Archive: yes
Archive Date: February 2, 2000
Author's Webpage: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/
Category: First Time
Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm
Feedback: Yes, please -any and all feedback is always appreciated
Notes: I wrote this back in September for a zine which is unfortunately not going to be produced (gee that sounds familiar this morning). This is one of my first Q/O fics. I'm *still* not happy with the title.
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan get some down time on Coruscant.

"Goodnight, old friend."

Qui-Gon returned the farewell, watching the door slide to a close as Mace disappeared into his quarters. Turning, Qui-Gon let a faint smile hover on his lips as he slowly made his way through the softly lit halls to his own rooms. It had been too long since he'd had a chance to visit with his peers. Too long for Obi-Wan too and Qui-Gon was glad he had been able to give his padawan the evening to himself. Mission after mission had fallen on their shoulders, leaving them both little time for relaxation. Obi-Wan had been enthusiastically grateful for the time off.

It had been short notice, but by the time he himself was on his way out the door for a small gathering of Masters hosted by Mace, the first of Obi-Wan's friends were arriving. Qui-Gon had decided to make a late night of it in order to give Obi-Wan more privacy with his friends, but he had stayed even longer than he had planned and the halls were now deserted. He and Mace had spent several hours after the others had left, reminiscing and drinking cold jungle java juice, which Qui-Gon hated but had accepted in an effort to stave off the hangover he knew was coming.

Mace had served authentic Danoyian liquor, urging the friends gathered in his quarters to relax. "We aren't on duty now," he'd dryly admonished. The potent liquor had burned down Qui-Gon's throat, plunging into his belly and starting a warm tingle radiating out from his abdomen. The sensation had not been unpleasant, though it promised retribution in the morning. Even so he'd let Mace press a second and then a third glass on him. Several of the others had left on less than steady feet and Qui- Gon was pleased to note that he had managed to avoid that fate - his gait was unimpeded.

He arrived at his quarters and slid quietly into the rooms, pleased to find that the impromptu padawan party had already broken up. The lights were at their lowest setting and Obi-Wan was asleep, curled up on the couch instead of in his bed, his robe thrown over his body for warmth. Qui-Gon ignored the part of him that was pleased that the young man hadn't taken any of his friends to bed and sat down next to the dozing lad. A gentle shake of Obi-Wan's shoulders had the young man blinking sleepily up at him.

"Master," said Obi-Wan as he uncurled from his corner of the couch.

"Padawan," replied Qui-Gon, smiling as Obi-Wan knuckled his eyes, an old habit from his childhood he'd never quite managed to break. They sat together silently for awhile, Obi-Wan almost falling back to sleep before Qui-Gon broke the silence.

"Why are you still up?"

"Master Ylany picked Treena up on his way back to their quarters from Mace's, so I thought you would be along shortly."

"Oh? You had a question for me?"

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan pushed himself into a sitting position, pulling his heels up underneath himself, and waited until Qui-Gon made a sweeping motion with his hand, before continuing. "Branshe said that Master Nargill told her that you and Mace and Ylany used to get into all sorts of trouble."

"That isn't a question," said Qui-Gon, wondering exactly what tale of his younger days had been paraded out for amusement.

"No, I know it's not. But she said that her Master told her that one day Master Yoda found the three of you levitating over the railing of the High Garden rails, trying to outdo each other in your dives towards the ground."

I'm going to have to have a talk with Nargill, Qui-Gon thought. On the other hand, he and his peers had "cut loose" themselves this evening, telling tales about their padawans - laughing and chortling and behaving in a manner they didn't really want their apprentices to know about. The very thing Obi-Wan was now staring at him in wide disbelief at the thought of.

"You must remember that gossip is most often exaggerated, though I do have to admit that in this case it is more accurate than not as Master Nargill was herself a member of our cheerleading team. I believe she got into as much trouble for egging us on as we did for actually performing the stunt."

"You and Master Mace were diving off the High Garden and using the Force to catch yourselves before hitting the bottom?" Obi-Wan's eyes seemed very large, very round and very dark in the low light. Qui-Gon imagined that this was how the young man would look in passion and for a moment wished it was so, before quelling his desire.

"I suppose that sums it up as well as anything will."

"I don't believe you," Obi-Wan said flat-out.

"Come now, Padawan, Jedi Masters do not lie."

"No? They don't," the young man paused, waved circles in the air with one hand before dropping it like a stone to his thigh and continuing, "either."

"I am not sure," Qui-Gon said slowly, "whether to be pleased or insulted at the image you have of myself. On the one hand, I have worked very hard at cultivating a rather serious demeanour, on the other, surely you don't see me as old and stodgy and joyless as that."

"You have no idea how I see you," Obi-Wan murmured indistinctly.

