This story is finished but as yet unbetaed. Enjoy.

Category: PWP
Feedback: Positive feedback encouraged and welcomed. Criticism also encouraged. Flames? Well, I can't see anything in this fic that would cause them, but I'm fairly flameproof anyway. To summarize: I want to hear what you think, good, bad or indifferent! :)
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17, most definitely
Summary: Qui-Gon comes back in the middle of the night and was missing his Padawan.

Notes: This is a response to a challenge given on the M_A list, lo these many months ago!
From: Joyce Harmon (jlharmon@crosslink.net)
So I was at the supermarket, looking at the magazines in the checkout stand, and I see this on the cover of Cosmopolitan. "The Bedroom Secret That Will Drive Him Wild -- and all you need is a hair scrunchy". I didn't buy the magazine, figuring that I was having a *lot* more fun imagining what the Secret was, rather than actually finding out.
But it occurred to me -- both our guys have various types of hair confinement devices, and perhaps they could figure into a Bedroom Secret to drive the other wild. It doesn't *have* to be a scrunchy, in fact, the idea of OW or QG using a scrunchy is rather disturbing to me...

Obi-Wan Kenobi woke slowly, gradually becoming aware of a wet warmth moving across his chest. Before his eyes opened, his awakening mind registered the presence of his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. He was still a bit groggy, but alertness was on its way, helped along by a shot of adrenaline as Qui-Gon's mouth found a nipple and sucked on it tenderly. Obi-Wan brought his hands up to bury them in his lover's hair, one hand stroking the long strands of silk, the other holding Qui-Gon to his chest.

He opened his eyes as Qui-Gon lifted his head slightly to glance up at him. The smoke and heat in that intense blue made him gasp. The Master's tongue trailed around his nipple one more time before he pulled up higher and captured Obi-Wan's mouth with his own. A slight lick to the lips, a mere gentle touch, and Obi-Wan easily opened to the welcome invader. The taste of Qui-Gon exploded through him, the questing tongue touching more than just his mouth. It always felt as if each touch between them delved beyond their skin and into their souls.

It was late into the night, and Obi-Wan tasted the remains of the diplomatic dinner Qui-Gon had attended...a spicy tang overlaid with a rich, sweet wine, and a honeyed dessert...none of which completely masked that delicate, well-beloved taste that was Qui-Gon himself. They remained locked together for many moments, his hands tangled in Qui-Gon's hair, Qui-Gon's hands resting on the mattress on each side of his chest, their bodies molded together.

He became gradually aware of the world beyond his lover's kiss, and felt the soft rasp of Qui-Gon's tunic against his skin. Obi-Wan pulled away gently and looked questioningly up at his Master. "How was the dinner?"

Qui-Gon practically growled, "It was ridiculous. It would have been boring...except that I found out why you hadn't been invited. The Contessa wanted my attentions for herself. I spent all evening trying to get her to leave me alone without being explicitly insulting." He leaned in and nipped Obi-Wan's neck before continuing, "She wouldn't keep her hands off of me, and all I could think of was getting away from her." Another kiss and Qui-Gon sucked on his shoulder for a moment. "Getting back here to you."

Obi-Wan chuckled and grinned impishly as he slid his hands down to Qui-Gon's waist. "Was she that bad?" He reached for the clasp on the other's utility belt and found his hands pinned suddenly at his sides, and his lover emitted a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

His smile only grew as Qui-Gon hissed, "She was very...forward." His mouth was captured fiercely, and his Master squeezed his wrists before letting them go, a signal to leave them where they were. His breath caught in his chest when Qui-Gon lifted his head and those normally sparkling eyes sizzled, possibilities dancing in the air between them. He added, "She had some very explicit suggestions that I'm looking forward to...sharing with you."

Qui-Gon moved swiftly then; before Obi-Wan could realize where his Master was headed, his beginning erection was captured in the urgent caress of Qui-Gon's mouth. Fingers scraped lightly against his sac, moist heat engulfed him, as Qui-Gon set an insistent rhythm, his tongue dancing up the length of his shaft, circling the head seductively, then taking in his length, sucking hard, only to pull back and begin the cycle again.

Obi-Wan thrust instinctively up, trying desperately to increase the sensation. Immediately the touch he craved was gone and he couldn't stop the cry of loss that escaped from his throat. He glared at Qui-Gon in frustration only to find a look of heat-forged steel shooting back at him.

"Hold still."

