.                      Bonds of Choice #12
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 2 of 5)
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"Ah.  A fairy tale," Obi-Wan smirked.

"Hush and listen, Padawan," Qui-Gon insisted.  "Yes, back when Coruscant
was a lush and verdant forest world, I was a Padawan.  My master, whom you
have not met, took great pleasure in trying to drive me insane.  One of the
ploys used was a flat, thick, hard square of bread that found its way to my
plate every morning.  It was called journey-bread, one of the least loved
bits of unleavened hardtack known to exist.  Once consumed, it sits in the
belly like a stone, for hours, preventing hunger pains but providing little
or no satisfaction to the palate.  Every day for a year, I had
journey-bread for breakfast.  Then, one fine morning, I woke to discover a
plate of hot egg-toast and a tall glass of petala juice waiting for me. 
With the egg-toast was a selection of syrups, two of which you now see here
on the bedside table.  My master suggested that these two went best with
egg-toast, so I had them both.  I loved them both.  I have, ever since,
eaten them whenever an opportunity presents itself.  The end."

"That's it?" Obi-Wan demanded, incredulous.

"That's it.  Not everything is a grand mystery, Obi-Wan.  Some things are
just darn tasty." Qui-Gon shrugged.

"And you never found out what the whole breakfast thing was about?" Obi-Wan
pestered.

"Of course I did.  I had the good sense to eat my breakfast before asking,
but I did ask," Qui-Gon smiled.  "Turns out my master *liked*
journey-bread.  Must have had something to do with her subspecies.  Anyway,
since I had never complained, she never knew I didn't like it."

"So you had to eat something you didn't like, just because you didn't say
you wanted something else?"  Obi-Wan was aghast.

Qui-Gon smiled. "That kind of sounds like someone else I know, doesn't it?"

Obi-Wan let that pass. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Qui-Gon shrugged again.  "Why didn't you ever say you'd like to stay in
your master's quarters?  We all try to be perfect when we're Padawans, try
to hide our desires and needs from our masters because we think being Jedi
is…cold and esthetic."

"I *didn't* want to move in with you," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"And I didn't want to make you.  I'm sorry you're stuck here with me,
Obi-Wan.  I'll do my best to keep out of your way until your knighting,"
Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hand and squeezed it once.  "I always wanted you to
have your freedom and independence."

A thought suddenly occurred to Obi-Wan.  "Master, do you want me living
here with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You are what makes this place a home to me.  Your presence is a comfort to
me in my old age," Qui-Gon sighed.  "I know you aren't happy with this
situation, Koateleu, but the fact that you are here makes me…happy."

Obi-Wan turned over and lay his head on Qui-Gon's chest, considering the
words carefully.  "And the fact that I don't want to be here hurts, doesn't
it?"

"Yes, Padawan.  I wish I knew what to do, so that you would like it here
and think of it as your home.  I wish…" Qui-Gon trailed off.

"You wish your presence made this place a home for me, right?" Obi-Wan
nuzzled at the soft skin.  "You do.  I should have told you this.  I didn't
want to lose my own place, but…I'm glad I had a place to go.  I'm glad
there was someone to shelter and care for me.  I'm very glad it was you."

Qui-Gon tilted Obi-Wan's chin upwards and planted a kiss on the end of his
nose.  "Thank you, Obi-Wan.  That, too, makes me very happy.  Now, lessons
in syrup.  Sit up."

Obi-Wan obeyed and Qui-Gon sat up as well, pulling his partner to lean back
against his chest, between outspread legs.  "Okay, let's try an experiment
in stickiness."

"Sounds like fun," Obi-Wan tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Trust me, you'll like this.  And I promise not to make a total mess of
you," Qui-Gon leaned in to nuzzle and suckle along Obi-Wan's shoulders. 
"Hold your arms out."

Obi-Wan held his arms out, palms up and settled back against Qui-Gon's
chest.  "This had better be good."

