PLEASE NOTE!  THESE ARE SLASH STORIES - THAT MEANS TWO MEN IN ROMANTIC &/or SEXUAL SITUATIONS!

George Lucas owns everything.
With loads of thanks and honey-covered padawans to Pfyre for the betaing and the tweaking. And for persuading me to release this!

Swamped
By elfin

Desperation drove him on. Despite the mud, the rain, the aching exhaustion and his body's pleas to rest, if only for a moment. He did not have a moment. Qui-Gon yanked his cloak up, having to tread determinedly to prevent himself from sinking into the quagmire that the planet's surface had become through this torrential downpour. His heart pounded, his cheeks burned and his head hurt. But none of it was of any importance. The bright light that had always been in his mind was dying, fading from his grasp. It would soon be too late.

He tripped, and only his natural, training-enhanced reactions allowed him to steady himself in the Force and to keep his balance. He looked down to see what he had stumbled over. His pounding heart leapt as his eyes found the mud-soaked body in the sludge. Dropping to his knees, he turned the still form over, wiping away the dirt from the beautiful face and wiping his hand on his tunic before scooping his fingers into his ward's mouth and digging out the mud that had been taken in.

Obi-Wan was not breathing, Qui-Gon knew that much just from looking at his apprentice. He tried to find a pulse, but as he believed he had one, it stopped altogether. Qui-Gon cried out at the injustice, and dropped the body back into the mud. Tearing open the young man's tunic and once more checking his mouth for filth, he began resuscitation. He put ten steady breaths into his apprentice's lungs, and laced his fingers over his heart, breaking already cracked ribs as he compressed Obi-Wan's chest, forcing blood into the heart.

He repeated the cycle over and over, unheeded tears falling from his eyes, cutting tracks through the mud on Obi-Wan's face. "Breathe, damn you," he muttered as the heel of his hand dug almost brutally into his padawan's chest. "Don't you dare leave me, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon did not realize his words had been so loudly called until he heard himself in the wind. The gales were howling around them now, the rain a constant backlash of water drops cutting into his chilled face and hands. He had no idea for how long he kept it up - far longer than anyone would have considered Obi-Wan's chances of survival. But Qui-Gon did not - could not - give up.

He leaned in to give the fourth breath of the sequence, when he stopped dead. Something was happening under his fingers. A single heartbeat managed alone. Again he bent to assist the ravaged system by breathing for it, when Obi-Wan simultaneously gasped and retched. Qui-Gon turned him, holding his head steady as mud and dirt were thrown up from his throat and lungs. He carefully put his fingers into his apprentice's mouth, scooping out any remaining blockage before slipping his large hand between Obi-Wan's head and the muddy ground in which it lay. With the fingers of his other hand he searched for and located a pulse on his padawan's neck, monitoring it, keeping a close check also on his breathing.

They had only a few minutes to be spared in this way. Obi-Wan needed medical care and they were far from it. His shuttle however, only by the miracle of The Force he had managed to land it in one piece and it had not sunk into the mud, offered shelter, supplies and warmth, and would get them off this hellish planet when the storms subsided. Obi-Wan's body was already in shock and could too easily sink dangerously deeper. They had to get to safety.

Qui-Gon made the decision and rose to a crouch. Leaning down, his scooped his padawan out of the mud and into his arms. Obi-Wan's head rolled sickeningly against his shoulder. Yet he was still breathing, and that was the very best that Qui-Gon could hope for at the moment. Turning, thankful that the wind was now at his back, Qui-Gon started back toward the shuttle.

*

Obi-Wan was a dead weight in his arms when he finally reached the shuttle. Qui-Gon dropped him gently on to one of the two small berths while he massaged the blood back into his own arms. But the padawan's abused system would not wait long. Qui-Gon found the first aid kit and filled a small bowl with water, finding a clean cloth. He started by striping the filthy clothes from his student's deathly still form, feeling the chill of his skin as the robes came away.

A careful investigation of the young man's injuries revealed a-wound on the back of his skull. Qui-Gon put a little effort into healing the ribs that he had broken in order to save his padawan's life. He was exhausted himself though, and had precious little energy to devote to healing Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon cleaned his apprentice gently, wiping the cloth over his body before dressing him in a clean, dry robe and covering him in blankets. He was reluctant to wash the young man's hair, worried about the effect it would have on his body temperature, but it was caked in mud, and Obi-Wan really did hate being mucky. Lovingly, Qui-Gon wet his fingers and carded them through Obi-Wan's short hair, removing the dirt first from his head, and them from the braid that he freed from its ties.