He felt the fire curling deep inside him from the look, the missing touch, the rasp of his lover's voice...they combined, joined, burning inside him, and he couldn't speak. He nodded submissively, and was rewarded instantly as Qui-Gon descended on him again, that tongue igniting blazing trails along his length. He quickly found himself at the edge, balanced on the precipice, ready to fall with the next touch, the next movement, oh gods...

He wailed as Qui-Gon stopped, a hand squeezing at the base of his erection, holding back the fire, holding back the fury. As he caught his breath, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see his love reach up and pull his hair out of its confinement. Qui-Gon looked every bit the warrior Obi-Wan knew him to be, his fierce beauty only enhanced by the strands of hair cascading around his face. He gasped as Qui-Gon trailed the black leather strap from his hair across his shaft, tantalizing, fleeting touches up and down his length. He closed his eyes and concentrated on trying not to thrust against that ephemeral contact. His eyes shot open again as Qui-Gon wrapped the strap tightly around the base of his erection. He looked down to watch as the leather was tied in a secure slip knot that wouldn't loosen but could be released with one pull. Qui-Gon looked back up at him then, and Obi-Wan smiled, the flames within him stoked by the incredibly predatory sheen in his lover's eyes.

A feather-touch of fingers across his chest, then, and Qui-Gon sat up, straddling Obi-Wan's body just below his groin, so that their erections weren't quite touching. Obi-Wan could feel heat, though, and closed his eyes in desperate longing.

"Open your eyes." Qui-Gon's voice purred, a combination of passionate promise and threatening.

Obi-Wan's eyelids flew up, and he held his breath as he waited to see what his Master would do next. Qui-Gon's eyes held his gaze, demanding his attention, his submission...in one look, Qui-Gon demanded everything he could give, and with one look, Obi-Wan gave it to him.

Qui-Gon's hands were moving, then, and Obi-Wan watched as he removed his belt and sash, setting them down slowly on the shelf beside the bed. The loosed tunics fell open and his eyes were drawn to that tantalizing strip of skin barely displayed. He licked his lips and grasped the bedsheet beneath his fingers, resisting the desperate desire to touch, to stroke that golden skin with its fine dusting of dark hair.

Obi-Wan watched, as ordered, as his Master pulled off his outer tunic and folded it slowly, adding it to the items on the shelf. He turned back to his apprentice, and Obi-Wan could feel the heat of his gaze as Qui-Gon raked his eyes up and down the length of his body. A glance so searing it felt like a burning touch stroking his skin, up his legs, across his erect rod. He watched as his Master's eyes skimmed across his stomach, making him tingle, and his nipples hardened from the force of Qui-Gon's look.

Then Qui-Gon was looking into his eyes and he shivered, mesmerized, as his Master slowly lowered himself toward him. He stroked his hands up Obi-Wan's stomach, passing lightly over the path his eyes had taken, a gentle whisper of a touch that made him breathless, wanting more, wanting Qui-Gon to truly touch him and stop this tease. He groaned as the hands crossed his nipples, not pausing, not caressing as he longed for, just stroking across them on their way up his body.

Qui-Gon's hands continued, stroking up the sides of his neck and brushing across his cheeks before settling onto the mattress to each side of his head. His eyes finished their survey of Obi-Wan's body and Obi-Wan was locked into the heat of that stare as it settled on his face, and into his eyes. The slight smile on his face didn't detract from the look of intense focus, but let Obi-Wan know that his Master was fully aware of the reaction his actions were causing.

"What do you want, Obi-Wan?" The whispered words slid like velvet across his mind, but he was already on fire. He could think no farther than the heat burning in the blue eyes that trapped his own.

"You. You, Master." Obi-Wan held himself still, begging silently for his Master to do something, anything, only touch him. "Let me feel you, please."

Slowly, Qui-Gon moved, his lower body pressing firmly against Obi-Wan, bringing a hiss of satisfaction from the younger man. He drew his face down, his tongue reaching out and tracing the mouth that had pleaded so nicely for his touch. Obi-Wan parted his lips and the touch was no longer tentative but passionate, the tongue invading swiftly and completely, devouring him. The open tunic caressed his sides gently as the soft hair on Qui-Gon's chest brushed teasingly across his chest.

A wave of lust, of intense desire, rolled across their bond and flooded through his mind. The love they shared supported it, wrapped around every tendril, inextricably woven between them, and the passion that rode it drove whimpers from his throat and he slid his hands up against Qui-Gon's hot skin, under the remaining tunic and across his back, pulling him down, wanting him as close as was possible. Closer. His hips thrust up against his lover, seeking the touch, the friction of his love's body against his own.

