//The sweetest perfection
To call my own
The slightest correction
Couldn't finely hone...//

Qui-Gon Jinn burned.

No amount of concentration, meditation or exercise could banish the bone-deep sensation that clung to his body, igniting reactions that had long been forced into dormancy by the strict edicts of the Code. Forbidden, prohibited, banned, it mattered not what words were used to describe it, the path he and Obi-Wan had embarked on earlier this evening was not allowed. Discovery would lead to the ruination of both of them.

Then you must make sure that this does not occur. It was his place as the elder, the Master, the teacher, to assure that his apprentice was protected -- at least in this single instance. Certainly at this stage of his life Obi-Wan needed shielding from little else. His weapons sense was higher than most field-tested knights. It was only his feel for the living Force -- or more correctly his sometimes erratic control over it and his emotions -- that remained an obstacle to his progression within the Order.

Imbued with a sense of restless energy that was totally foreign to him, Qui-Gon pushed his chair back from the console and paced the length of the room, an act that took all of fifteen seconds, considering the size of his temporary quarters. Staying in the rooms he shared with his Padawan was impossible. Physical separation had been the only solution, albeit a temporary and inadequate one.

Even now Qui-Gon felt the lick of Obi-Wan's mind against his, communicating restive need and frustration, the touch grating against his already shredded sensibilities. Lust flared and the Jedi Master sought to block the link only to find it too firmly entrenched to be totally shut off. Even after a concentrated effort the effects lingered, bringing with them a painful tightening of his body. He felt the desire to make done with all this foolishness by returning to their rooms and laying claim to that intoxicating mouth, to rip and tear until the lithe body was free from its protective covering, to plunder, to take...

Where are all your vaunted ideals now, Qui-Gon? he demanded of himself, feeling close to suffocation by the close quarters of his hastily procured sleeping space. The room was even more spartan than his own quarters; there was nothing to distract his mind from the siren's song of his need, and that of his apprentice. Too easily he could picture Obi-Wan lying on his bed, tossing from side to side in an effort to set aside the violent emotions they had engendered in each other.

The vision of his Padawan twisting on his bed, his arousal all too plainly outlined by the thin sheet, drew an answering throb of anticipation from deep within Qui-Gon. What would it feel like to be sheathed in the clinging heat of Obi-Wan's body? How would it feel to be taken to the edge by the pressure of Obi-Wan's length within him, or his mouth on him, or .. .

Another long-held restriction snapped under the pressure of unrelenting lust and Qui-Gon threw himself on the narrow bed, stripping off his sleep pants in the same motion, his hand moving unerringly to his straining erection. As he took up a hard, demanding pace, Qui-Gon reached for the newly deepened link that had formed between himself and Obi-Wan. The contact between their minds opened enough to let the younger man know what he was doing, to give him a taste of what their union would be like once the final restraints of duty and civilization were stripped away.


//The sweetest infection
Of body and mind
Sweetest injection
Of any kind//

There had never been a night so long, not in the entire history of all the worlds of the Republic.

Obi-Wan flung himself over onto his back, resisting the urge to reach between his legs and touch himself until the ache there dissipated. His restless rolling around the bed had developed a steady pattern over the last few hours. Turn to the left, stare out the window. Turn on his stomach, groan at the pressure on his aching cock, turn on his right side. Clutch the pillow and try to focus his mind on the tasks of the day which refused to arrive. Roll onto his back, kick the covers and resist the incredible, growing urge to take his cock in his hands and...

The young Jedi closed his eyes and laced his fingers tightly together beneath his head, controlling his breathing. He drew down his lust into the very small space in his brain usually reserved for purging anger and hatred.

And groaned as a sudden image of Qui-Gon leaped into his mind.

He saw his Master in the quarters he'd procured for the night, nude, a sheet twisted carelessly around his muscular legs, which were slightly spread across the bed, heels dug into the soft mattress. His Master's body shone in the dim light, a sheen of sweat glowing on him, as his hand worked mercilessly up and down...

Obi-Wan's eyes popped open, wide and desperate. His own need twitched on his belly, demanding attention. He vaulted off the bed and moved as quickly as he was able toward the shower, suddenly feeling quivers of desire like shooting pains in his hips and thighs, drawn deep from his loins...and the sensations were not his own. Carefully, he climbed into the shower and slapped his hand against the control sensor, bringing a deluge of cold water. He rested his hands and forehead against the wall as the water shocked his body, cowing it into immediate submission, and the terrible twinges of want eased in him.

_This should not be happening!_ he thought fuzzily, as images continued to press into his mind, his Master arching off the bed, small growls and shouts of pleasure echoing in an empty room. His name was on his Master's lips, a fierce sound that sent Obi-Wan further under the cascading water, back to the wall, open palms pressed against the cool tile, his heart pounding with the shared force of unconcealed passion. Qui-Gon _wanted_ him to see, wanted him to know, wanted everything... his Master was giving him a piece of the darkness of his soul, a preview of what awaited them when they joined.

