Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10326575.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_Prequel_Trilogy, Star_Wars_-_All_Media_Types, Star_Wars_Episode
      I:_The_Phantom_Menace
  Relationship:
      Qui-Gon_Jinn/Obi-Wan_Kenobi
  Character:
      Qui-Gon_Jinn, Obi-Wan_Kenobi, Original_Jedi_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Sexual_Content, Unresolved_Sexual_Tension, Force_Bond_(Star
      Wars), Gray_Jedi, Tragic_Romance, Emotional_Hurt/Comfort, Emotional_Sex,
      POV_Qui-Gon_Jinn, Light_Dom/sub, Implied_Master/Padawan_Relationship(s),
      Master_&_Padawan_Relationship(s), Padawan_Obi-Wan, Angst_with_a_Happy
      Ending, Young_Obi-Wan_Kenobi, Declarations_Of_Love, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-03-16 Words: 7923
****** Crystal Skies ******
by OpaqueXApathy
Summary
     When Obi-Wan was 15 years old - his Master had given him 'the talk'.
     About how it was perfectly natural to be experiencing attractions of
     both an emotional and sexual nature. And how that fit into the Jedi
     Code (or how it was excluded and discouraged). Never mind that Qui-
     Gon knows that the bond he and Obi-Wan have is steadily deepening and
     maturing as his Padawan does. Never mind that they're already close
     to breaking from love of a deeper order. Never mind that he's nearly
     becoming attracted to his Padawan too and given a few years time, he
     might be hopelessly in love with the boy. Never mind that he already
     is.
     So nearing Obi-Wan's 17th birthday, Qui-Gon is pushed by old friends
     he shouldn't have; the elusive Gray Order. A scattering of Jedi who
     follow a code of their own, between the Light and Dark. And while
     Obi-Wan doesn't agree with their ways in the slightest, they end up
     fueling his determination. And Qui-Gon knows, just as anything else
     regarding Obi-Wan Kenobi, he doesn't stand a chance. But maybe they
     never did.
Notes
     So. This was part of a massive 30 part chapter story I posted eons
     ago. It was my most popular work, got some nods and awards in the
     fiction community, but I found it again and almost cringed myself
     into a seizure. It needed a LITTLE work. So I rewrote this portion.
     Really this was only a flashback in the whole thing. Didn't depend on
     the plot. But it was a well loved touch (by me especially). So I hope
     you enjoy it! I'm no stranger to this fandom or pairing (they're an
     OTP for sure) - but I'm finally reading the Jedi Apprentice series
     and there goes all my feels again. Up in arms. Also, since I've never
     read the Jedi Apprentice series until now - I had no idea what
     happened between them originally or their beginnings. Just the rough
     wiki outlines.
     NOTE -- Obi-Wan IS underage. He's nearly 17 in this story and I
     realize that's pushing it. Maybe not at all for some. But this author
     in no way, shape, or form supports abhorrent sexual behavior towards
     minors.
 
Coruscant
“Come Obi-Wan. We don’t want to miss the shuttle.”
The young boy, although hardly a boy and now nearing the middle portion of his
teenage years, nearly tripped over his robes as he hastened to catch up. He had
been at Qui-Gon’s heels nearly from the moment he’d been declared Qui-Gon’s
padawan. Which was a vast improvement from the depression he’d fallen into,
resigned to becoming a farmer on a planet equally as serene. Boring to a youth
of Obi-Wan’s enthusiasm at the very least, a travesty at the worst. And a
potential that would have been vastly wasted. It was a painful thing for Qui-
Gon to even consider.
It was as though the Force had put the boy right in front of him. And Qui-Gon
had gone and ignored the offering, punished as a result for ignoring the Force
and giving in to his own fears instead. His own pain and suffering after losing
his first Padawan had nearly led to Obi-Wan becoming a farmer and not the
formidable Jedi Knight that Qui-Gon knew he’d become. And if Obi-Wan hadn’t
been on that planet, if they hadn’t been thrust together in unexpected
circumstances, Qui-Gon wasn’t so sure he’d even be here now.
It had all clearly worked out as it should.
“Master where are we going? You wouldn’t tell me.”
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you.” Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan’s shoulder just in time
to prevent him from being knocked over by a particularly impatient person,
heading to the commercial flight lanes. Obi-Wan was growing into a grace that
was something to behold. Naturally, he had the reflexes of an Aldeerian. But
this was a busy time of year. And he was struggling with his new robes.
Qui-Gon caught the scowl Obi-Wan gave at the person that had nearly knocked him
over and gently caught his chin without faltering his own stride, bringing his
eyes forward. “Rude he might have been but ours is to deflect negativity. Not
to spread it further.”
“Sound like Master Yoda you do.”
Qui-Gon smiled down at Obi-Wan, sensing no malice in his tone, knowing full
well he’d taken the lesson to heart. “Because it was Master Yoda who told me
the same thing, once upon a time.”