Qui-Gon pushed himself up and Obi-Wan tried frantically to hold him down, hold him close, but he drew away slowly, inexorably. "Qui-Gon!" he cried, but when he looked up into his Master's face, he saw disapproval mixed with a palpable sense of hunger. He realized, then, what he'd done, and blushed, dropping his hands quickly to his sides. He lowered his eyes as well, as his Master drew himself back up to sitting, though his still-clothed crotch remained resting against Obi-Wan's. His Master did not leave him completely untouched. He waited, his heart racing, deliciously anticipating what his love might do as "punishment" for his disobedience.

Qui-Gon growled softly, with hidden steel in his voice, "Whom do you belong to?"

Obi-Wan knew what he should say, what he wanted to say, but his voice was trapped by the sensations his lover's hands pulled from him as they traveled up and down his body, and only a moan escaped.

"Say it, my Padawan. Tell me now."

"You! I'm yours!" Obi-Wan cried, giving himself up completely to his Master's will.

"Yessss." He could hear the satisfaction in Qui-Gon's voice. Normally their joinings were as equals...Qui-Gon enjoyed and took pride in his Padawan's strength and independence. But sometimes they needed this, and Obi-Wan would admit with no shame that it was erotically satisfying to simply submit himself to his Master's touch, his desire, knowing that his lover took pleasure in seeing that strength willingly yielded to him.

He kept his eyes partially shut as Qui-Gon stroked his hands up his sides, then pushed his arms over his head, continuing the touch up their underside. The warmth of his lover's fingers sent tingles of energy tracing out from everywhere they touched, and he gave himself over fully, sighing from deep within himself. Obi-Wan opened his eyes to watch as the larger man held his arms above his head in one hand, and reached back to the shelf for his sash with the other.

The twining of the sash around his wrists tickled, Qui-Gon's fingertips barely brushing his skin as he slowly pulled the material taut before tying it, Obi-Wan's arms drawn together at the wrists. He tested the bond lightly, not struggling, merely learning what freedom his Master had given. They were snug but not tight, allowing little movement but not hurting. It didn't matter, really. The material was more symbolic than anything else. They both knew he could use the Force to free himself in moments if he so desired. But he chose not to. He chose to give himself to Qui-Gon, entirely, in his body as well as in the heart his love already possessed. He relaxed completely, submitting to Qui-Gon's desires, enjoying the surrender of thought and simply feeling whatever sensation his Master chose to give.

Obi-Wan shivered as Qui-Gon licked his wrists just below the bindings, then nibbled his way back down the secured arms. He suppressed a tickle reflex as fingers skimmed up his sides, swirling the tufts of hair under his arms, moaning instead as his response to the sensation shifted and the sensuality of it inflamed his mind. Qui-Gon licked across his shoulder, then reached a spot at the base of his neck that they both knew very well...teeth sank into his skin as Qui-Gon bit down slowly, steadily, and he arched into that delicious pressure, light pain, his breath hissing in and then he held his breath, waiting, the edge building and growing, the pain increasing just a bit, a sharp tang...

Qui-Gon released and Obi-Wan's tension released with it, suddenly, unexpectedly, the flood and rush of endorphins filling his brain, his body tingling and Qui-Gon's tongue swirling patterns on the very spot he'd just released sending the whirling sensations throughout his body. Obi-Wan could think no more, only feel, only know the warmth of his lover's body pressed against his and that delicate touch of tongue swirling dizzily on the now-tender spot of his neck.

When Qui-Gon moved on to suck on his earlobe, and he became capable of thought again, though clouded still, Obi-Wan found himself wondering what suggestions, exactly, the Contessa had given to his lover.

Qui-Gon lifted his head, his blue eyes sparkling and a slight tilt to his mouth, faint amusement mixed with husky desire in his expression. "She was shocked, you know, when she retired for the evening and I refused her invitation to join her."

Hands stroked down his chest and Obi-Wan gasped as they pinched his nipples lightly, a slow rotation that made his head spin and his thoughts grow cloudy again. "Why?" he gasped out. "Surely you'd made it clear sooner..."

A deep chuckle, then, with a raspy, throaty feel that sent shivers down his spine. "Yes and no. She was damned persistent...and I kept thinking of you, touching you," Qui-Gon stroked one finger down Obi-Wan's chest toward his groin as he spoke, "everything she said, everything she wanted, I thought of you, and my body responded."