""That, of course, depends on the both of us," Qui-Gon picked up one of the
syrups and poured a thin trickle along the insides of Obi-Wan's forearms. 
He repeated the process on his own arms with the other syrup then pressed
his arms down on Obi-Wan's, mixing the two.  He lifted them away and
nuzzled along Obi-Wan's earlobe.  "Now, of course, we have but to determine
which blend is the best.  I believe I'll begin by sampling some of yours."

He drew Obi-Wan's left arm up and back, within easy reach of his mouth,
then began the long process of cleaning the syrup away.  He savored the
warm flesh beneath the sweet liquid, chewing gently to sensitize the skin,
then laving along the teeth marks to soothe away any sting.  Obi-Wan's head
fell back onto Qui-Gon's shoulder and he breathed little sighs of pleasure
into Qui-Gon's hair.  There was a pool of syrup in the crook of Obi-Wan's
elbow, one which took considerable care and patience to clear away.  As
this area was slowly and delicately licked clean, Obi-Wan began twisting
ever so slightly against Qui-Gon's ministrations, once more surprised at
his master's ability to draw intense pleasure from the most unlikely of
places.  Qui-Gon dropped a final kiss upon Obi-Wan's tattoo and let his
partner's arm fall away from his lips.  "Care to try some?" Qui-Gon
suggested, offering an arm to  Obi-Wan.

"Hmmm?  Oh!  Yes, definitely," Obi-Wan snuggled more firmly against
Qui-Gon's chest and drew his arm around for cleaning.  He applied his teeth
to skin a shade more firmly than was strictly necessary and chuckled when
Qui-Gon growled against his ear.  Obi-Wan chewed and sucked the flesh from
wrist to elbow, leaving a rather conspicuous trail of red and purple
markings in his wake.  As his tongue dipped into bend of elbow, he couldn't
help but notice the Qui-Gon's firm erection nudging him in the small of his
back, a calm but insistent suggestion.  Obi-Wan released Qui-Gon's arms and
twisted around to face his partner, draped his legs over Qui-Gon's thighs
and wiggled closer until their cocks nestled between them in sensuous
contact.

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's right arm and cleaned it quickly with long, lapping
strokes of his tongue then continued the treatment up biceps, across
shoulder, into hollow of throat, along jaw and onto earlobe.  Here he
nibbled delicately, reached up to stroke Obi-Wan's hair only to find his
wrist captured and immobilized.

"You're still sticky," Obi-Wan informed him. Again those sharp, even teeth
assaulted sensitive flesh.  Again the love-bites were hard enough to leave
a pattern of bruises.  This time, Qui-Gon moaned aloud, dropping his free
hand between their bodies to encircle Obi-Wan's cock.  He squeezed and
stroked in rhythm with Obi-Wan's bites and suckles, drawing a moan or two
from the younger man as he caressed and teased the aching flesh.

Obi-Wan released Qui-Gon's arm and began a secondary assault of his own. 
Clever fingers claimed the master's turgid member, pulling roughly, slowly,
almost cruelly taunting his partner with the idea of release.  In response,
Qui-Gon's touches became even more gentle, a careful exploration of
pleasures and need.  He leaned forward, kissing Obi-Wan's mouth slowly,
allowing the tip of his tongue between lips just barely, just a hint, a
whisper of taste, then forged a path of fire between mouth and temple,
kisses of intimate tenderness.  He slid an arm around Obi-Wan's back,
rocking them gently in slow unison, whispered "This is a blessing, my
Koateleu."

Obi-Wan twisted his fingers into a handful of hair, pulling Qui-Gon more
firmly to him.  He wrapped his legs tight around the larger man's waist,
bringing their cocks together in a glittering instant of contact. 
Qui-Gon's fingers closed around them both, now, and Obi-Wan hastened to
copy his intent.  They thrust together, rocking more urgently as pleasure
cascaded through their senses.  Obi-Wan gasped out "Pantreti, strong Pan,
wait for me," and claimed Qui-Gon's mouth in a bruising kiss.