Finally the young man was as clean as he was going to get. His wounds were tended and dressed, and he was wrapped up warm. Qui-Gon could only hope it was enough. He cleared up, and undressed himself, changing his own filthy clothes for fresh ones, glad of Yoda's advice when he had packed the shuttle for this rescue mission. His mind had not been clear as he had readied to leave Coruscant.

Qui-Gon took the berth across from Obi-Wan's and lay awake, watching his unconscious apprentice. The shuttle was cramped, small enough to enable Qui-Gon to reach over and touched his padawan's cold face. He was not warming. Hypothermia seemed to be setting in. Resolutely, Qui-Gon climbed from his bed and moved to the other, carefully moving to lie behind his ward. He wrapped himself very gently around the chilled body, willing his warmth through to the young man.

Slipping his arm under Obi-Wan's neck, Qui-Gon closed his eyes. Exhaustion finally dragged him into a restless sleep.

*

Frightened to open his eyes, Obi-Wan lay still, chilled to the bone despite the enveloping warm of the mud he believed would be his grave. His mind wept at his pointless death, yet physically he did not have the strength. He could not move, held by the dirt caked around him. He considered reaching out with his senses, with the Force. But he saw little point in doing so; Qui-Gon, anyone, was far from here. The planet was dangerous, deserted. That was why they had chosen this place for his test.

And he had failed. He was going to die, if he was not dead already. Was there death for him? Would he eventually sleep and never wake. Or was this the Force, keeping his mind imprisoned in his mistreated body? The darkness pushed at the edge of his consciousness, and suddenly he did not want to let go to it. He started to struggle, anger and rage willing him to move from the coffin nature was forming around him....

...Qui-Gon awoke with an armful of terrified padawan. He released his hold slightly. The arm tucked under Obi-Wan's head was in a bloodless sleep of its own. But he brought the other arm up to stroke Obi-Wan's side and hair.
"Obi-Wan, Padawan, it's alright, you're safe." Obi-Wan came to consciousness with sickening speed. He retched in vain as his eyes opened to the dim lighting of the craft. Qui-Gon's hands touched his forehead. "Obi?"
The soft tones pierced the fog in Obi-Wan's mind and he focused on his master's touch. "Mast...."
"I'm here, we're in the shuttle, Obi-Wan, you're going to be fine."

Rescued. The thought came to Obi-Wan in a sudden wave. Qui-Gon had come for him. "Failed...."
"No, Padawan. They made a terrible mistake sending you here. They sent me for you. It was the council's failing, my Padawan, not yours. I promise you they will not make another mistake with your life." It was a heartfelt promise that Qui-Gon had silently made his student before now. He meant it through to his soul.
Obi-Wan released a deep breath and huddled back into his master's warmth. "So cold...."
"I know, Obi, I've been trying to warm you...." He knew basic first aid, and he cursed himself. Pulling his arm bonelessly from under Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon pulled his robe over his head and very gently manoeuvred his student's robe from his body. Obi-Wan allowed the manipulation, trusting his very soul to his master. Burrowing back under the blankets, Qui-Gon enfolded his apprentice into his arms, pressing his student's back to his own chest. His own body warmth began to warm Obi-Wan immediately.

"We shall take off as soon as the weather calms, Obi-Wan." But his apprentice was already sleeping again, deep and dangerous. Qui-Gon sighed softly. He stepped cautiously into his student's mind, winding a tendril of the Force around Obi-Wan. Knowing that his apprentice waking would also wake him, Qui-Gon allowed himself also to sleep.

*

He was warmer and calmer when he next opened his eyes. His master was solid behind him, wrapped around him, and he knew that at least for the moment, he was safe. He felt soft lips press to his shoulder, and he stiffened for a mere moment before smiling and moving back into the contact.

Qui-Gon came to his senses suddenly. "Padawan," he had to stop himself moving away. "I'm sorry...."
Obi-Wan frowned at the mortification in his master's tone; it had only been a touch. "No apologies. 'S nice." He felt Qui-Gon's hesitation and then another intimate kiss to his neck.
"I was so worried that I'd lost you, Padawan. I won't let you go now." Qui-Gon cast his senses outside. The storms had subsided. "I'm going to get us home, Obi-Wan. Will you be alright?"
"Yes."