“I can’t imagine you spreading negativity, Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was
practically affectionate. He had a warm, reverent undercurrent to his tone when
he spoke in such a way that was almost too intimate and it did all sorts of
confusing things to Qui-Gon. They’d been together as Master and Padawan nearly
a full two years now. It was approaching the twentieth month in fact. Obi-Wan
was dutiful, respectful, vastly open to learning everything that was handed to
him. They were paired perfectly, their bond marveled at despite their rocky
start. It was everything either a Master or a Padawan could strive for.
But Obi-Wan… Qui-Gon understood he was reaching sexual maturity. It was
possible for a Padawan to turn their feelings, their respect and their
affections, naturally to the person they trusted the absolute most. Qui-Gon’s
gut instinct told him that Obi-Wan would prefer men and perhaps even strictly
men. He would have to talk with him soon, about their boundaries, about the
nature of the Jedi and how it was not their place to love.
But for some reason, to add to his conflicted feelings, the thought caused Qui-
Gon to inwardly wince. If that didn’t make him feel even more staggeringly
confused.
Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan to a place to sit and he was already moving to greet
Senator Omala, bowing, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of his robes.
“Senator Omala. It will be my pleasure to escort you back to Ogradon. If you’d
have a seat, we have to move quickly. Proper introductions can be carried out
once we arrive safely on your home planet.”
“Of course.” Omala smiled warmly, returning his bow. “I trust we are in safe
hands with you, Master Jinn. My father spoke very highly of you.”
“Yes.” Qui-Gon held out his hand, watching to make sure Omala and her delegates
were securely seated. “Your father was a very wise, very great man. He left
quite an impression on me, despite my young age at the time.”
“So to, do we hope to impress you for a second time, once you reach Ogradon.”
Qui-Gon did a quick check with the pilots, reached out with the Force to make
sure nothing felt amiss, and seated himself beside Obi-Wan once he was sure
everything and everyone was secure. He hadn’t told the boy what they would be
doing because he hadn’t been able. Senator Omala was part of a tense and
unsteady peace treaty with her sister planet and an attack was feared and
imminent. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were to be dispatched to resolve the conflict.
Which shouldn’t be too difficult. Qui-Gon was accustomed to diplomatic missions
firstly. Secondly - Reethoran, sister society to Ogradon - was far more upset
than they were willing to go to war. Their reluctance, Qui-Gon was sure, he
could capitalize upon to reason that war was not the answer.
Obi-Wan was a smart boy too. He had heard enough from Qui-Gon and Senator Omala
not to ask questions, sensing that he shouldn’t, and trusting Qui-Gon to tell
him more when the timing was appropriate. For that, Qui-Gon was proud of him
and pleased.
Obi-Wan seemed to pick up on this slightly, through their bond, and shifted to
be a bit taller in his seat. He seemed to warm under the unspoken praise and
his expression became a diligently serious one, undertaking the task at hand to
his full ability.
Qui-Gon carefully kept the smile from his face, and his eyes forward.
 
Ogradon was primarily a mining planet. The crystals were seasonal. Brown to
black in the winter and vibrant pink and yellows in the summer and spring
months. But summer and spring were a fleeting thing, celebrated over a week
affair. Ogradon was in the depths of winter and all the crystals were black,
the snow thick and filled with ash. In a way, in it’s harshness, even Ogradon
was beautiful. This would be another lesson to Obi-Wan. Finding beauty where
they might not be. Finding purpose in seemingly a barren circumstance. And that
war was never the answer.
And he did as well as Qui-Gon supposed he would. Obi-Wan was attentive
throughout the entire and lengthy proceedings. When Reethoran’s chancellor
became upset enough to yell and Qui-Gon in response became as calm and as
placid as he was angry, Obi-Wan watched with intelligent eyes and a thoughtful,
careful frown. He was learning diplomacy and in all things, it was important.
Not much was accomplished the first day. Ogradon, even the nobility, believed
in enduring hardship - to harden themselves with it and to make them as
beautiful as the crystals of Ogradon. Qui-Gon and his padawan had quarters, but
they had to walk through the ash and course like snow to reach it. And by the
time they did, both were quite cold and covered in dust and white flakes that
were nearly indistinguishable from either the weather or the volcanoes. The
nobility of Ogradon always looked regal, their intricate robes stained white
and darkened by ash at the bottoms. Their elaborate make-up was tough enough to
withstand the elements and they were a tough enough race not to be bothered
with it.
Qui-Gon was certain he and Obi-Wan’s appearance wasn’t going to weather quite
so well - pun intended. But it didn’t bother him. For his health, Qui-Gon
ascertained the necessity of hygiene. But that was as far it went for him. Obi-
Wan as he became older could be particularly fussy where Qui-Gon certainly was
not but he was easing. He was enduring. He was learning to be humbled. And Qui-
Gon couldn’t be more pleased with his progress and how he was shaping out to be
a spectacular Jedi.
They removed all their clothes at the door, to keep from dragging in too much
ash and snow, the snow mostly melting in the warmth of their provided quarters.