//Always and forever, my Obi-Wan// Qui-Gon sighed into his mind.

They curled together, heads resting on shoulders, arms and legs pulling and
binding them together as muscles strained to rock, thrust, press closer,
seeking more, wanting and needing more.  Obi-Wan groaned as Qui-Gon's beard
teased the ultra-sensitive skin below his ear, bucked his hips, once, twice
and let his head fall back as he shouted completion to his lover. 
Qui-Gon's arm tightened around his back as he stroked their cocks for a
moment longer, then came whispering "Obi-Wan, Koatel, Obi-Wan, love you." 
A tremor of shuddering release from the elder man and they fell, side by
side, onto the pillows.

Obi-Wan took a long moment to re-exert control over his breathing before
turning over to kiss Qui-Gon once more.  "Your sheets are sticky."

"Mmm," Qui-Gon agreed.  "And you're adding to it even as we speak."

"I'll just go get cleaned up, then," Obi-Wan smiled, hugging his lover to
him one last time.

"Mmm," Qui-Gon sighed, resigned.

Obi-Wan hurried through a quick shower and came out of the bath to find
Qui-Gon sitting at the dataset, researching.  "I'm for sleep," he said,
dropping a kiss onto Qui-Gon's head.

"Sweet dreams, Padawan,"  Qui-Gon returned, pulling Obi-Wan down for a
deeper embrace.

"All of them on you, Master," Obi-Wan promised.  

As he snuggled down between the sheets, Obi-Wan let his mind wander over
the path of conversation he and Qui-Gon had taken this night.  *Would it be
so bad, Kenobi?  I mean, living like this is just about killing you.  How
much worse could it be to let yourself love and be loved?  Especially with
someone you know you can trust…*

But the day had been long and sleep was quick in arriving.  Soon he left
all conscious thought, escaping into a dreamtime of blue eyes and soft
hair.

********************  

Morning came with sunlight again.  Somehow it didn't seem odd anymore. 
Obi-Wan crawled out of bed, did morning stretches and set about his morning
chores and exercises.  Obi-Wan meant to meditate.  He really did.  But he
had been feeding Dauhge, just watching the little guy paddle around and
something had occurred to him.  He'd grabbed his lightslate, then needed
the dataset on his desk, then opted to go for the whole shebang and moved
to Qui-Gon's better-equipped desk in the other room.  Then snatched
Qui-Gon's lightslate just to keep the notes in order.  He was
cross-referencing at quite a clip, pulling records, matching timelines and
researching reports when Qui-Gon arose bed.  The elder Jedi was walking
normally once again, with no evident loss of function.  "What are you
doing, Obi-Wan?"

"I remembered something. Well, no.  I thought about something I remembered
and it reminded me of something that happened which I had forgotten about,"
Obi-Wan rattled.  His fingers were almost a blur over the dataset, his eyes
appeared to be twitching, so fast did he file and scan. Qui-Gon looked
away. It was mildly creepy to watch anyone, even his Obi-Wan, in one of
these information feeding frenzies.  Luckily they hadn't happened often.

But when they did … Qui-Gon went to the catering unit, prepared to settle
in for the long haul.  Usually Obi-Wan saw to the upkeep of them both, but
now that was for Qui-Gon's part.  He knew that Obi-Wan wouldn't leave the
desk until his body forced him to.  He would not eat unless the food was
put before him. He might not eat unless Qui-Gon put the food in his hand
and ordered him to.  This little bout would last until Obi-Wan had the
answer he was looking for and references to back it up.  "Obi-Wan, does
this have to do with our last mission?"

"Yes. Sort of. It does, but it also has to do with what's going on now, and
something I think happened and something I did and something you didn't
know and something we might have to do pretty quickly. But I'm not sure
yet, so I just have to find a few more things. Why?"