"I was young once myself," Qui-Gon informed his padawan with as much dignity as possible, deliberately ignoring the renewed desire that Obi-Wan's ambiguous comment prompted.

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon could hear the "but" in Obi-Wan's voice and he remained quiet, face impassive as he watched his apprentice try to contain his words. Obi-Wan lasted no more than a minute before blurting out "but you manipulated the Force for fun!"

"You seem to be implying that this is wrong."

"It isn't." It wasn't a question, but Obi-Wan didn't sound convinced.

"I was hurting no one."

"I'm sure that Master Yoda has a maxim about how fun leads to the dark side," said Obi-Wan. "You know fun leads to humour, humour leads to puns, puns lead to heckling, heckling leads to the dark side."

Qui-Gon chuckled, letting himself be distracted for a moment in Obi-Wan's smile, before addressing the real concern behind his padawan's joke.

"Obi-Wan, do you really believe the Force to be such a joyless thing? Because if that is what I have taught you then I am truly sorry."

"But Master, 'there is no emotion, only peace'. I have always thought my emotions to be lapses."

"Emotions are not wrong, my young Padawan. It is what you do with them that counts." He watched as Obi-Wan contemplated his words. His padawan worried his lower lip between his teeth and Qui-Gon had to bank down his desire once again. He decided that it would be best if he removed himself from temptation, but before he could stand, Obi-Wan turned smoky eyes upon him and asked very softly;

"What about spontaneity?"

Qui-Gon's body jerked as the desire for his padawan surged through him once more, refusing this time to be quelled. He felt light- headed. He wasn't sure if his knees were going to hold him up and his body trembled from the inside out.

Time seemed to slow as Obi-Wan leaned forward. Qui-Gon watched as his padawan's eyelids slowly dropped, hiding the darkened orbs from view. He watched as Obi-Wan's tongue came out to lick along the red, swollen lower lip as his face moved ever closer to Qui- Gon's.

I should stop him, Qui-Gon thought. Then Obi-Wan's lips were on his and all thoughts fled his mind as time careened forward again at a breakneck pace. Obi-Wan's first tentative touch became firm and he was suddenly devouring Qui-Gon's lips, pushing into his mouth and tangling with his tongue. Qui-Gon felt the younger man's hands, hot and insistent, pulling at his tunics, trying to burrow underneath them to reach flesh. He realised his own hands had risen, one cupping Obi-Wan's neck, the other raking through the short hair, Obi-Wan's thin padawan braid wrapped possessively around his fingers.

Pushing Obi-Wan back into the couch, Qui-Gon half-reclined over the younger man as they continued to kiss. He had never tasted anything as sweet as Obi-Wan's tongue. With a moan, he pressed his own tongue into Obi-Wan's mouth, hands moving down to push the younger man's tunics aside. His hands were trembling with his haste. He'd never felt so out of control. No doubt it was a result of his relaxed evening with the other Masters, not to mention one too many cups of liquor.

He froze at that.

And is that what you are going to tell him in the morning? Qui- Gon asked himself, that you were out of control? Nice.

"Stop" he growled as he pulled away from Obi-Wan's sweet mouth. "Stop."

"What?" Obi-Wan sounded surprised and hurt, confused. He looked up at Qui-Gon, the hurt in his voice reflected there, replacing the passion.

"Control, Padawan," Qui-Gon gasped as he sat back up, straightening Obi-Wan's clothing before tending to his own.

"What? Lessons? Here, now? Do you never let go, Master? Was Nargill's tale just that - a tale?" Obi-Wan's voice accused him, but Qui-Gon did not relent, standing to remove himself from temptation.

"I don't want you to believe that I did this in a loss of control, that I let passion overwhelm me."

"I don't understand, Master" Obi-Wan said miserably, shoulders slumping despondently.

Qui-Gon knelt down before the younger man, grasping him by the arms and pulling him upright. One hand gripped the strong chin and reluctant eyes looked up into his face.

"I love you, Obi-Wan."

"And I love you, too, Master," Obi-Wan replied earnestly, though he looked more confused than ever.

"Making love is a choice, my young Padawan, not something to fall into or do on a whim or because you are drunk or feeling spontaneous."

"Oh." Qui-Gon could see the intelligence flash into high gear behind Obi-Wan's intense eyes. And then he smiled and Qui-Gon knew he was lost. "I choose to make love with you, Master."

"And I choose you," replied Qui-Gon, smiling and slowly bringing their lips together once again.

This time the kiss was gentle, exploratory. It whispered of love instead of shouting out lust. Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, drawing the younger man down to the floor with him as the kiss deepened, lust now joining with the love. He rolled them away from the couch, stopping when Obi-Wan was again on top of him. He spread his legs, feeling Obi-Wan's body slide between them, bringing their groins together and Qui-Gon couldn't stop the small buck of his hips.