Qui-Gon climbed out of bed, dressing Obi-Wan in his robe and tucking the sheets around him. Painfully determined, Obi-Wan turned to smile as his master dressed. "Master... thank you."
Qui-Gon crouched down by the bed, touching Obi-Wan's forehead with his fingers, and then his lips. "Get some more rest. We'll be home soon."

*** ***

Having Obi-Wan taken from him on their arrival was almost more than Qui-Gon could bear. Despite the journey only taking a few hours, Obi-Wan's condition had deteriorated quickly. He had lost consciousness an hour into the trip, and this time Qui-Gon had been unable to wake him.

The master Jedi was, in truth, relieved to find the medical entourage waiting for them on the docking pad. But Yoda gently yet firmly held him back from interfering. Everything possible would be done for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon just had to let the healers do their job.

"Trust, you must," Yoda told him as they walked finally into the infirmary, behind the crowd who had taken Obi-Wan.
"I know, my Master. It's just... difficult."
"Know, I do, Qui-Gon." His low voice was gentle understanding.

In the main hall of the infirmary, they were asked to wait. A moment later, Qui-Gon sank into one of the chairs, moaning softly as his hands held his head. Obi-Wan's heart had once again failed him; Qui-Gon knew that with complete certainty. He could sense his padawan's terrified struggle to cling to life despite his body's wish to give in to the hurt. Without quite realizing what he was doing, Qui-Gon reached out to Obi-Wan, snagging him in his master's own life force and holding him them, helping him reach his physical body.

Only vaguely did Qui-Gon hear the commotion beyond the walls. He fell forward, caught by the Force manipulated by Yoda. It was the last he knew for a while.

*

Obi-Wan came to slowly, his body feeling like lead. He turned his head and could not suppress the whimper as the shot of pain sliced through his head. Immediately, there was a cool, soothing touch to his cheek and the murmur of a comforting voice. He could not quite catch the actual words spoken, but the tone was reassuring and he soon sank back into the healing darkness, cradled now by a warmth in his mind.

*

The next time he came to wakefulness, the pain had lessened and an easy haze had settled over him. For someone so aware as Obi-Wan, it was a disturbing sensation and he fought it, trying to bring a clear, concise thought to his mind.
"Easy, Padawan." Again his master was at his side. "The drugs are simply preventing you from feeling the pain, nothing more." Qui-Gon's explanation was quickly accepted. Obi-Wan remembered the agony of before and was vaguely grateful for the medication. Blindly, he reached out a trembling, weak hand and it was taken and held. "I'm here, Obi-Wan. There's nothing to be afraid of."
Trusting in that voice, feeling something when he heard it that somehow warmed him, Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes. What he saw was a blur. But the light was dim, thankfully. Blinking rapidly, Obi-Wan cleared his vision to make out the shape of his master sitting by his bedside. "Master...."
A gentle hand brushed over his forehead, down his bare arms. "Rest, my Padawan, everything is well now."
Accepting again, Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

*

"Sleep, you should." Qui-Gon opened his eyes to look directly at his master's concerned gaze. He had rested here, leaning on the bed, Obi-Wan's hand tucked into both of his, for two days, moving only when nature forced him to.
"I will not leave him, as well you know." His tone remained respectful, with only the smallest of tired teasing. Yoda had tried persuading him to move every few hours.
"Fine, he will be."
"Yes. And frightened he is." Qui-Gon sighed softly, his eyes sweeping over the pale face of his sleeping apprentice. "After all he's been through... I'm not surprised."
"Strong he is, Qui-Gon." But Yoda's voice held warm affection.
"That does not prevent me from worrying about him, or for wanting to be near him."
"The only reason it is not."
Qui-Gon's head snapped around, his intense stare pinning his master. "What does that mean?"
"Know you do." Yoda's tone was grave, yet his eyes twinkled. "A bond you formed."

Qui-Gon swallowed guiltily. It was true, although it had not been intentional. Reaching for Obi-Wan, when his padawan had been falling, Qui-Gon had indeed planted the seed of a soulbond that was even now blossoming into something beautiful, something intense. Something permanent. "I... did not mean it to happen."
Yoda's small hand settled over Qui-Gon's arm, and for a quiet moment they watched Obi-Wan together. "Precious he is. Loves you he does. Concern yourself not, Qui-Gon. Right, this is."