The ceilings were high, grand, the floors heated naturally by volcanic gas. And
there was an area where they could put their clothes to be washed and cleaned
and returned to them. They would have enough time before the clothes were
returned to take care of their nightly routine. They would eat, Obi-Wan might
bathe. And they’d settle in for the night for evening lessons and meditations.
Their clothes should be returned well before all that was over.
Which was well and good. Because Qui-Gon didn’t miss the hesitant, curious
glance Obi-Wan gave in his direction. And he recognized all too well how that
gaze was turning in certain directions not approved by the Council. Or the life
of a Jedi. Qui-Gon knew he had to do something about it. Quickly. Because, with
a heavy feeling in his heart and a sense of foreboding that had nothing to do
with the Force, he was responding as Obi-Wan aged and grew more mature
physically. And meditating this away hadn’t helped. He didn’t dare admit it out
loud either.
This was only a hiccup, a perfectly normal hiccup, in his otherwise perfect
relationship with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was not Xanatos. Nothing had gone wrong with
his first padawan and nothing would go wrong with this one either. Qui-Gon
would not fail. Obi-Wan was just a maturing male. And he was having feelings
that were entirely normal.
“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said swiftly, to bring Obi-Wan’s eyes back up to his.
Maybe his tone had been a bit scolding, he hadn’t meant it to be. But Obi-Wan
hastily averted his wandering eyes. And looked ashamed.
And Qui-Gon immediately softened his tone, smiling patiently at Obi-Wan.
“Come.” he said, and nodded him into the room - sans clothes. All the better.
They both had to face this properly as Jedi and that meant meeting the problem
head on. To naturalize nudity and to not sexualize it. They were all beings of
the Force and nudity was as natural to some as the Force itself.
Qui-Gon knelt on the floor in a sandy meditation pit. It was made from the
finely course grains of crystals and was a wonderful platform in which to
meditate. Truly an experience that he was pleased to soon share with Obi-Wan.
When he’d been younger, his former master had taken him to this planet to
resolve a similar conflict. The supreme high chancellor had shown a particular
fondness towards Qui-Gon, who hadn’t been intimidated by his massive form and
badly scarred face. He’d made the crystal meditation beds for the Jedi as a
result, for whenever they stayed upon their planet. He even gave them the means
to construct them on Coruscant as well.
Obi-Wan looked concerned, as if he’d done something wrong - and he knew the
Jedi Code. Qui-Gon knew that he did. But it was the responsibility of the
Master to handle these matters. And it happened in the maturing youth. However
this was the first time that Qui-Gon had had to face it with a male that was
attracted to another male.
“To be a Jedi means to separate yourself from that which would distract us from
connecting fully with the Force.” The words soothed Qui-Gon slightly. Somehow.
“It’s perfectly normal to discover your attraction to others around your age.
It happens to everyone-”
“Did it happen to you?” Obi-Wan asked. It was slightly challenging, but also
his tone seemed desperate.
“Yes.” Qui-Gon answered honestly. “I fell in love with another Padawan, or at
least I thought it was love. But she and I both realized that it was not the
paths we were meant to take.” he pointedly ignored the way Obi-Wan seemed to
deflate a bit at the mention of the gender, or a lot, because he couldn’t - it
was too difficult to correct. He had to lean on his own training or he was
afraid, by the time that Obi-Wan reached full sexual maturity, Qui-Gon was
horrified to think of his own growing feelings in the matter. They could both
sacrifice their entire lives, lose the Jedi path. And that couldn’t happen.
“Our masters both intervened and I’m very grateful that they did. They told us
that out of all the people in the entire cosmos, we were sensitive to the
Force. We were set on a path that not many could undertake. We had a great
purpose. And that purpose required of us to be selfless. And put the needs of
others above the passions in our hearts.”
“I understand, Master.” Obi-Wan said and it was hard to see how defeated he
looked. But Qui-Gon knew that this was a process.
“Have heart, Obi-Wan. We are connected through the Force and we can love our
connection to it through each other. And what you are experiencing is perfectly
normal. Use it to strengthen your connection to the Force, and your resolve as
a Jedi. Do not be ashamed.”
Obi-Wan looked a little sad but better somehow. Far less defeated, not ashamed,
and that was what Qui-Gon wanted. It was not a shameful thing to love. It was
not a shameful thing to desire another, to want another physically and to be
wanted in turn. But it was not the way of the Jedi.
 
 
A year later, they returned to Ogradon. The planet was consumed in civil war
and strife. Chancellor Valkaran, the man who Qui-Gon had considered a good
friend, was dead. Reaching a civil agreement was hard fought. Qui-Gon suffered
injuries and so did Obi-Wan, his now sixteen, nearly seventeen year old
padawan. Fortunately not serious, the minimal injuries, the scrapes and bruises
- did little to assuage the grief of lives lost. And fallen friends.
