.                      Bonds of Choice #3
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 2 of 2)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


When Obi-Wan awoke it took him a long moment to recognize Qui-Gon's rooms. 
It wasn't the spare room, where he sometimes slept when training and
lessons ran far into the night.  Qui-Gon's bed, then.  "Master?"

"Oh, good.  You're awake.  Hungry?"  Qui-Gon came in with a meat pie and a
tall glass of juice.

"You don't have to take care of me, Master.  I'm fine," Obi-Wan was quite
embarrassed to have been so much trouble of late.

"I have direct orders from J'kata not to let you out of my sight for at
least two days.  You've had a very bad injury, you need looking after.  You
will lay there and take it.  I will not require that you like it, but you
will rest, you will recuperate.  When you are well, we will begin the
R'Antha, per your request.  Until then, I will look after you to my heart's
content and demonstrate the R'Antha until you can quote it from memory. 
Understood?"  Qui-Gon's tone brooked no argument.

"Yes, Master."  What else could Obi-Wan say?  Inwardly he made an oath to
perfect the R'Antha faster than any Padawan had before, to make up for the
problems he had caused his master.

Qui-Gon was true to his word.  All day long, Obi-Wan's sum activities
included eating, sleeping and watching his master go through the
complicated first section of the R'Antha.  It was not a combat discipline,
but a modified dance that had been taught at the Temple for centuries. 
Many of its parts had been further modified into true combat disciplines
and it's influence showed in every move of all those who had made a serious
study of it.  Qui-Gon was one of those students.

The flow of cloth and body was mesmerizing.  Obi-Wan recognized the
undulations, isolations and walks from balance and movement exercises he
already knew.  But for the most part, he was amazed by the way his master
could move.  He already knew the merits of being able to move his chest
three inches backwards, but what in the hell was the point of ... well, he
could think of uses for that, too.

"Master, how long would it take to perform the whole R'Antha?" Obi-Wan
asked.

Qui-Gon paced back and forth across the room to cool down.  "I think the
last time I did, it took about six hours.  Maybe longer.  When done
correctly, time becomes ... less meaningful."

Obi-Wan nodded.  "Who was your partner?'

"Well, Master Windu was my partner, although if you ask him he'd say he
shouldn't have.  I'm going to get a shower.  Do you need anything?"

Obi-Wan shook his head no and lay back to digest this information. 
"Master, if the R'Antha influences so much of the Jedi training, why
doesn't anyone else know it?"

Qui-Gon laughed.  "It's influence is not THAT great, Obi-Wan.  Besides,
there aren't that many who have the time or interest to learn something as
impractical as a dance.  I learned it after ... I'm going to get that
shower, Koatel.  Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"No, Master, I'm fine.  Go bathe." Obi-Wan knew what his master had started
to say.  He had learned the R'Antha after a certain unspoken-about
apprentice had done, well, the unspeakable.  Perhaps if Obi-Wan did really,
really well, he could do something to erase the memories associated with
the dance.

By the time Qui-Gon was out of the shower, Obi-Wan had decided he needed a
wash, himself.  They had given him a bath, sort of, at the infirmary, but
his skin still felt tacky from the blood and sweat.  He put his feet out of
the bed and was leaning forward when Qui-Gon shouted.  "Back in bed,
Padawan!  I'll come help you to the bath in a moment."

"How do you DO that?"  Obi-Wan called, laying back down.

"The ways of the Force are many and wondrous, Padawan.  Plus, I saw you in
the mirror."  Qui-Gon came and helped Obi-Wan up.

With the stress of standing and breathing at the same time, Obi-Wan was
glad to have his master's strong arms around him.  His cheeks flushed with
more than just exertion, but he could tell his physical condition was far
from ready to engage in any of the interesting ideas that came to mind. 
Walking drove those thoughts to the bottom of his priority list.  "I forgot
how crappy it feels to be bruised from shoulder to hip," he said.