Qui-Gon bent over and sucked a nipple into his mouth, stopping his words and sending images instead to the mind of his young love. Obi-Wan gasped, his body flushing, seeing himself taking Qui-Gon into his mouth, a phantom feeling of his tongue licking down the hot steel, tasting the salty sweetness at its tip...

Yes, please. Please, Qui-Gon, let me taste you. Let me touch you! That last was sent with a thrust of his hips, emphasizing the cloth that still separated them.

Obi-Wan watched with triumphant satisfaction as Qui-Gon's head fell back at the touch of their groins together and the thought of thrusting himself into his Padawan's welcoming mouth, a soft groan escaping his Master's throat. He ached at the loss as Qui-Gon lifted away from him to remove his remaining clothes, but his eyes greedily drank in the sight of his love's body revealed to him. Burnished gold, the velvet softness of his skin glistening already with sweat and desire, the tension of restraint showing in every motion, strong muscles moving with feline grace as he dealt swiftly with his remaining clothes and leaned once more over his apprentice.

Qui-Gon's mouth took possession of his own with a sudden flare of desire, as he aligned their bodies together with the ease of long familiarity. Something in the very way his Master held himself over Obi-Wan's body spoke of possession, of control, and Qui-Gon moved just the slightest bit, stroking their erections together with the lightest of touches. A teasing, tantalizing brush of pressure that left Obi-Wan shaking with the effort to not move, to be still and give himself over to his Master's pleasure. Without relenting in the duel of their tongues, Qui-Gon reached a hand between them and traced lightly with one finger the leather hair strap he had tied around the base of Obi-Wan's shaft.

Obi-Wan broke off from the kiss then, throwing his head back in pleasure but holding the rest of his body stiff and still before the man he loved. He felt Qui-Gon's delight through their bond, his enjoyment in knowing that Obi-Wan was his, and his alone, to touch and please as he saw fit, to torment, to taste, to tease...Obi-Wan's breath quickened from the feelings emanating from his lover, and from the knowledge of belonging.

The finger trailed down the length of his erection, stroking across its tip and the drop of pearly fluid there. Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon brought that finger to his mouth, running his tongue across it and savouring the taste of his Padawan's essence. The image of his Master thrusting into his mouth flashed in Obi-Wan's mind again and he met Qui-Gon's eyes with a silent plea.

Qui-Gon smiled, and even that smile gave Obi-Wan shivers. Hungry, amused, and with a gleam of wicked anticipation, Qui-Gon crept up the length of the body lying, seemingly helpless, underneath him. He knelt over Obi-Wan's ribs, his knees bracketing the young man's upraised arms. The tip of the Master's erection trailed gleaming wetness against his lips, and his tongue darted out to taste. Qui-Gon held still as he licked lightly across the tip and around the edge of the foreskin. He wanted to draw the length in, to feel its velvet hardness in his mouth, but he waited on his Master's will.

Obi-Wan relaxed, concentrating on the moment, relinquishing any responsibility or desire for control, knowing simply that his lover would please them both before the night was through. He licked again around the end of the firm shaft, flicking his tongue across the tip until Qui-Gon inched forward, just far enough for Obi-Wan to draw the head fully into his mouth, sucking greedily and swirling his tongue around its ridge. Stretching his tongue out, he drew it up the underside of his lover's erection, watching with mischievous satisfaction as Qui-Gon tilted his head back in response. Obi-Wan could no longer see his eyes, but the bond between them purred vibrantly with pleasure.

Obi-Wan could feel the tension singing through his Master's body as his strong hands came down to caress his face, surprisingly gentle. The fingers stroked across his forehead, gliding smoothly down his cheeks before sliding back into his short hair. Qui-Gon caressed his padawan braid lightly, wrapping Obi-Wan's mind with a wash of affection and tenderness even as he wrapped the braid around his hand and held him firmly.

Opening their link fully, Obi-Wan sent back a wave of love and trust, and Qui-Gon stilled. His eyes were a deep blue, darkened with emotion and passion, as he pulled himself out of Obi-Wan's mouth and replaced it with his lips, warm and wet, his tongue dipping in to taste himself on his Padawan. Obi-Wan left himself completely open to his Master, nothing hidden from his mind, though Qui-Gon kept some shields up. It was necessary, it was the way this had to be done, if Qui-Gon were to remain in control of the evening. Obi-Wan submitted to his authority, giving himself completely to his love, trusting that Qui-Gon would never let him fall.

