displeased at this demonstrative show of affection from his normally reserved padawan, returned the embrace warmly, seeking out the young man's lips with his own. They kissed, and Obi-Wan drew back almost shyly. He rested his head on Qui-Gon's broad shoulder.
"I missed you, Master," he said. "Where were you?"
"I met with Eeth Koth," Qui-Gon replied, his arms still wrapped about the young man, not willing to break the embrace. "We had unfinished business." He pressed his lips to the top of Obi-Wan's head, inhaling the scent of wet, freshly washed hair.
Would that I could always hold you so, Padawan, he thought.
"And where have you been, my apprentice, my early riser?" he teased. "I awoke and you had already gone. Most uncharacteristic of you, I thought."
Obi-Wan gazed up at him adoringly--Vanity, Qui-Gon told himself--a faint smile playing across his features, his eyes like night stars, and Qui-Gon felt an almost overwhelming surge of love. He wanted to kiss him and never stop...
"I went to Training Hall, and then I sat in on Master Billaba's philosophy class."
"Which explains why you look so drained, Padawan. The Chalactan school of thought is meandering and circuitous, is it not? I'm sure Master Billaba engaged you in debate."
"She did, Master," Obi-Wan admitted, "And beat me soundly, I'm ashamed to say."
Qui-Gon laughed and ruffled Obi-Wan's hair. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Padawan. Depa Billaba is the most agile debater that I have ever encountered, and she's made me feel like an idiot on more than one occasion. It's maddening."
"Yes, Master." A quick dip of the head, and an impish grin.
"Have you eaten, Obi-Wan?" asked Qui-Gon, finally--reluctantly--relinquishing his hold on the young man and leading him into the kitchen.
"No, Master."
"Nor have I, and I'm famished," Qui-Gon said, opening the cooler and rummaging through its contents.
"I can't believe this. Nothing," he announced.
"The cooler's full of food, Master."
"Yes, but there's nothing that I want," he said, with a sideways glance at Obi-Wan. It was a not very subtle hint, and he should be ashamed of himself. He'd taken advantage of his apprentice's impromptu culinary skills countless times. Idly he wondered where Obi-Wan had learned to cook. Certainly not from me, he thought.
"Master...there's quite a lot to eat. I'll heat up some stew."
"Fine. Thank you, Padawan."
Damn.
They ate companionably, with a minimum of conversation. Qui-Gon rose to tidy up, and Obi-Wan made sweet tea and carried it into the common room, where they sat, sipped. and made desultory conversation. Qui-Gon was intently aware of his apprentice's eyes on him, and wondered if there was a graceful way to let Obi-Wan know that he had an enormous erection, and could they possibly make love now, immediately?
Probably not.
"How was your meeting, Master?"
"Ah, very productive, Obi-Wan, and thank you for reminding me. I don't know where my mind is," he said, stretching his legs and sighing, trying to ignore his penis, which seemed to have achieved a life of its own. There's your mind, he remonstrated himself. Calm down. "We have a mission in a little less than a fortnight."
Obi-Wan looked at him in what Qui-Gon could have sworn was dismay.
"A...mission, Master?"
"Yes, Padawan. We are to go to Yrrna. There are rumors of terrorist activity there, and we are to--what's wrong, Obi-Wan?" Obi-Wan's face had become very pale and his eyes looked panicked. Qui-Gon frowned.
"Yrrna...but that's...that's an Outer Rim system...so far away."
"So it is, Obi-Wan. Why do you object? You're usually pleased when we leave Ccoruscant." Qui-Gon peered closely at his apprentice. Obi-Wan looked terrible. Qui-Gon would have to find out which of the healers had treated him. Clearly he was unwell.
Obi-Wan looked down, swallowed. "Forgive me, Master. I have no right to question you."
"Of course you do, Obi-Wan. I value your opinion. You know that." He covered Obi-Wan's hand with his own. "If you have a concern, you must tell me. We can no longer conceal things from each other."
"Yes, Master. It's just that..." he trailed off.
Qui-Gon waited.
"I...I just want you to...it's just that I want you all to myself. No distractions," Obi-Wan said, not meeting his eyes.
Qui-Gon could not refrain from smiling."Obi-Wan...you have me. No need to worry...or to let a mission get in the way." He reached out and brushed a hand gently over Obi-Wan's face, which was sleek enough to indicate that he'd just shaved, but there was a hint of masculine roughness as well...it was a distractingly erotic combination.
"Besides, " he continued, "A mission can provide many creative environs for lovemaking, Obi-Wan. Starship bunks, cargo holds, tents, single beds, 'freshers...the possibilities are limitless."
Obi-Wan laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Yes, Master." All at once the smile died.
"There's more, Padawan. Out with it."
"Master...what about the Council?"
"The Council?"
"Yes. The Council. And the Code. Because we..." he waved a hand. "You know."
He did. And he'd anticipated the question. He chose his words carefully. "With your permission, Obi-Wan, I intend to approach the Council regarding our relationship. You're not a child any longer, Padawan--indeed, you're well past the age of consent--but there will be an uproar of some kind. I'm certain of it. You may be called before the Council, so that they may ascertain that you haven't been forced, or coerced. It may be unpleasant for you, and I have no wish to see you suffer in any way."
"I see," murmured Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon felt another surge of love, nearly pain. Obi-Wan looked so young at that moment, and Qui-Gon knew that this must have been bothering him.
"As I said, Obi-Wan, I won't approach the Council without your permission. Give it time, my love, think about it. Until then we will be circumspect."