"It'll be gone by tomorrow night, I promise."  Qui-Gon reassured him.

"Goody.  Then I can get sore practicing some ancient dance that nobody
knows anymore.  How long does it usually take for a Padawan to learn the
R'Antha?" Obi-Wan felt grumpy and didn't care who knew it.

Qui-Gon just looked at him.

"What?'

"Padawans are not taught the R'Antha.  Not all of it anyway."  Qui-Gon
explained.

"Why not?"

"Because, my dear Padawan, by the time you have lived long enough to put
enough free time into it, you will be at least a Knight.  I was a Master
before I learned the final section."  Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan under the
spray.  "Just stand there, I'll do the rest."

"I think we've done this before,"  Obi-Wan chuckled, thinking of the last
time he was in Qui-Gon's shower.  Was that really just two days ago?

"I think this will be very slightly different.  You won't end up on your
butt, for one thing."  Qui-Gon was soaping Obi-Wan's back.  "Try to think
... boring thoughts."

Obi-Wan was having no trouble with that.  Every muscle seemed to be
clamoring for attention and there were far too many of them.  "Please,
Master, not so hard."

Qui-Gon eased up.  "Keep your eyes closed, Koateleu.  Just relax."  His
touch was only as firm as it needed to be to get the job done.  "Turn."

Obi-Wan leaned back against the tile while Qui-Gon worked on his chest and
stomach.  "Okay, gonna need some suggestions on those boring thoughts,
Master."

Low chuckle.  "Don't worry.  I'll take care of you, Obi-Wan.  But not yet."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in time to watch his master deliver a bop to the
tip of his suddenly-interested cock.   By natural reaction, the erection
receded.  "Thanks.  I think."

"Trust me, you'll mean that later.  You'll be able to resist a lot longer
if the temptation isn't so ... obvious." Qui-Gon chose this moment to look
deep into Obi-Wan's eyes.  Their mouths met in a sweet, soft embrace that
sparked the combined emotion of the past two days.  "I was so afraid I'd
lose you.  Don't ever scare me like that again."

"You're not helping in the boring thoughts department, Master."

"You know what?  Forget that.  I'm a Jedi Master, damnit!  If I want to
make love to you, there is a way!"  Qui-Gon was vigorously toweling Obi-Wan
as he declared these words.

"Ooh, ow, ow! I'm not sure there is, Master."

"Obey and trust my judgment, Obi-Wan.  And stop calling me Master."

"Sorry, you can't have it both ways," Obi-Wan laughed.  The walk back to
the bed was slow and achy.  The laughing didn't help.

"You're probably right.  But I want you!  This is so frustrating!"  Qui-Gon
thumped his pillow for good measure.

"We could, oh I don't know ..."

"If you suggest meditation, I'm going to bop you again."

"Actually, I was thinking we could kiss until we sucked each other's lungs
out."

"You are wise beyond your years, Padawan."

As it happened, Obi-Wan was in no condition to stay awake for long.  The
make-out session, though short-lived, was as passionate and intimate as
such things can be.  When Qui-Gon realized he had a less than conscious
partner, he pulled the blankets over them both and snuggled in for sleep. 
*You'll be well tomorrow night, Padawan.  And when you are, look out.*

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

The next morning was spent in healing the last bruises and aches from
Obi-Wan's body.  The process left both Master and Apprentice tired but
pleased with the results.  They refreshed themselves with a light lunch and
made their way to the busy workout rooms.  Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan through a
warm up so slow he nearly lost patience with his teacher.

"I'm not made of glass, Master.  I was back doing full combat training the
day after I fell from the Spire, you know."

"Yes, Padawan, but last time you didn't spend the night with tubes in your
chest.  Nor did you cough up blood all over yourself, myself and half the
healers in the Temple.  A little care is in order.  Now, let us begin the
R'Antha.  Slowly."  Qui-Gon grinned slightly and took his place next to
Obi-Wan.