But where all hope had apparently been lost, hope was regained anew. Horrified
by their actions, two sister planets and formerly one civilization, reunited in
the ashes of the crystals of Ogradon. More unified and stronger than ever. And
they’d accomplished it not alone, but with some assistance from a rare breed of
Jedi that no Jedi was supposed to speak of, certainly not the Council. A group
of Grays. Those between the light and the dark. Those who refused to be either.
It was forbidden to speak of them, it was shunned to talk of them if brought up
in conversation. Their ways were revoked as ‘unwise’ by the Council.
Qui-Gon greeted Master Tan’Tal like a long lost friend. Because he was one.
Long ago, crash landing on Asidion - the residing temple of the Gray Order -
Dooku had brought Qui-Gon, his then padawan, to the Grays for healing. They had
saved his life and opened his mind to what Qui-Gon could only wished he could
embrace. But like he’d told Obi-Wan a year ago now, he had to put his own
desires below the good of others. And the Force had told him that it was not
his path. Already, Qui-Gon could believe it. Because the thought of not taking
Obi-Wan as his padawan, not being there to do so and living on Asidion instead,
was very nearly a frightful one.
Tan’Tal embraced Qui-Gon instead of merely accepting his hand, laughing as he
warmly squeezed the taller Jedi with claw like hands. “Qui-Gon! Look at you, a
giant among mortals!”
Qui-Gon couldn’t help a laugh, his hand falling to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “My
padawan might agree with you.”
“So might mine.” Tan’Tal placed a hand on the shoulder of the dark haired boy
by his side, eyes so dark they were black - hair just as. He had exotic looks
for a human and Qui-Gon could already sense a strong undercurrent of energy
exuding from the boy. Powerful. But calmly so. Like a rock that could stay
stable in the middle of a river. “Var-Den, meet Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”
“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon nodded towards Tan’Tal and Var-Den, and he bowed his head
towards Ver-Den slightly. “Pleasure to meet you Ver-Den. You have a good
teacher.”
Ver-Den eyed Obi-Wan with unsure eyes, Obi-Wan outright looked almost
displeased. But Qui-Gon had been expecting as much. Obi-Wan was very much
centered in the light side of the Force. And there Qui-Gon was sure that he
would stay. Which was a beautiful thing, knowing that Qui-Gon wouldn’t lose him
to the Darker forces so long as he stayed the best mentor and teacher he
possibly could be.
“Master Qui-Gon.” Ver-Den held a hand out to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon immediately
took it, and shared a mutual bow with the boy - a custom of the Gray Jedi. To
meet on the field, respectfully, no matter what standing - as equals. It didn’t
mean disrespect. A true Gray would respect either standing in life, whether
they be learning, or teaching. And would recognize positions in life easily,
without jealousy or scorn.
Obi-Wan almost looked horrified. But Ver-Den just looked at him strangely.
And Tan’Tal just smiled. “Young Kenobi has a strong heart.” And his white eyes
blazed warmly, a spark of intuition, perhaps even a vision. “And a soul as
light a blue as the oceans of Baiel.”
Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan’s shoulder a squeeze and smiled down at his padawan
affectionately. “That he does.”
“Come. May I speak with you?” Tan’Tal asked.
Qui-Gon nodded and looked to Obi-Wan. “Send a report of the situation to the
Jedi Council. Spare no detail but keep it brief. We have celebrations to
attend.”
Obi-Wan gave a perfectly respectful, textbook bow to Qui-Gon, arms at his
sides. “Yes, Master.” And he shifted a look at Ver-Den and then turned on his
heel to leave. Qui-Gon watched him with a smile, nodding towards Tan’Tal.
“I can’t slight him, Tan’Tal. His heart and spirit are exactly as you say. And
I’m only so lucky.”
Tan’Tal nodded and strangely, he didn’t dismiss Ver-Den. “May I speak to you as
a friend? But also as one that walks two sides of the Force.”
Qui-Gon nodded. “You may.”
Tan’Tal, once they were a measured distance away from anyone that could
overhear - and with only Ver-Den standing respectfully sentry at his Master’s
side - regarded Qui-Gon with wise eyes. And Qui-Gon was momentarily struck by
the depths of them. Tan’Tal was a seer mostly, a prophet but that term was
regarded lightly. To have that gaze turned upon him now, with such knowing, was
a surprise. “You are bonded with Kenobi…”
Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably, a broken crystal shard of Ogradon crunching
beneath his boots. And with a wince, he pulled his foot away. “He’s my padawan.
We’re fortunate to have such a bond.”
“No.” Tan’Tal shook his head. “It is more than this and you know it-”
Qui-Gon opened his mouth to argue, old temper flaring to life-
“-and you know this!” Tan’Tal spoke calmly over him. “And it seems to be
happening whether you attempt to cling to your code of no emotion, no
attachments-”
“Tan’Tal.” Qui-Gon’s temper snapped. But he tried to say it as least loudly as
he could, staring down at the man and begging him to quit. No his bond with
Obi-Wan had not stopped deepening. They seemed to be attracted to each other
regardless, as if some invisible pull was steadily tethering them to each
other. As if their souls were determined to completely connect in no way that
Master or Padawan could. Worse, it felt like every time they tried to distance
from each other like any Jedi should, it felt like detaching barbs from their
hearts. And they bled.