A quiet sound shut them both up. Qui-Gon smiled when he found himself looking into quizzical blue-green eyes. "Padawan...."
"Water?"
Qui-Gon reached for the glass and drinking straw, holding the end of the straw to Obi-Wan's lips as he took several sips. He dropped his head back to indicate it was enough, and Qui-Gon thought he might return to sleep. Instead, he seemed to fight his drowsiness. "...you all right?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "I am in perfect health, young one. You, however, need to rest."
Obi-Wan's face rumpled. "'nough sleep."
Always so stubborn, Qui-Gon thought, grateful just to have Obi-Wan there. A miracle, the healers had said, that he had survived the journey back to Coruscant at all. Sheer bloodimindedness had always been on Obi-Wan's side. "You were very badly hurt, Padawan, you need to sleep to allow your body to heal."
Obi-Wan finally seemed to accept that, although his fingers tightened around Qui-Gon's hand as his eyes closed once again.

*

Two days later, Qui-Gon was not aware of anything as he was aware of the developing bond between he and his padawan. Obi-Wan was healing, and the Jedi Master believed he could almost feel the process as if it were his own body recovering from such a trauma.

Obi-Wan spent longer and longer periods awake, and a lot of that time was taken up by watching his master, as his master watched him. Qui-Gon was beginning to become concerned. His padawan had been playing with his fingers, seeming to need the physical contact as badly as Qui-Gon yearned for it. The soulbond. Qui-Gon understood the requirement for newly-bondeds to be together, to touch more than usual. It eased the dull ache that a new bond could give.

"Does it hurt, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked carefully, late the following afternoon. Obi-Wan looked at him with confused eyes and nodded. Qui-Gon sighed. "I am sorry, Obi-Wan. It is my fault."
Obi-Wan frowned at that. "No.... Master, you saved my life."
"Maybe. But it seems that by doing so, I have created something neither of us can deny."
Obi-Wan smiled tentatively. "The bond."
Qui-Gon nodded. "You've noticed it," he commented wryly.
A small chuckle escaped the younger man's lips. "It's impossible not to, Master." His smile faded. "Will it hurt us?" The sparkle in his master's eye - however small - reassured Obi-Wan.
"No, Padawan, it will not. What you're feeling at the moment - the need to be close to me - is natural for a new bond. I feel it also."

Obi-Wan took this in, continuing to play absently with his master's fingers. "How did it happen?"
Qui-Gon stroked the back of his padawan's hand, wondering at how the small hurt within him eased with such simple contact. "When I first brought you in here, your heart stopped again, as it had when I found you. I could feel you... slipping away from me as I could before. I couldn't let you go and so I reached out for you and pulled you back."
The emotion in the tone betrayed Qui-Gon's feeling behind his simplistic words. Obi-Wan found that he could sense his master's true emotions easily now. "Master... if there is no death, what had you to fear of my dying?"
Qui-Gon could not suppress a smile as his own teachings were repeated back at him by his student. Obi-Wan had been an inquisitive child. He was a wise man. "I feared losing you," he admitted freely. "I feared waking to days that you would not fill. Feared taking meals without the fulfillment of your conversation. Feared having to face a mission without you by my side. I feared never seeing your beautiful eyes dance with mischief just one more time."

Silence fell between them, yet the bond pulsed with the same raw emotions that Qui-Gon had somehow put into words. Obi-Wan clasped his master's hand harder, as if that would allay the sudden tears that pooled in his eyes. Maintaining the contact with his left hand, Qui-Gon used the thumb of his right to wipe the tears from the corners of his padawan's eyes. Then he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the young man's forehead.
"Rest, Obi-Wan. I will be here."

*

Qui-Gon woke suddenly, launching himself from the chair when his eyes set upon the empty bed before him. Panic had almost taken hold when he heard his name spoken softly from the doorway. Obi-Wan was walking toward him, swaying slightly, but looking healthier than he had since leaving Coruscant a week ago. He looked younger too, the medical gown he wore covering him from neck to ankles and his hair hanging free from his pony-tail and braid.

Qui-Gon reached for his padawan, steadying him as he made his way back to the bed. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Master." He smiled as Qui-Gon helped him under the sheets. "Just nature's call." He looked up at his master. "You needed to sleep." He glanced away. "I owe you my life."
Catching an edge of the guilt in his padawan's words, as well as an echo of failure in their bond, Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his student's bed, finding Obi-Wan's hand in his own. "Your safety is my obligation, Obi-Wan." But his young apprentice knew better, knew Qui-Gon felt more for him than simple obligation. "I will always find you," Qui-Gon offered eventually, smiling gently.
Obi-Wan reflected his master's expression and settled down on his side, eyes closing. "I am all right, aren't I?" he murmured tiredly.
"Of course." Qui-Gon ran a gentle hand over Obi-Wan's hair. "Your system's had a bad shock, Padawan. You need to rest to heal. This is usual. Sleep, young one. I'll be here when you wake."
Hand still held in Qui-Gon's, Obi-Wan allowed himself to slip into a peaceful sleep.