"Just wondering how long you'd be.  Is there a free commline out of here?" 

Obi-Wan patted himself down and came up with his comm link, which he threw
to Qui-Gon. "Here." He never broke his rhythm at the dataset.

Qui-Gon caught the link, chimed for Kourt Crowe and puttered around in the
kitchen waiting on the caterer.  The trick here was to get answers without
breaking Obi-Wan's stride.  The pattern of thought was very important at
this stage.  Sometimes Qui-Gon found himself wishing Obi-Wan's potential
would hurry up and *manifest * already, so he could stop with the tiptoeing
around.  He chuckled, caught off guard by the mental image of himself at
Obi-Wan's age, hunched over a dataset, purely driven to find the
information that would bring some mystery clear in his mind.  *Patience,
Qui-Gon.  Handle with care.* "Obi-Wan, answer me in as few words as
possible. Does this have to do with the Sith or Torlamin?"

"Yes. Both. Separately"

"Do you think this might be more important than the testing we're scheduled
to do, given the bigger picture?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Let me know when you're done."

Qui-Gon set a plate of sweet rolls and slices of selthuri melon within
Obi-Wan's reach and stepped out of the room. There was a small solarium at
the end of the hall where he and Kourt usually met when they needed to
talk. Kourt was already there, seated calmly in a wicker chair, watching
the Coruscant air traffic shift and speed.  

"How far did you have to run to beat me here?" Qui-Gon asked, taking a seat
next to his friend.

"Half a wing and two levels.  Now the rumor mill will churn for days on
who's body will turn up missing.  I hope you're satisfied." Kourt grinned,
tugging at his topknot.  "What's going on?"

"Obi-Wan's in an Accessing phase. I can't bloody well stop him just for
some test that would be easily as valid a couple of days from now. And
possibly more valuable then.  He's working on the Torlamin question, which
you must agree is something we could use a little help on.  Especially
now." Qui-Gon sounded vexed.

"Yes, especially now.  Not that I think he'll find anything to save her."

"I don't think he's trying to save her. Right offhand, I'd say he's trying
to explain her."

Kourt tugged a curl thoughtfully.  "That is far more valuable than foregone
test results.  Keep an eye on him.  If he goes longer than twelve hours,
let me know. I'll pick the mother of all protocol arguments with Windu and
we'll tie the Council up for as long as it takes."

"You take more chances than even I do, old friend."

"I've always been more of a gambler than you, Quigs."  Kourt grinned.
"Besides, this is too delicate a situation to allow them a hand in.  They
might think they understand, but really… Mace might think he understands,
but he's as stiff and stodgy now as someone three times his age."

"It's not as if he doesn't do everything he can for us.  He, at least, is
sympathetic to our methods.  Maybe the ones who have trained the middle
potential students would understand …" Qui-Gon began.

"And they are far outnumbered by those of a philosophical bent, or of
purely diplomatic background, who are unsuited to giving this kind of
training, so never have.  Remember the weakness and the strength of the
High Potentials: few and far between."

"And yet there are two of them living in my quarters," Qui-Gon groused.  "I
swear, the boy has no sense of timing!  Do you know where he was when he
saw the Moment for the first time?  In the shower, of all places.  Luckily,
he also figured out to project his thoughts through the Force at the same
time.  I say 'luckily'.  Anyone could have heard him!  Not that this is a
bad thing from a developmental point of view …"

"Topic, Quigs."

"Right. Sorry. What I mean to say is that I was able to hear him and
realized what was happening.  Then that mess with Cord and that Anakin boy
happened the next day and he shut up tighter than a clam.  It took a major
trauma event to open him up again.  He just can't handle shocks at this
point.  We need to let this run its course." Qui-Gon tugged on his own
hair, wrapping it around his index finger and yanking to some inner
rhythm.  

"I agree with you totally.  And it is a serious matter.  I will help you
all I can, which includes me running interference with the Council.  Now go
keep an eye on him.  And help him this time.  Let him see what the two of
you can do together. It'll build his confidence," Kourt instructed.