“How do you know that it is not the way of the Force?” Tan’Tal challenged.
Qui-Gon fell quiet, suddenly realizing that they weren’t alone. Obi-Wan was
standing a measured distance away, watching them with stormy - unsure eyes.
That were almost protective. He wanted to hear what was being said, as much he
didn’t like to see that it was upsetting his Master. And Qui-Gon felt an
affection pull deep within his suddenly tired soul. A soul that seemed to ache
to do all the wrong things.
He reached up and rubbed at his forehead. “You must not speak of this.”
“You know I would not.” Tan’Tal said. “But it will be noticeable soon to your
Council. If it isn’t already.”
It was. Yoda had already given him a rather irate warning. Practically a
lashing.
Tan’Tal reached up and placed his hand over Qui-Gon’s heart. “Ease your
suffering. If it is the way of the Force, so it shall be. Perhaps you will
force the Council to grow past their own stubborn ways and to keep them from
becoming too nearsighted.”
Qui-Gon parted ways with Tan’Tal feeling sullen and bristling from unseen
injuries evoked at his words. Why was this happening? Why was such a thing
happening in the form of such a beautiful thing? It felt as though it was the
Force and the Jedi Code dictated that he embrace it. But the Jedi Code also
strictly forbade it. So where did that leave them? Adrift and in danger of
losing everything, Obi-Wan most specifically. All of his training, his bright
future as a promising Jedi. All of it could be compromised because of the
irrefutable fact that their hearts and souls refused to not love one another.
Qui-Gon barely ate. The newly appointed chancellor, Valora, even asked him if
he was ill. Obi-Wan just looked steadily more upset. But even he excused
himself with impeccable manners. And only tossed his napkin down with a bit
more force in Qui-Gon’s direction, so subtle a gesture that was so obvious to
Qui-Gon. But then, later that night, he refused tea. Outright.
He reached out, took the ornately carved tea kettle right from Qui-Gon’s hand,
and set it aside. “I spoke with the Gray Jedi-”
Qui-Gon’s temper frayed, badly and he felt desperate and cornered. “That is
forbidden-”
Obi-Wan was standing toe to toe with him and refused to be daunted by their
difference in height. “Most of what they say, I cannot comprehend. The Council
is right-”
Thank the Force. Qui-Gon thought but with a wince too.
“There cannot be a middle ground between the light and dark. The risks of
walking that close to the Darkside is too great. But I do agree with one thing
and I have meditated on this very strongly... nearly every night that you
refuse to leave my thoughts-”
“Obi-Wan-” Qui-Gon tried desperately. Sith they were standing close. And Qui-
Gon was too weak to draw himself properly apart.
“It feels as though this bond between us is being willed by the very Force
itself. It feels no different than feeling the force in the winds, in life
itself, in the very ground we stand upon. I feel it in my heart, the way I feel
it in my hands when I reach out to use it to push against something I need to
move-” Obi-Wan stepped further still, blue eyes vibrant and lips, lips tilted
up towards him. “But for all my strength I cannot move you.”
Qui-Gon did the cowardly thing, or perhaps the right thing, and promptly fled
the room. Out of their quarters, walking with long strides until he knew he
wasn’t being followed. And then he kept walking, past the ruined streets and
blasted buildings. Into the gardens and through a broken gate, blackened by
blaster fire, into a crystal valley. There were hills and bluffs here and the
crystals were damaged but turning glowing hues of pink and yellow valiantly. As
if they refused to be destroyed.
It was a painful metaphor he’d walked himself right into.
Qui-Gon paced at first, wearing tracks into the sand. And when that did nothing
he forced himself to stop and take deep breaths. It was wrong but it felt
painfully and purely right. But he couldn’t lose Obi-Wan. He could not destroy
his future. The boy, rapidly becoming a man, was barely seventeen. Obi-Wan had
not so passively aggressively declared a few months ago that on his planet -
boys his age were being arranged to be wed. And truly, Obi-Wan was becoming a
young man. But Jedi were not allowed this. And yet the Force demanded this.
Qui-Gon heard footsteps just as he’d all but given up on quieting his
unrelenting and tumultuous thoughts. And he opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan
walking towards him. And while he tread carefully, his eyes were just a little
wounded and a lot determined. And when he was within earshot, he walked further
still. Until their boots were nearly touching. “If you tell me, that within
your heart, you do not believe this is the will of the Force… I will speak no
more of this. Ever again.”
Qui-Gon opted to stay silent, his mind racing and his heart warring with it.