They stood perfectly still, arms out, palms down.  Qui-Gon called the
positions and steps, walking slowly through the first section of the
dance.  When they reached the first rest, Obi-Wan was shaking at the knee.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then said "Again."

And again.  And again.  Obi-Wan was beginning to see why it took so long to
learn the damned thing.  They were only practicing the first eighth of the
first section.  There were dozens of sections.  And again.  Finally, a stop
was called.

Qui-Gon turned to him, looked him up and down, then said "I don't think we
should try this today.  Perhaps we should refine your skills in one of the
variations before we return to the R'Antha."

"Nonsense."

They turned to find Master Mace Windu had been watching them.

"You saw it, Mace.  I think I've found my student's hidden flaw.  The boy
has no rhythm." Qui-Gon was blunt in his assessment.

"Again, nonsense.  Obi-Wan, did you or did you not complete the Stone
Spiral in backrise step just three days ago?"

"Yes, Master Windu."

"I can train my own apprentice, Mace."  Qui-Gon groused.

"Just, try it again, both of you.  But listen to me, this time."  Mace sat
on the floor and began a complicated series of claps and pats on his legs.

"Oh, for ... Well, come on, Obi-Wan.  The Council will not be swayed."
Qui-Gon took his place again.  They were not yet using the usual music,
would not until Obi-Wan could walk through it well enough to suit his
master.  The walk-through was plenty challenging enough.

The first pattern was a series of crossing steps, right over left, then
slide the left out away from the body.  Left over right and slide.  Then
the more complicated downward movement, shoulders, chest, belly, pelvis,
then back to standing, curving his body to an 'S'.  This was further
complicated by the fact that his feet were not beneath him, but
off-center.  Each movement must occur exactly at the same moment as his
master's, to exactly the same line and tension.  His arms remained in long,
hopefully graceful arches, palms down, during the whole movement.  Another
set of cross-steps, and a quick pop-pop of shoulders, another cross step,
both arms over the head.  Then a long, slow extension backwards, hands
planted on the floor, one foot rising, then the other, use the Force to
arch up into a full handstand, hold, then continue the line until his feet
touched the floor, rise slowly, arms making a crossover sweep, then two
cross steps back, stopping in the exact place he had begun.

He looked to his left to see Qui-Gon smiling at him.  "Point conceded,
Master Windu.  He may learn to do it properly, yet."

"But much work will be needed.  Much.  Perhaps you were right to think of
starting him on a variation.  For now.  He was recently injured, no?"  Mace
stood and dusted himself off.

"Yes, but he's healed now." Qui-Gon ran his hands down Obi-Wan's ribcage,
double-checking.

"Hmm.  I leave you to it, then."  And with that, he was gone.

Obi-Wan took his master's hands in his own.  "Master, I think I am a little
more tired than I thought I would be."

"Let us cool down and get some dinner, then,"  Qui-Gon decided.

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

The meal was a quiet one, shared in Qui-Gon's quarters.  Afterwards,
Qui-Gon wanted to double check Obi-Wan's healing.  Obi-Wan obediently
pulled his shirts off and waited while his master went over him and inch at
a time.  No soreness, no wounds to evidence the near-death experience, just
two short pink lines of scar on his ribcage to remind him of the
occurrence.  When Qui-Gon was satisfied that the healing had gone according
to plan, he planted a kiss on each scar.

Obi-Wan shivered, feeling his nipples pucker to hard pink stones.  A soft
moan escaped his lips.

"Feeling better tonight?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good.  I want you, Koateleu, but I won't do anything to hurt you." 
Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hand and tugged him towards the bed they had so
chastely shared the night before.

"You could not hurt me, Master."  Obi-Wan followed willingly and allowed
Qui-Gon to tumble him onto the pillows.

"Let me see it in your mind.  Let me see the thought ..."  Qui-Gon reached
for his Padawan's mind.