*** ***

After six days in the infirmary, Obi-Wan was released into his master's care. Qui-Gon spoilt him, bringing him his favourite foods, reading to him as he rested, making him take his master's large bed while Qui-Gon slept in Obi-Wan's room. The apprentice endured three days of such gentle treatment before persuading Qui-Gon that he could safely be left alone for a few hours.

"I've been hovering, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him as they sat on the staging before one of the floor to ceiling windows that looked out from the main living area down into the courtyard below. Qui-Gon's rooms were of a slightly higher status than most of the masters'.
Obi-Wan's genuine smile warmed him. "No, Master. But this is the eighth time the council have summoned you since our return. I think you ought to go."
It was true. They had summoned him but Qui-Gon had refused to leave Obi-Wan's side. Master Yoda had visited them and checked on the padawan's health - physical and mental - several times. His concern, Qui-Gon had hinted, was mostly founded in the council's collective guilt. Obi-Wan should not have been sent alone to that particular planet during the wet season. Qui-Gon himself had alerted them to their mistake when the pain of flying debris cracking open his skull had been sent from Obi-Wan back to his master through their training bond. For that to occur at such distance was unusual and worthy of immediate panic.

Since then, Qui-Gon had had very little to say to the council. Yoda knew that, yet they would continue to call on him until he saw them.
"All right, Padawan, I shall go. But if you need me..."
"...you'll be the very first to know." Qui-Gon smiled, knowing perhaps for the first time that it was really true.

*

Qui-Gon returned to their rooms to be greeted by the most wonderful scents. Aromatic sandalwood and spices filled the rooms, a telltale sign of indulgence by his young padawan. He smiled softly to himself, the boy deserved it after what he had endured. His swift recovery had been nothing short of miraculous, the healers had apparently informed the council. They could not say how long he had been 'dead' before Qui-Gon had brought him back the first time. Could not or would not. But the shock, the hypothermia, and the injuries he had suffered should have put him out of action for longer than it had.

"Take good care of him you must," Yoda had told him needlessly. He barely felt able to let Obi-Wan out of his sight.

"Obi-Wan, are you all right?" His bond with his padawan was at peace, yet he got no reply to his call. Qui-Gon crossed the sunset bathed living area to quietly open the door to the bathing room. The sight that met his eyes relayed sudden messages to his mind and body that he had not realized were there and now understood. Yet he could not close the door, nor could he avert his gaze. Obi-Wan was lying in the large, filled bathtub. His body floated lightly in the oiled water, his head lolled against one side in sleep. He looked as calm and as at rest as Qui-Gon had ever seen him. Obi-Wan was strong, he had of course pulled through the trauma of his ordeal quickly and with the resilience of youth.

//He's not a boy any longer, Qui // The Jedi master mused. Indeed, he was not. Obi-Wan's body was the epitome of young beauty. No longer the pre-pubescent child that Qui-Gon had raised from a small, frightened boy into a skilled apprentice, Obi-Wan now displayed the physique of a young man. Shamed with himself, yet unable to resist, Qui-Gon allowed his gaze to travel the length of his padawan's body. Sculptured chest, flat stomach, full cock rested asleep against his thigh, thick and adequate even at rest.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard and willed himself to step back and close the door. He moved swiftly to the centre of the living area and turned to stare out into the sun drenched courtyard below the window. This had always been their home. In the smaller of the two sleeping rooms off to his left he had so often tucked a young Obi into bed and told him a story of Jedi legend and truth. In recent years they had engaged in other rituals before bed; a game of chess, quiet meditation in the amber of the sunset, simply talking together.

And then the council had set him a test and risked his life. Long ago he had admitted to himself that he loved his apprentice with more than just his heart. Obi-Wan had captured his soul also, how could he not? The last eight days had just brought his own feelings home to him. How much longer would he bury them and deny Obi-Wan the intense love that the young man so richly deserved?