Obi-Wan looked up at him with pleading eyes, a love in them that ran deeply,
and passionately. “Master-”
Qui-Gon leaned down, silenced his mind, and let his heart win. He let the Force
flow through him and tell him what was right. And the moment that his lips
connected with Obi-Wan’s parted mouth - that. For whatever happened, whatever
punishment, whatever this would result in. This was right. And Qui-Gon had
never felt more connected to the Force than in this moment. And Obi-Wan gasped
in shock and desperation and pure relief, mouth parting against Qui-Gon’s lips
with a panting breath and wordlessly asking for more. His his hands had reached
up for Qui-Gon’s tunic but Qui-Gon intercepted them and took them within his
own much larger ones.
The boy’s lips were soft and supple and more so accidentally than any sort of
experience or skill, Obi-Wan’s tongue reached out and touched Qui-Gon’s bottom
lip. And Qui-Gon captured Obi-Wan’s mouth more deeply, the boy groaning and
giving back just as much. It felt like the oceans cascading into another,
deeper sea. It was overwhelming, blissfully perfect. It was everything,
everything-
They broke away with a gasp. They broke away with lungs entirely forgetting
what air was.
And their foreheads brushed and Obi-Wan, in a field of glowing crystals that
refused to die, gave Qui-Gon’s soul back. A soul he hadn’t realized had been
continuing without it’s other half. And Obi-Wan pressed a loving kiss across
his rougher beard and cheek, pressing himself into Qui-Gon’s hands, subtly
begging for more. More of which Qui-Gon could no longer deny them. “Qui-Gon.
Please-” Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan had said ‘Master’ and that he almost
hadn’t caught it. But his name was like a reawakening.
They made all haste back to their quarters. Fireworks had started, it was the
first day of celebrations and now two planets were united, but no one was
looking for them. Qui-Gon wasn’t going to process that. Both Jedi were far too
concerned with getting to each other in all ways, as quickly and as intimately
as possible, with a desperate sort of fire that might have been years in the
making.
They were kissing as soon as the door was shut. Obi-Wan surprised Qui-Gon by
pressing him right against the door and kissing the very air out of his lungs.
But he was only caught off guard a second, reaching around to capture the back
of Obi-Wan’s neck in his hand. The other and he was pulling the boy close,
right up against his stomach and chest, leaning down further to get more of his
sweet lips the warm caress of his tongue.
And with well practiced hands, they rid themselves of robes, tunics. But Qui-
Gon stopped when Obi-Wan started on his. And then he was lifting him without
thought, by the thighs, into his arms - Obi-Wan’s thighs cradled around his
hips and their groins pressed together. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan’s arousal
pressed against his stomach and moaned softly into another round of kissing
that stole his breath and robbed him of the ability to speak. Obi-Wan had his
arms around his neck and Qui-Gon instinctively moved to the crystal sand
meditation pit.
Using the Force to guide their descent, Obi-Wan’s humanoid race matured far
more slowly than most and he was still smaller than most humans but still a
growing boy nearly a man. Qui-Gon with aided strength dropped to his knees in
the sand pit and reached up to cradle his neck and head in a hand, lowering him
into the sand. And Obi-Wan was kissing him like he couldn’t get enough, body
hungry, untouched and so eager. Qui-Gon did his best to still the trembling in
his own callused hands but Obi-Wan was entirely undoing him.
And then a calm struck Qui-Gon, just like that. The Force was willing this. It
was in every step they took, every traded kiss, every touch and caress and
every loving plea for all of the same. This was right. This was the most sure
and right thing Qui-Gon had ever done. And his hands stopped shaking and he let
his fingers sink into warm sand, feeling the heightened sense of the Force
through the crystallized sand. And he gazed down at his boy, his padawan, whose
vibrant blues were staring at him with slightly swollen lips and a breathless,
wordless plea for all of Qui-Gon. All of them together, finally.
Qui-Gon leaned down and answered that call, claiming Obi-Wan’s mouth with his
own and feeling stars aline.
“We can take this slowly-” Qui-Gon breathed reassuringly in his year. “Wait
until you are ready-”
“Feel me, Master.” Obi-Wan answered against his neck, arching his hips into
Qui-Gon’s stomach subtly, pressing himself into Qui-Gon - nearly every inch.
“Feel how much I want you, need you-”
Qui-Gon’s eyes fell closed and he gave a ragged groan, but reigned in every bit
of his experience and patience. And he took Obi-Wan’s hand in his, easing it
down his body, past his stomach - and onto his own erection. Let him feel the
size of it, considerable to anyone’s standards but especially to a much smaller
Obi-Wan. And he met his eyes, Obi-Wan going a bit still in his grasp. And his
mouth had fallen open, not exactly fear in his eyes, but definitely an
understanding he hadn’t before. But typical to the boy, suddenly all that
turned to sheet determined. And a strong desire to please.
He leaned back, into the warm sand, fixing Qui-Gon with every bit of power
those blue eyes were truly capable of - and reached down to undo his obi that
bound his tunics. And all Qui-Gon could do, poised over Obi-Wan and nearly
dwarfing the boy in his shadow, was watch as Obi-Wan bared his torso and opened
his tunics for Qui-Gon to with what he wished. And Qui-Gon immediately ran his
hands over Obi-Wan’s chest, marveling at the feel - the mixture of hardening
muscle and boyish fat. And Obi-Wan’s hands covered his. “I’ll trust in the
Force, master. And in you.”