Obi-Wan moaned and began to trail his tongue along Qui-Gon's neck, hands moving to explore his face with gentle fingertip kisses. Obi-Wan pressed down into him and Qui-Gon wished fervently that they were wearing less clothing. He thought to do something about it but found himself grabbing Obi-Wan's buttocks and pressing their cloth-covered erections together instead. Obi-Wan's explorations were brought up short by Qui-Gon's tunic and the young man awkwardly tried to raise himself, pushing at the cloth. Qui-Gon let him fumble for awhile, enjoying the feel of hot hands pushing at the cloth to get to flesh, his own hands still pressing Obi-Wan's groin to his own.

Obi-Wan suddenly reared back, giving himself room to work in, and pulled open Qui-Gon's sash. He somehow managed to push the layers of Qui-Gon's tunics apart while simultaneously shrugging off his own. Qui-Gon raised his hands to explore the newly exposed flesh, hands travelling over rippling muscles, while Obi-Wan worked at undoing their leggings and pushing them down to their boots.

Obi-Wan lowered himself back onto Qui-Gon with a moan. The older man rolled them over once more, winding up on top this time. Obi- Wan's body was soft and hot beneath his own. His flesh was alive with gentle shadows, thrown there by the soft lighting. Obi-Wan's hips bucked beneath his and with a growl, Qui-Gon began to meet their demand.

"No!" Qui-Gon froze at the cry, rising on his elbows and knees. But Obi-Wan was pushing his body up, trying to make contact with him again. "No," Obi-Wan repeated, more calmly this time. "Please, not like this, I want you in me."

Qui-Gon shuddered as the meaning of Obi-Wan's words penetrated. He ran a gentle hand down his padawan's flank.

"Are you sure, my love?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's eyes never left his as the younger man slid from beneath him and stood, holding his hand out to Qui-Gon.

"Yes, please," he said softly as he began to walk backwards towards Qui-Gon's chamber. Shrugging out of the tunics that hung loosely from his shoulders, Qui-Gon followed, mesmerised by his young lover; the sure, unfaltering steps, the concave belly, the sway of hips, the braid snaking down from behind his ear and swinging gently across his chest. Obi-Wan moved steadily towards the bed where he sat and pulled his boots and pants from his legs. He climbed into Qui-Gon's bed and placed his head on his arms, knees raised, buttocks high in the air.

The only light in the room spilled in through the door from the sitting room, but Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan's enticing body quite clearly. He stood, just staring until Obi-Wan arched his back pushing up onto his elbows and rocking slightly.

"Qui-Gon." It wasn't quite a question or a plea, nor an order. It was a soft, breathless wanting and it nudged Qui-Gon into movement. He headed towards his dresser, discarding his own boots and leggings as he went. All masterly dignity was thrown to the winds as he fumbled through the drawers of his dresser, looking for the small vial of oil he knew was there...somewhere. With a growl of triumph he pulled it from the middle drawer.

Returning to Obi-Wan's side, he slid into place behind the younger man, pushing Obi-Wan's legs further apart with his knees. Obi-Wan rocked back, ass nudging Qui-Gon's shaft and both men gasped at the contact. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon made a great effort to slow things down, to take his time, but as he watched his finger disappear into Obi-Wan's willing body, he was lost. Trembling, he pushed a second digit into Obi-Wan, scissoring it rapidly.

Qui-Gon pulled out his fingers and leaned over to place a kiss where neck met shoulder. Obi-Wan's skin gleamed palely against the earth-brown sheet, an alabaster vessel waiting to be filled. He turned his head, eyes gleaming up at Qui-Gon, black with need.

"Oh my love," Qui-Gon whispered, barely able to hear his own voice over Obi-Wan's panting. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he pressed the head of his hardness against Obi-Wan's opening. The rich smell of his lover's body filled him; sweet, male musk and the earthy roll of the sandalwood from the oil.

Obi-Wan moved again -a mute plea.

Qui-Gon pushed, his phallus breaching the tight muscle. Obi-Wan moaned and pushed wantonly back towards him, urging him in deeper, faster. Qui-Gon followed his urgings blindly, hands grasping Obi- Wan's hips and bringing him back as he began to thrust. Obi-Wan opened to him, their minds and spirits merging along with their bodies and Qui-Gon shook under the power of their joining. With a final thrust he cried out Obi-Wan's name, body dropping onto the younger man's, feeling as though they were soaring together high above the temple.

He seemed to sink slowly back into himself and he rolled over to the side, pulling regretfully out of Obi-Wan's body. Their limbs tangled together as they settled side by side.

"Master." His padawan's voice was rich and husky, an audible caress.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"I feel like I've been diving from the High Garden rails."

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