Obi-Wan tried to clip off the invading thoughts, determined to pass this night without giving in to his desire. The edge would be much sharper, the need much harder and focused, if he could just stave off the building urgency, the extraordinary waves of emotion that were pulling at him like coarse tethers. He tasted the tang of his own blood and realized with some surprise he'd been biting down furiously on his lip. He tilted his head forward, dousing himself with water, lips parted, eyes closed. Silently, he made a firm promise to himself.

He would more than repay Qui-Gon for the cost of this little experiment in agony when finally they were together.


//I stop and I stare too much
Afraid that I care too much
And I hardly dare to touch
For fear that the spell would be broken//

Sleep had proven elusive, even after one of the most intense orgasms Qui-Gon could remember - definitely the most mind-shattering climax he had ever had while alone.

"What is happening to me?" The question echoed off bare walls that a short time before had borne witness to the sounds of his solitary pleasure. Swinging his legs off the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his long hair shrouding his face in a sea of shadows, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, the better to restore some kind of order to his thoughts.

A faint ghost of a chill washed over his skin, making him shudder, and it was then the Jedi Master realized how his apprentice had dealt with the situation. A cold shower -- perhaps that was the thing he needed also. If nothing else it might purge his body of the parts of his desire that remained unslaked, demanding nothing less than a total joining before they would subside.

Shower, then exercise and food. Sleep was not a necessity. Qui-Gon had survived on far less for greater periods of time, although the circumstances were indeed unique this time. After his morning meal would come a trip to the opposite side of a planet. There was a small, private resort he had visited during peace talks between two factions of a trade franchise that would be perfect for what was to come.
Plan each step out and you will stay in control of the situation. There was no room for error here, too much depended on it. One wrong look, one stray thought and the Council would become aware -- and they would not be forgiving.

Pushing his hair back out of his face, the Jedi Master rose, his long body unfolding from the low bed with the feral grace of a jungle predator that has caught scent of its mate and is preparing to enter into the hunt. Now that he had a plan of attack, Qui-Gon was able to settle his thoughts into more or less a semblance of their normal, rational state. To compartmentalize -- if only for now -- the damning need for his apprentice that had possessed him.

******

"Is the suite satisfactory?"

The question drew Qui-Gon out of his reverie. He gave the resort's proprietor a short nod that revealed nothing of the turbulent thoughts churning beneath the smooth façade of the Jedi's outer demeanor. Here outside the Temple, putting on such a front was child's play, but Qui-Gon knew that things would get much more complicated once he returned to the massive tower.

All morning the pulse of Obi-Wan's emotions had pressed against his thoughts, a steady barrage of intertwined lust, frustration and impatience that at times made the hairs on the back of the older man's neck rise due to their insistence. All morning Qui-Gon had forced himself to ignore the sensations, concentrating on the here and now instead of what was to come.

"Is there anything else you require?"

At the Jedi's negative head shake, the proprietor bowed and swept out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him and leaving Qui-Gon alone.

A soft, artificial breeze tugged at his hair, drawing his gaze to the wide windows that dominated the outside wall of the rooms. The scene projected on the forcescreen was of one of the rural planets and was rendered in exacting detail down to the sounds and scents carried on the wind.

This was good. The serenity of the setting would hopefully prove to balance the violent emotions flaring between himself and his Padawan and if not... well, the bed was at least large and sturdy enough to withstand most anything.

Qui-Gon nodded again, then went to work unpacking the small bag he had brought with him, setting the contents on the small bedside table. He had barely placed the second item on the stand when a sharp pain flared at the side of his neck, a burning sensation accompanied by a spike in the background noise from the link he shared with from Obi-Wan.

"By the Hells ..." Concern added strength to his own sending, shoving against the shields in his apprentice's mind until a hasty reassurance on Obi-Wan's part partially assuaged Qui-Gon's worry, at least as to the other man's physical state. His mental condition, however, was quite another story.

The knowledge that he had to get Obi-Wan out of the Temple -- and soon -- beat at Qui-Gon, bringing with it the gnawing sense of self-doubt concerning this course of action. If Obi-Wan had not been so adamant . . .

Putting aside the attempt to lay blame where none could be assigned, unless it was squarely on his own shoulders, the Jedi Master calmed himself with a moment's meditation and then went back to his task.

The carryall was empty and Qui-Gon was making a last inspection of the rooms to assure himself that all was in readiness when the next assault hit. Towering waves of need, vivid, erotic images that meshed with his own from the night before, a tight, almost painful pressure at his groin . . . Obi-Wan was broadcasting again with little notice or apparent concern that his emotions had overrun the tight band of their private connection and had spilled out onto a broader spectrum that anyone attuned to the Force could feel.

The lust spiraled into a tight knot that begged for a single touch to be released. The fine lines around Qui- Gon's eyes deepened as he fought the temptation by striding out of the room, stalking toward his transport and slamming it into gear, rocketing back toward the central part of the city and his apprentice. A lesson in control was indeed in order.



On to Part Two

Back to Star Wars fic

destinaf@yahoo.com
destinaf@hotmail.com