"Ah, no, Master.  That I cannot do.  The thought is too fair and brittle to
stand the light of your gaze," Obi-Wan strengthened his shields.

Qui-Gon retreated, "is your head so full of fair thoughts?"

"Yes, Master.  All of them on you."

"And if I were to look on them, would it be possible to destroy them?" 
Qui-Gon leaned forward, tracing a long line of kisses across his brow.

"It is a sin to slay a fair thought," Obi-Wan hedged.

"I did not ask if it was a sin.  I asked if it was possible, " Qui-Gon
tugged gently on Obi-Wan's braid.

"No more questions."  They joined their mouths in a passionate embrace,
channeling all the emotion they felt in the exchange of touch and taste.

Qui-Gon rolled back, pulling Obi-Wan on top of him.  "Too many clothes," he
rasped.

Obi-Wan began pulling their tunics off, throwing them over the side of the
bed when they finally came free.  He made short work of his own pants, then
knelt to the side to remove Qui-Gon's.  His master was more than ready,
wanting him.  Obi-Wan leaned over, kissing hot sucking tastes of Qui-Gon's
chest, tormenting the hard nipples with teeth and tongue.  Qui-Gon stroked
and petted the short, soft hair, encouraging the strong attention.

Obi-Wan continued his exploration down Qui-Gon's abdomen, tasting the musky
planes of hard muscle and soft, soft skin.  He paused to dip his tongue
into his navel, surprised at how sensitive it was.  Qui-Gon gasped and
arched into that kiss, lifting himself almost completely off the bed. 
Obi-Wan plied his partner with a long teasing taste before turning to the
straining cock before him.  He ran his fingers up and down the shaft,
smoothing it's moisture from tip to base.  Obi-Wan cupped the soft flesh of
Qui-Gon's scrotum, tracing them with his thumbnail, memorizing their weight
and texture.

Obi-Wan stretched out on the bed, resting his cheek against Qui-Gon's
belly.  He kissed the tip of the cock and felt Qui-Gon's breath catch. 
Drawing the tip into his mouth, Obi-Wan listened to the hitch and resume of
Qui-Gon's respiration.  With careful breathing of his own, Obi-Wan licked
the next inch of cock, then swallowed it carefully.  And again, slowly
progressing until his nose rested against Qui-Gon's balls and his cock was
firmly seated in Obi-Wan's throat.  He closed his eyes, concentrated on his
breathing and scooped the balls up in his right hand.  Gently he caressed
them, preparing the body for a jolt of sensation.  Then with all the
control he possessed, he rippled the muscles in his throat.

Qui-Gon arched up hard this time, jerking under the unexpected squeeze and
stroke.  Now Obi-Wan began sucking in earnest, smoothly gliding over the
length of cock.  The taste and smell merged on his senses, collided with
the feel of the hard flesh within him, imprinting a memory that was totally
Qui-Gon.  He held his breath for an impossibly long time, using every scrap
of Jedi training to pleasure his master.  Tears streamed down his cheeks in
reaction to the stimulation to the throat and sinuses.  Obi-Wan sincerely
hoped Qui-Gon would not think them tears of pain.  He managed to draw a
breath before plunging back down, sucking, licking, pulling and squeezing,
trying to pour every pleasure his mouth could provide into the long, deep
embrace.

Then Qui-Gon's hands were pulling Obi-Wan up, back atop the lean frame,
pulling him tight, taking a sweet, soft kiss from the swollen lips.  "Take
me, Obi-Wan.  I want you to."

"Yes, Qui-Gon, I will," Obi-Wan whispered, grazing his teeth along
Qui-Gon's ear.  Obi-Wan reached around to undo the tie that held the hair
back, was surprised to find a thin brown ribbon instead of the leather
thong.  "What's this?"

"I don't know why I did that.  Today just seemed to want it." Qui-Gon took
the ribbon from him, placed it on the bedside table and brought back a jar
of cream.  "Take me, Obi-Wan.  Let us share this perfect moment."