Qui-Gon wanted to argue but he didn’t have the strength.
He needed to leave Obi-Wan for lubrication but didn’t want to leave him, not in
the least bit. So he took him by the wrists, and pulled him up - and into his
arms. Into his lap, straddling his hips and his arousal, to meet him for
another kiss. Obi-Wan was giving breathy gasps of pleasure against his lips and
Qui-Gon found a knee and then stood. He kissed Obi-Wan straight to the
bathroom, momentarily pressed him up against a wall so that he could reach the
medicine compartment over the sink. And when it didn’t go easily, impatiently
he just pulled it open - promising he’d fix it later.
Urgency abated now that they had what they needed, Qui-Gon walked with an
easier pace back to the crystal sand pit. He kissed Obi-Wan leisurely, feeling
as if this was some sort of dream. To have Obi-Wan here, intimately, kissing
him. Feeling his lips upon his. To about to have him in all ways, completely.
Qui-Gon could scarcely believe how right it all really felt.
He laid Obi-Wan back into the sand and eased back on top of him and they were
both nervous. Surely. But it scarcely showed. They were just desperate to be
with each other in all the ways they’d denied up until this very point.
Qui-Gon kissed Obi-Wan with loving, languished patience, enjoying the very act
of it itself - unable to get enough. When they both couldn’t hold out any
longer however, Obi-Wan’s hands anywhere and everywhere he could reach and Qui-
Gon the same - in a more restrained fashion - Qui-Gon urged Obi-Wan onto his
stomach. He knew the mechanics. But that was mostly all. His only experience,
however minimal, was of another realm entirely.
Stripping Obi-Wan of the rest of his clothes and boots, Qui-Gon couldn’t help
but run a reverent hand down the gentle curve of a back, and then he took both
of Obi-Wan’s pert ass cheeks into both his hands. Each one he could grasp
entirely in a palm. And Obi-Wan made keening, pleading noises and breathed out
his pleasure in soft gasps, pushing his buttocks into Qui-Gon’s hands further.
And Qui-Gon, overwhelmed at the sight and feel, spread Obi-Wan’s cheeks in his
hands and squeezed - massaged. Pressed a kiss in-between his shoulders.
He was achingly hard. And Qui-Gon reached for the lube decisively.
He positioned them both on their sides, facing each other, Obi-Wan in his arms.
Qui-Gon cradled him in an arm, around his shoulders and back, the other -
fingers coated in lube - carefully found Obi-Wan’s firm behind. And he stroked
into the crack, touching Obi-Wan’s virgin entrance, untouched purely in this
intimate a fashion. Stroking it, Obi-Wan moaning quietly in his arms while
biting a lip in his teeth, begged for more with spread legs - so open and
trusting, his palms flat on his Master’s chest. And Qui-Gon was amazed at the
sight.
At the wondrous, gut clenching, dizzily arousing sight of Obi-Wan responding so
keenly under his fingers.
“Are you ready?” Qui-Gon asked, pressing gently against Obi-Wan’s entrance
briefly on a pass and stroke, the boy nodding fervently.
“Yes, Master. Please-”
“Be still for me Obi-Wan-” Qui-Gon desperately didn’t want to hurt him,
pressing a finger slowly inside, easing it past the tight ring of muscle and
the initial resistance. “That’s it-” he praised, through a groan from Obi-Wan -
high pitched and needy. And Qui-Gon stroked his finger carefully inwards and
back out, massaging his extraordinarily tight ass. Obi-Wan was grasping a hold
of Qui-Gon’s shoulders now, looking at him with pleading eyes and Qui-Gon kept
stroking until he felt sure he could add another finger.
Even his fingers were large to the far smaller Obi-Wan. The boy was certainly
distinctly feeling each added. And when the second eased into his ass beside
the first, Qui-Gon even roughly groaned. Obi-Wan had cried out but not in pain,
biting a lip and moaning encouraging around quivering hips and desperate, soft
pleas for more. More strokes of Qui-Gon’s fingers inside of him, deeper,
harder. Qui-Gon tempered each plea but fufilled his wishes. Obi-Wan was hard
and leaking against their stomachs and Qui-Gon was awestruck.
A third and Obi-Wan was gently rocking his hips now, nuzzling his face into
Qui-Gon neck and gasping quietly, nearly fucking himself on Qui-Gon’s fingers
in time with his Master’s thrusts and stretching. And Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan’s
lips on his neck, under his chin, tilted up and begging to be kissed. So Qui-
Gon found his lips and urged Obi-Wan into a deep kiss, relishing in the moan
that Obi-Wan gave around their tongues. He was practically panting and Qui-Gon
was all but lost in the sensations he was experiencing.