"Master?"
Qui-Gon spun, shocked out of his own thoughts by his padawan's concerned tone. Obi-Wan was standing in the doorway of the bathing room, a long white towel wrapped around his body, his shoulders visible above it, his shins and feet below. "Master? Is everything all right?"
//so beautiful// Qui-Gon regretted the thought immediately, knowing Obi-Wan would easily have picked it up, and recovered admirably. "Everything is fine, young padawan, I was merely concerned for you. How are you feeling?"
Obi-Wan had indeed picked up something, an echo almost, a wave of gentle affection in his master's regard. It warmed him. "Perfectly fine, Master. I do wish you would allow me to return to my studies." There was a hint of impatience in his tone, mixed with a deep and mature - Qui-Gon mused - understanding.
"Another day or two, young imp. You suffered greatly and must allow your body chance to recover fully before you begin punishing it further." He had stepped up to Obi-Wan, and could feel the heat from the other man's body, could breath in the fresh scent of clean skin and mingled spices. His mind reeled. What in Force was he doing? He managed a smile. "Relax, Padawan. Now how often do I give you leave to do that?"

Qui-Gon moved away and headed for the door. "Master?" Obi-Wan's tone was one of slight confusion. Qui-Gon could see how his own actions had been bizarre and almost abrupt. He touched their bond, hoping to find no sense of hurt. He found none to his relief. He even thought he sensed... amusement.
"I have some duties to attend to." It was partially true. He just needed time to think, to order his thoughts. "Just the usual Temple stuff." He waved his hand. "I won't be long. Will you be all right?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly in his respectful response and watched with puzzlement as the door closed behind his master. 'Usual Temple stuff'?!

Sighing, he gathered the towel up from around himself and rubbed his flesh dry. When he touched his cock, it sprang into his hand like a pet wanting attention. His body had healed and his strength had returned. With all that had come the aching desire he usually held in check with ease. His master's almost constant presence had not helped, and his growing awareness of the soulbond was amplifying his needs to an almost unbearable level. He had already pleasured himself while bathing, yet once again his body was demanding release.

He sighed again, dropping the towel to the floor and holding himself as he walked to his sleeping room. Dropping down on the bed, he closed his eyes and masturbated slowly, luxuriously, pleasuring himself as Qui-Gon had taught him - in words only - so long ago it seemed. The thought of his master, of the intensity developing between them, the palable tension that would be so delicious when broken, spurred him to a hard, fast orgasm.

*

Qui-Gon stepped back into their quarters feeling a little more in control than he had previously. He had of course sensed his padawan's release, and could even now feel the slumbering desire simmering just below the surface of the young mind he grew more aware of each hour.

Obi-Wan was sitting comfortably against the inner wall next to the window, clad in his tunic and leggings, legs stretched out, his bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was reading something, a book Qui-Gon recognised as being part of the 'Catch Trilogy' - a long, involved work of fiction by a recognized classic Jedi author. Qui-Gon used to read to Obi-Wan from the first book when the padawan was just a child.

"Obi?"
Obi-Wan looked up, a smile of delight on his face. "How long has it been since you called me that?"
"Perhaps too long." His padawan obviously did not remember his words as they had rested in the shuttle. Qui-Gon moved to sit before his padawan, crossing his legs and lifting Obi-Wan's feet into his lap, beginning a slow, practiced massage. The apprentice moaned softly, letting his body relax back against the wall, dropping the book into his lap.
"That's good, Master." The word had a different quality when spoken in relaxed pleasure. It sent a shiver of heat up Qui-Gon's spine. Why was he feeling this now? He gazed at his Padawan. Because he had almost lost him, that was why. There was nothing else in his life that he would not be able to live without. He shivered at the concept, and felt a wave of reassurance come through their bond. He looked up, smiling openly as he met his padawan's brilliant eyes. "I love you," Obi-Wan stated suddenly, simply, as if it was something he had declared a million times previously.
Qui-Gon let out a soft sound, as if Obi-Wan's words had been a physical caress. "I love you too, Padawan."

They could each sense the truth of the other's words. What had scared Qui-Gon about the soulbond - the need to be close to his padawan, worries about what the future would bring for them, the almost desperate sexual need for one another that other soulbond pairs had reported - now all seemed insignificant against the backdrop of being allowed into his Obi-Wan's mind. The mind-touch alone was more intimate than anything Qui-Gon had ever known. What would the other be like? The physical....