Qui-Gon rose from the bed, and disappeared into another room in the apartment. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and relaxed, waiting for his return patiently. He wondered just a bit what his Master had in mind...fragments of images broke through Qui-Gon's control and made him groan, stretching and testing the bonds that held his arms comfortably above his head. He could almost feel Qui-Gon's touch ghosting across his skin... He smiled, knowing that the break was as much for Qui-Gon to retain his control as anything. The pressure of the leather tied around the base of his erection reminded him that his love definitely had plans for sweet torment tonight.

Obi-Wan felt his Master's presence when he returned to the room, and opened his eyes. So beautiful, something regal in his stance, not blurred at all by his nakedness. The man was a lion among men, and if his life was a testimony of serving others, it was a willing submission, a giving of himself without ever losing that iron will. Much as Obi-Wan gave himself now. He looked with interest as Qui-Gon set a bowl and a bottle of some kind of oil on the side table, but kept silent.

Qui-Gon picked up something from the bowl, but Obi-Wan could not see what it was. His Master leaned toward his bound arms and drew a line of fiery-sharp sensation sliding across his wrist and down his forearm...no, not fiery -- cold. Fire and ice, the cold followed immediately by the warmth of Qui-Gon's tongue and lips caressing the path stung by the ice cube he held. The combination was intense, sending shivers down his body as Qui-Gon continued down his arms, sliding the ice, then soothing warmth, with the occasional nibble keeping Obi-Wan completely off balance.

The ice slid down the side of his throat and Qui-Gon first kissed, then sucked, then bit down gently. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tilted his head back, offering greater access to his Master's desires. Down his chest, and Obi-Wan arched and bit back a scream as the ice touched his already sensitive nipple. Expecting it to be followed by a kiss, he gasped when instead Qui-Gon's mouth latched onto his right nipple, the ice continuing to trace lazy patterns around and across the left one. The contrast between the warmth on one and the cold on the other was surprisingly erotic, and he found himself unable to decide whether he wanted the delicious torture to stop or continue indefinitely.

He moaned despairingly as Qui-Gon paused to get another piece of ice, and then the touches moved on, trailing down his abdomen, the muscles clenched tightly in reaction to the cold, despite the contrasting warmth following it. His Master passed tantalizingly close to his erection, his breath blowing warmly across it, but not touching, and continued down his left leg. The haunting, chilling caress slid lazily down the front of his thigh, sketching lightly around his knee and then sliding back up the inner thigh. Obi-Wan shivered as both the ice and Qui-Gon's mouth came ever-so-slowly closer to his rigid erection.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The cry forced its way past his throat as the ice traced gently around his erection, right against the leather which held him tight, a wonderful ache preventing the release his body was striving so desperately for. Qui-Gon drew the ice up the length of his penis, following the vein along its underside, then circled the head with it once before setting it aside and replacing it with his hot mouth. Obi-Wan could no more have stopped his instinctive thrust at that point than he could stop the sun from rising in the morning, but still his Master sucked one last time and pulled away, looking up into his lover's face with mischief and amusement in his eyes.

Qui-Gon stood up then, and Obi-Wan felt himself being lifted gently in a cradle of Force, and turned over onto his stomach. Picking up a fresh piece of ice, Qui-Gon straddled his ass, his penis laying heavy and firm against his Padawan's lower back. Again the torment began, starting with the back of his neck. Obi-Wan's mind spun as his muscles first tensed against the cold and then relaxed under the soothing warmth of his lover's kiss. His lips, his tongue, his teeth all took their turns tormenting his flesh, and Obi-Wan was hard-pressed not to writhe under the attack. His Master's mental touch was as bad: intimate, loving, as enticing to his heart and soul as his fingers and mouth were to his body, overwhelming his mind with waves of love and lust sent across their link, his mental embrace at once demanding and delicate.

The caress continued down his back, Qui-Gon sliding down his body as the ice sketched circles at the base of his spine. Then the ice was set aside as Qui-Gon traced the same path with his tongue. The tender, wet stroking combined with warm breath and the brush of his Master's hair along his skin combined to both relax and inflame him at the same time. His breaths grew shorter as his lover's mouth drew closer to his cleft, the muscles in his ass tightening instinctively.