In all truth, Qui-Gon would have gone to the Council immediately. But he wanted to give Obi-Wan time and space to absorb their situation. He was so young, and doubtless still hungered for new experiences. Qui-Gon had no desire to hinder him...if Obi-Wan had doubts, let him resolve them before they met up with the inevitable obstacles that the Council would present.
Qui-Gon himself had no such doubts.
He lifted Obi-Wan's hand, pressed it to his lips.
Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon through his lashes.
"Come, my love." Qui-Gon drew Obi-Wan up, led him into the bedroom.
Obi-Wan stopped at the doorway.
"Damn."
"What is it?"
"Oh...nothing, master. Something I forgot to do earlier."
"Can it wait, Padawan?" Jestingly.
That smile again, achingly sweet.
"Of course, Master."
"Master..."
"Yes..."
"Make it hard. Make it hurt me."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Yes. Make it hurt." He slithered off the bed to the floor, crawled to the discarded clothing. He pulled a tunic sash from the pile, held it up before Qui-Gon, eyes blazing.
"Tie me up."
"Oh, Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon trailed off uncertainly.
"Do it. Bind me, use me, please yourself, Master."
Hesitantly Qui-Gon took the sash from Obi-Wan's hands.
"Are you certain, my love? I don't--"
"Yes!" Nearly a hiss. "Make me feel what--" he stopped.
"What?"
"Do it, Master, please."
Obi-Wan. On his knees. His for the taking. Offering himself...
Qui-Gon brushed a finger over his mouth. "How would...how would you like me to..."
A long moment of silence before Obi-Wan spoke.
"As my Master wishes."
It was too much. Qui-Gon stood, and walked around Obi-Wan, dropped to his knees behind him. He crossed Obi-Wan's wrists behind him and bound them with the length of sash, careful not to cut off the young man's circulation. He stood and watched Obi-Wan, gazing at him, his own erection painful now in its intensity. Yet he delayed; he delayed his own urges to behold the vision in front of him,incredibly beautiful, not one he would have chosen, nearly alien in its appeal...his padawan, bound, on his knees, submissive, his penis jutting out, gods, yes...
He took in the details that were the sum of Obi-Wan's beauty, aware that he'd done it a thousand times before. But then it was...furtive, guilty, and he'd been ashamed of himself, at his lack of control. Now he was free to look as he might, to please himself.
Obi-Wan's head tipped down, and Qui-Gon bent low and planted a kiss at the vulnerable looking base of his neck. He knelt again behind Obi-Wan and kissed his shoulders, the tip of his tongue dancing over the freckles there, a pattern he'd long since memorized. Down his back, over the delicate protrusion of spine and shoulder blades, enhanced by muscle and sinew. Power sheathed in beauty.
He kissed Obi-Wan's arms down to his bound wrists. Obi-Wan's fingers flexed and Qui-Gon kissed them, taking two, then three in his mouth, biting gently. Obi-Wan groaned. "Master..."
"Yes, my Obi-Wan?"
"Not enough...make it hurt me...I want you to."
"I thought you would have me please myself, love."
"You want to. I know it...ahh..." and he trembled as Qui-Gon's hand insinuated itself between his thighs, manipulating his balls, now curling around his cock and exerting only the smallest bit of pressure.
"Master...take me..."
Take me.
Use me.
Hurt me.
Again too much, and all the instincts he'd never known he possessed rose up, claimed him, and he rose upwards, dragging Obi-Wan to the bed, pleased at the gasp of pain or pleasure that escaped his apprentice, his student, his to command. He flung Obi-Wan face down, reveled in the sight, the position in which he'd landed, his head turned to the side, his legs spread, knees ever so slightly bent, his bound hands curled into fists as if in fear, pulling at the restraints. Obi-Wan ground his hips into the bed and let out a strangled cry.
"Master, no, please, no...let me go..."
Qui-Gon hesitated. A ripple of Force, a whisper, another voice...no.
His own dark urges, and he would obey, because he could not stop himself, no, not even if he wanted to. He swiped hastily at the pot of oil, rubbed it over his cock, and plunged in, savagely delighting in the primal howl that arose from the writhing body beneath him, not caring whether the cry was one of agony or ecstasy, and he pounded, the sound of Obi-Wan's moans, their bodies slamming against each other, and his own guttural cries resounding in his ears, intoxicating, and finally they came, one after another, their voices blending, dissonant music, crashing again and again.
Qui-Gon drifted in and out of sleep.
"Obi-Wan." A murmur.
"Yes, Master?"
"We must begin to work on our bond. It has suffered...before things get..."
He yawned hugely.
"Get what, Master?"
"Complicated." Another yawn.
"Oh. Of course. Don't worry, Master." Arms stole around him.
"Anyway..." he mumbled sleepily, "think of the sex. Bond-enhanced sex, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan laughed, and Qui-Gon smiled as he spiraled slowly into sleep.
He slept deeply, not feeling the man beside him rise noiselessly from the bed and leave the room.
As Mace Windu left his quarters for Council, he nearly stepped on a small parcel outside his door. Frowning, he picked it up and looked at it. It was wrapped in silk and tied with a ribbon.
He unwrapped it slowly.
A holodisc.
He went back into his quarters and slid the disc into his comm unit.
His smooth dark countenance betrayed no emotion as he watched the contents of the disc for several very long minutes.
He left once again, pocketing the disc and making his way to the Council chamber. The other members of the council were already seated.
"You're late, Master Windu." Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice was slightly irritable.
"We have need to discuss a serious matter, Masters."
"We have an agenda, Master Windu. Can it not wait?"
"It cannot wait." His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking its gravity.
"Very well. What does this concern?"
"Qui-Gon Jinn...and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20