Qui-Gon waited for a while, keeping up the pressures of his fingers on Obi-Wan's feet. After a time, he asked. "Padawan, were you scared when you were on the planet?"
Obi-Wan lifted his head to regard his master seriously. Not many questions had a right or wrong answer, he sensed this one did. He only knew the truth. "Yes, Master."
"Of what?" It was gently put.
"Of never seeing you again." He paused, but only the truth would do he reminded himself. "Of failing you."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "You've never failed me."
Obi-Wan paused, reveling in the praise as he always had. Then he asked, "How about you? Were you scared?"
With a gentle sigh, Qui-Gon answered. "My Obi, I tripped over your body in the mud. You're the most precious thing in my life. How do you think I felt?"

Their gazes locked and they moved together, meeting in a graceful tangle of arms and lips. It felt as if a spark had been lit somewhere deep in Qui-Gon's soul and within the light of the flames he could suddenly see what before had been invisible to him. His padawan tasted like honey, and felt like paradise in his arms.

Not breaking the kiss, not wanting to face the reality of their situation, Obi-Wan pushed his master back until he was leaning once again against the wall. Then he straddled his master, getting close to him, trying to crawl into his skin. His fists bunched in the soft material of Qui-Gon's robe and tunic, his tongue thrusting deeper into the warm, wet mouth devouring him.

Breathless, Qui-Gon pulled his mouth from the other's. Obi-Wan moaned desperately at the loss until his master gripped his head and yanked it back almost painfully, those moist lips delving in for an assault on his neck. The young apprentice combed his fingers into his master's long hair, curling it around his hand, directing the head lower into the low, open collar of his tunic.

Qui-Gon needed no directing. He longed for the taste of his padawan's skin, to feel graceful fingers walk over his body, teasing, discovering, as his so wanted to do. He gathered his apprentice in his arms as his tongue dipped beneath the material that separated them. Obi-Wan moaned, his desire growing, and that sound broke what little remained of Qui-Gon's control. He reached between them, pulling his padawan's tunic open, kissing every inch of skin exposed to his ministrations.

Obi-Wan's fingers played in his hair, unfastening the leather tie there, freeing the long silk. He leaned in to trace the shell of Qui-Gon's ear, using the tip of his tongue to draw a wet line around the outside before plunging inside for a moment. His master shuddered against him, powerful arms tightening around him lest he should try to escape.

Obi-Wan wanted anything but. "More," he urged Qui-Gon.
"Obi...." Qui-Gon's hands made light work of the cloth belt around his apprentice's waist, opening the tunic, giving himself more of his padawan's flesh to touch and taste. Obi-Wan pressed himself into the searching hands roaming his chest, under the heavy cloth of his tunic around his back.
"Qui, please, pleasepleaseplease." Qui-Gon smiled at the abbreviation of his name spoken in desire. A writhing padawan in his arms - this padawan - was something he had thought about on some lonely nights. The reality was so much more. He slipped his hands into Obi-Wan's leggings, grabbing the firm ass tightly to his padawan's squeal of delight.

Obi-Wan had been busy with Qui-Gon's tunic, managing to reveal his master's body to his ministrations. Now his hands were seeking their own answers across his master's chest and stomach. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon breathed the name into his neck.
Obi-Wan raised his head, breathless, storm-green eyes gazing heatedly into deep blue ones. "Don't tell me we can't do this. We both want this."
"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort, Padawan. I... I just love the sound of your name."
Obi-Wan smiled, returning his attention to his master's mouth. His tongue played across the luscious lips, dipping inside the welcoming mouth, tasting everything he had ever fantasized about.

Qui-Gon gasped as hands that had sought their way into his trousers grasped his erect shaft with a sure grip. His eyes sparkling, the master returned the gesture, himself hardening at his padawan's long moan of need. Obi-Wan silently thanked the Force for his earlier self-stimulated release, without which his master's sure grip would certainly have caused him some embarrassment.

But he wanted more. Pulling back from Qui-Gon's embrace, Obi-Wan made his way down the body being offered to him, wincing slightly as his chest complained at the further abuse. He ignored the jab, edging Qui-Gon's trousers down as he went, lowering his head to kiss his master's stomach. Qui-Gon drew in a deep breath and held it as his padawan's fingers threaded into his tangled curls a moment before those skilled lips descended along his cock.

//breathe// The amusement in the mental command took Qui-Gon by surprise, and he did as he was told as his student continued to stimulate and lather him with a talented tongue. When Obi-Wan moved off him, Qui-Gon had to bite back the cry, did not quite succeed. His padawan covered his lips with a passionate kiss, squirming in the master's arms as he removed his own leggings. Qui-Gon moaned into his apprentice's mouth when he realized what Obi-Wan had in mind.