Qui-Gon's hands stroked gently, lovingly over his cheeks and Obi-Wan let out a long, slow breath, and relaxed purposefully. When a single finger stroked down and across his opening, he sucked in a breath, then consciously regulated his breathing, calming himself, everything focused on his breath, and Qui-Gon's touch, which was languidly tracing circles around his entrance, while his other hand held one cheek open.

A low groan escaped Obi-Wan’s throat as he felt his lover’s breath across his ass, but the only motion he allowed himself was the clenching of his fists as the tongue that had been so lovingly tormenting him slid down his cleft and circled the opening to his body. The rough burr of Qui-Gon's moustache and beard sent shivers up his body as the sensations contrasted with the smooth stroking of his tongue. His breath came in short gasps as that rough liquid velvet flowed inside him, pressing him gently open, flowing and filling him and it was not enough.

"Master!"

Yes, Obi-Wan?

"More. Please, more, touch me, fill me, please Master..." Obi-Wan held himself perfectly still, though he was acutely aware of every sensation sweeping over his body: the tingly scratching of hair on his cheeks, the fluid heat surging inside him, his own member trapped, aching, against the bed, the soft leather wrapped around its base. He wanted desperately to move, to thrust back against the invader, to stroke himself against the bed, but he gathered up everything he was feeling, every touch, every torment, his love and his lust, and pushed them across the link to his lover.

Qui-Gon's mouth left him abruptly as the Master arched up, groaning. Obi-Wan continued his mental onslaught, adding the feeling of Qui-Gon sliding into him, using the Force to gently squeeze his lover's hard length.

A gasp, then, and Obi-Wan found himself turned onto his back once again and Qui-Gon was upon him, capturing his mouth and thrusting against him, the entire length of their bodies pressed firmly together for a long moment before his Master pulled away, too soon, too soon, and Obi-Wan groaned, closing his eyes in despair. They flew open again as he felt Qui-Gon's touch, oiled skin against his ass, stroking down, closer to where he desperately wanted him to be.

"Yes, Master. Yes, please, there, please." Tension quivered in every muscle as Obi-Wan continued to obey his Master's command to be still, and he exhaled slowly as Qui-Gon's finger slid into him. He could dully feel his arms straining against his bindings, even as the sensations in the lower part of his body seemed somehow heightened. He could feel every point of contact between his body and Qui-Gon -- the hand the held so firmly to his hip, the brush of his inner leg against his Master's thigh, and most especially the single finger that slid maddeningly slowly in and out. He held back a groan and a desperate desire to demand more, but kept his shields completely open, drawing Qui-Gon's presence deep within him.

Another groan from Qui-Gon, then, and an answering one from Obi-Wan's throat as the finger withdrew, but was thankfully returned quickly with a second. He lost the ability to obey any longer as Qui-Gon stroked his two fingers into him and across his prostate. "Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan cried out as he rocked his hips, thrusting against the hand that touched him so intimately. His erection pulsed insistently against the leather tie that restrained it, and as Qui-Gon brushed against his gland one more time, Obi-Wan deliberately pushed every detail of the sensation across their link, deluging Qui-Gon's mind with the feeling of his own touch.

His Master growled, then, and Obi-Wan suddenly realized that Qui-Gon had used his free hand to oil his erection, as in one moment the stroking touch left him and instead his Master sheathed himself in Obi-Wan's waiting heat, one long, slow thrust bringing in his full length.

A pause as they adjusted, their bond flaring to fully encompass them, their minds joined as intimately as their bodies. Qui-Gon's presence wrapped around and through and in Obi-Wan as their entire being narrowed down to the connection between them. He pulled out slowly, gently, smoothly, and just as smoothly glided back into the hot channel. There was no knowing who entered and who was entered, there was only the connection, the movement, the touch and the love.

Qui-Gon reached down to release the leather tie, and whatever bit of restraint was left between them disappeared in a flash, an explosion of feeling, of being, a second and an eternity together as one. They stared into each other's eyes as they were consumed, knowing no distinction between them, their minds entwined as fully as their flesh.

It could not last. It never did. Until they joined the Force, they existed separately in separate bodies, though their minds and souls could touch, the connection must be allowed to fade, lest they forget their bodies altogether. Obi-Wan gradually felt himself fading apart from his love, feeling more completely himself and less their melded self with each passing moment. A short pang of longing, of loneliness, then he felt Qui-Gon's arms encircle him, his mental touch gently soothing.

I am not gone, my love. You are never alone.

Badger the Author!