Obi-Wan nodded, taking the jar.  He rolled onto his back and prepared his
own cock, knew Qui-Gon was watching as Obi-Wan's fingers smoothed the cream
into his own skin.  "How do you want to do this?"

The elder Jedi turned over onto his belly.  "Like this.  I want to feel all
of you inside me, Koatel."

"Everything I can give you," Obi-Wan promised.  He parted the muscular
buttocks and placed a long, openmouthed kiss on the puckered opening,
laving it delicately, introducing his touch in this most gentle of ways. 
He replaced his tongue with one slick finger, crooning, "Relax, I won't
hurt you.  Just relax, let me love you."

Qui-Gon did relax, opening himself fully to the sensation.  It had been so
long since he had wanted this with anyone.  He intended to enjoy every
moment of it.  Obi-Wan soon added another finger, not so much to stretch
the passage, as to enhance the sensation he gave.  "Ready?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan.  Please.  I'll beg if you want me to, but please don't make
me."  Qui-Gon's voice was thick, rasping in his throat.

"No, no begging.  Not to me.  Never to me." Obi-Wan lay himself down on top
of his ready partner.  "I can't reach you from here."

"Don't worry.  This is what I want, you on me and in me."

"Yes, Qui-Gon.  " Obi-Wan pressed the tip of his cock gently, steadily into
the willing body beneath him.  Qui-Gon opened to him with calm readiness,
moaning his pleasure into the pillows.  Obi-Wan slid his hands down
Qui-Gon's arms, twining their fingers together as he slid deep, completely
into his partner.

Obi-Wan held still, waiting for their bodies to grow accustomed to the
sensation of being fused together in this temporary way.  He let thought
go, let the moment enfold him and he began thrusting, gasping his pleasure
into Qui-Gon's hair.  Qui-Gon did not remain still under him, but pushed
back wantonly, hungrily, demanding.  Their fingers dug into each other,
until white, bloodless imprints stood out against the skin.  Obi-Wan slid
his knees down onto the bed, anchoring himself for stronger thrusts.  His
skin was slick now with the sweat of desire and exertion.  His belly
slapped loudly against the hungry body as it arched up, pushed closer,
wanting more contact, more touch.  Obi-Wan provided easily, kissing and
sucking along the muscular shoulders and back, moaning at the flavor of
lust he found there.  The taste and feel, scent and sight were almost
overwhelming.

Then Qui-Gon lifted his face from the pillows, moaning, "Obi-Wan, love me,
please.  I love you, Obi-Wan."  That sound pushed him over the edge, into
the bliss, the deep and unstoppable mind-blasting experience of orgasmic
delight.  He felt the muscles convulse around him and knew Qui-Gon was
falling too, meteoric, into that hot, white light.

He lay still, gasping, feeling himself soften and slip free of Qui-Gon's
body.  When he gained control of his breathing, he spat the now-traditional
lock of hair from his lips.  Slowly, he rolled away, maintaining contact
with the skin as he did so.  "Enough?" he whispered.

"More than enough, Obi-Wan."  Qui-Gon bestowed another heartstopping kiss. 
He sighed once and closed his eyes, slipping into the steady rhythm of
sleep.  Obi-Wan reached out through the Force, making sure his master
stayed that way.  He slipped off the bed, fetched a spare sheet and covered
Qui-Gon's sleeping body.  Quickly, he slipped into his pants, picked up the
jar of cream from where it had fallen beside the bed and put it back on the
bedside table.  His eyes fell on the ribbon.  He paused, considering.

*It's not stealing.  It's not.  He wouldn't mind, won't mind.  I'll ask him
when he wakes up.  I'll give it back if he says to.*

Promise made, he picked the ribbon up, knelt down and knotted it around his
left ankle.  No one would see it, so no one would ask.  Standing, he
brushed one last kiss against Qui-Gon's beard.  He collected the rest of
his clothes before setting out for his own bed and sleep.