"He knows he is up to the task," Qui-Gon began.

"Yes, Quigs," Kourt interrupted. "He knows his own abilities and he knows
yours.  Show him what you can accomplish as a pure team.  Show yourself,
too.  It's time for that to begin anyway.  I'm sure he's willing to accept
you as a mission partner.  I saw it in him at the lab."

Qui-Gon looked at the floor, frowning. *Work partner.  Well, at least I 
might get that to start from. *

Kourt took one of Qui-Gon's hands. "It's like that, is it?" he asked
softly.

"Did you ever doubt that it would be?" 

"No. Never.  Let him learn of it his own way, though. Painful as that may
be for you in this moment.  Be as the birdcatchers."

"Sit still and wait for him to come to me?  I'm trying. That IS my
intention.  But it is so difficult, being so calm and wise when …"

"When you want to wed, bed and keep him, now, and not necessarily in that
order?" Kourt squeezed once.  "I know."

"Well, we already did the bedding part.  But that was his idea, rest
assured.  He came to me first.  I truly thought all would naturally follow
after, but … well, we hit a few snags.  It's coming along nicely, though. 
I think we'll be all right." Qui-Gon swiped at his eyes. "I have to get
back."

"Jedi first, then Master, only after that an individual.  You knew that
when you first began having these feelings. If he does not love you, you
must continue as was planned.  If he does love you, you must continue as
planned.  It is what you must do.  You know you will do what you must."

"Yes. I will.  And my heart will break for it.  But Kourt!  If he is as we
believe, just think!  Get that stupid prophecy fulfilled and I'll have the
rest of my life to just fool around.  Perhaps my saga will have a happy
ending after all.  You know, there's room for a lot of happiness, after
Jedi and Master."

"I know.  Patience, Quigs."

"If you tell me to have patience with that skies-be-damned verse again, I
may do you a harm," Qui-Gon growled.

"Well, you wouldn't be so upset if I was wrong about it.  Just think how
long others have been patient, waiting for you to come along and be ready. 
You are the Teacher, Qui-Gon.  That comes as naturally as breathing to
you.  I'd recommend showing him the Library as soon as you can.  He's
probably ready to start the Grande Readings, which will put us one step
closer to fulfilling your work," Kourt suggested.

"I know.  Discovery, then Teaching, Learning, Reading, Enlightenment and
Instruction.  Are you sure we translated the prophecy correctly, because if
not, we're going to be in big trouble," Qui-Gon replied.  "I'm not sure the
time is right yet, for the books.  He's had the Teaching, more or less, but
there's learning yet to be done.  I want to wait a little longer."

"Are you sure?" 

Qui-Gon sighed.  "Unfortunately, yes.  You've always told me to follow my
feelings on this, let everything come naturally, and my feelings say wait. 
He needs to learn something else, something…elusive… before he's ready for
the Grande Reading.  Maybe I'll show them to him and see if it sparks
anything interesting.  Whatever it is he's supposed to teach us had better
be worth it, is all I can say."

"Just hang on long enough for Obi-Wan to do his works, then he's all
yours."  Kourt tugged a curl.  "At least you won't have to take another
Padawan unless you really want to."

"At least.  I don't think I could take much more of this.  Speaking of
trying Padawans, how is Corubia doing?" Qui-Gon turned the conversation
back on his friend.

"As well as can be expected.  No worse than what I thought would happen.  I
took her to see Torlamin.  She puked her guts up again and I put her to
bed.  I really should get back, in case she wakes up."  Kourt tugged at his
topknot again. "She made me put my hair back."

Qui-Gon laughed. "Good.  Watching you always makes me yank mine out by the
roots.  Or pluck my beard all scraggly.  Get back now. You to yours, me to
mine."

Kourt stood. "Thank you, Quigs."

"Thank you, Kourt."