The padawan straddled his master, a beautiful sound - half moan, half growl - escaping his lips when Qui-Gon's fingers stroked his hanging scrotum, making their way around to his ass. "Oh, do that again," Qui-Gon muttered happily.
Obi-Wan caught his breath. "What?"
"That sound... it's you, your soul... your heart."
Obi-Wan had no idea what his master was talking about. The only thing he was aware of was the touch of those maddening fingers, teasing now, seeking entry but waiting for his ascent. He leaned forward, pressing a desperate kiss on his master's parted lips. "Please, Qui-Gon."

At his words he was being gloriously entered and opened, those fingers trailing a path of fire into his body, setting him alight as they touched a bright spot within him. He yelled hard, clenching his muscles around his master's fingers, wanting more. //now, do it, now please// "Qui, please!"
Gently pulling out, Qui-Gon grasped his padawan's hips and pulled his forward, trapping their cocks together for a breathtaking moment before Obi-Wan lifted himself and reached down for his master's straining cock. Positioning himself, he sank down slowly, taking Qui-Gon within him.

They gripped one another, kissing and touching everywhere at once, muttering to one another with words and thoughts. Their bond flared, brighter than either could have imagined. //Obi I love you//
//love you too, Qui. More than life//

Obi-Wan rose up and lowered himself again, whimpering with need when Qui-Gon's hand closed around his cock. They moved together in harmony, as one. The Force gathered around them, chaotic as their desires mounted. Obi-Wan yelled a bright profanity as his master's grip tightened and speeded, chasing him over the edge into orgasm. His own climax triggered Qui-Gon's and they collapsed together.

Enfolding his padawan into his arms in protectiveness and security was second nature for Qui-Gon. Embracing him in the afterglow of love-making, he found, could be a sensation to live for. Eventually, Obi-Wan's complaining injuries made him move, convinced him to search for a more comfortable position. Before he knew it, the floor was disappearing from under him and he was being swept up into Qui-Gon's arms. He felt so good there. Obi-Wan smiled and snuggled. "You heard me."
"In case you hadn't noticed, you're very open to me at the moment."
//and you to me//

*

Mace Windu bristled as they watched the scene unfold in the courtyard below them. They had been discussing Obi-Wan's test, and the apology that Qui-Gon had reminded the council that they still owed his padawan. In the gardens below them, Obi-Wan had been meditating. His outward serene calm impressed even Yoda. The young apprentice blamed no one for his near-death during his test. He had been polite and attentive whenever any council member had spoken to him. And the only defiance they had previously seen had been mere sparkles in his eyes.

Qui-Gon stepped up behind his padawan and lowered himself to sit behind him, one leg either side of the slim, powerful body. Obi-Wan smiled, leaning back into his master's arms when they wrapped around his waist. Maybe that could have been explained in terms of concern, the stress of the last few days telling on them both. But the soft kisses that Qui-Gon rained on his padawan's neck, the unmistakable roll of Obi-Wan's head to give his master access, the curve of his lips, the close of his eyes.... And the kiss they shared, long and deep.

Mace glanced down at a smiling Yoda. "We cannot allow this."
"A choice we do not have."
"You knew about this?"
"Fated to happen, it was."

Obi-Wan moaned softly, smiling. "Have I expressed how much I love this change in our relationship?"
Qui-Gon nuzzled his neck. "Twice last night, twice this morning."
His padawan moaned, squirming slightly under his master's lips. "Not just the sex... although it is mind-blowing. This... you... your arms, your mouth, the way you're holding me now, the way you held me last night."
"It means everything to me too, beloved."
Tilting his head, Obi-Wan stole a kiss from his master. Their lips pressed together, then parted, tongues fighting for position. Qui-Gon knew, in the back of his mind, that they were being watched. He didn't care. He wanted to do this in front of everyone! He wanted to tell the entire planet that he loved his Obi-Wan, that he was loved back. The soulbond joined them in a way that could never be broken. Nothing - no one - was ever going to come between them. Whatever cares the council had about them, about the situation, whatever code ruled over a master having such a relationship with his apprentice, none of that mattered.
Stroking his padawan's cheek with almost trembling fingertips, Qui-Gon looked into the stormy eyes tracing the lines of his lips and thought he might just let himself drown in them. "Always, Padawan."
"For always, Master Qui-Gon."

Fade out
Elfin