He desperately wanted to be inside Obi-Wan but he was also considerably larger
to the boy and was determined to make sure he was properly stretched. And that,
above all else, a minimal amount of pain was caused. Obi-Wan was a virgin. It
was unavoidable that there would be some.
“Master-” Obi-Wan’s gasped against his neck and pulled back to meet his eyes.
“I feel a pressure between my thighs, at the base of my spine. It feels as if I
might-”
Qui-Gon lovingly stroked his three, thick fingers inside of the boy and back
out again, deep strokes - reveling in the desperate look on Obi-Wan’s face, so
close to a climax, so new to all these sensations, clinging onto to Qui-Gon
with gasping breaths. And he started firmer thrusts with his fingers. “Come for
me Obi-Wan.” It would be easier, with the boy already satiated and relaxed, to
sheathe himself inside of Obi-Wan. Although at this rate, Qui-Gon was concerned
by his own stamina, given the tightness of Obi-Wan clenching around his
fingers.
Obi-Wan cried out loudly and kept crying out, reaching his climax all over Qui-
Gon’s chest and stomach. Qui-Gon held him as close as he possibly could,
kissing his lips, swallowing down his soft cries - massaging his tight innards
with three large fingers until he felt the boy ease and the grip on his fingers
relax just a bit. But only just. Obi-Wan’s body was glistening with just a
light sheen of sweat, he looked overcome, and - fixing Qui-Gon with an
emotionally charged look - he leaned in to meet his Master’s lips with his own.
And Qui-Gon was right there to greet him. As they kissed, deep and languid -
Qui-Gon feeling on the edge of desperate - he carefully eased his fingers out
of Obi-Wan’s tight depths. The boy gasped against his lips, groaning softly,
hips jerking - still sensitive from his climax. But even when he twitched, he
retaliated by pressing closer to Qui-Gon, every inch - begging with his body
for more. The boy was barely going soft in fact, begging Qui-Gon with his lips
and tongue, breaking away from his Master’s lips to give pleading, encouraging
kisses to Qui-Gon’s throat. And when Qui-Gon felt teeth, he lost what little
self-control he had left.
Qui-Gon rolled Obi-Wan over, onto his back in the sand, they were both sandy
now. And, straddling the boy’s hips, he knelt up over his padawan to strip
himself of the rest of his clothing. And when Obi-Wan reached up to touch him
with his hands, Qui-Gon tossed the last of his clothes aside and grabbed him by
the wrists, pinning them into the sand over Obi-Wan’s head. Obi-Wan groaned and
arched up into his touch but any complaints, Qui-Gon took them from Obi-Wan’s
lips with the deepest kiss he could manage. He wanted Obi-Wan to feel every bit
of his possessiveness. He wanted him to feel the grip on his wrists, the deep -
claiming nature of the kiss. Qui-Gon wanted him to feel the weight of his body.
He wanted Obi-Wan to know exactly who he belonged to. Or more rather, he wanted
Obi-Wan to know that it was Qui-Gon who cared for him, took care of him, and
had the ability to be the strong foundation from which he could grow and
develop into the Jedi Qui-Gon knew he was destined to be.
Judging by Obi-Wan’s reactions - he scarcely had any complaints.
Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan’s wrists and urged him onto his stomach. The sand had
an incredible ability to shift shapes to suit practically any position of the
user, ideal for species of different variations. And while he was sure it
hadn’t been intended for this purpose, the sand allowed Obi-Wan to raise his
hips and buttocks in a perfect way, all while being entirely supported. Qui-Gon
had perfect access and Obi-Wan couldn’t be made any more comfortable than this.
But Qui-Gon hesitated, running a large hand down the beautiful curve of Obi-
Wan’s spine. “Are you sure, Obi-Wan?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire existence.” And the breathy
statement set Qui-Gon’s very soul alight.
Qui-Gon leaned down to cover Obi-Wan’s body with his own, kissing his neck and
biting lightly into his shoulder. The groan he got in return was encouraging
and Qui-Gon reached down for his own erection - which to say it was hard, would
be a massive understatement. “Relax, my Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon told the smaller boy
with a grunt as the head of his cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s tight entrance,
soothing a hand up his thigh and resting it on his flank before letting his
elbow rest in the sand. “I can’t promise you this won’t hurt. But I’ll do my
best to ensure it hurts as little as possible.”
“I know you will, Master.” Obi-Wan assured him. And the sheer need in his
voice, the lust, the desire - the love. It was what drove Qui-Gon ever so
carefully forward, and there was pressure, but it didn’t appear to hurt. And
Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a groan and Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice
utilizing the Force in a whole different way and was about to inwardly commend
him for his ingenuity -
But he lost the ability to form rational thought as the pressure of Obi-Wan
gave and Qui-Gon was admitted into his tight, incredible heat. They both lost
the ability to breathe and Qui-Gon was well aware of how big he was, especially
in comparison to Obi-Wan. Especially considering that Obi-Wan was a virgin. And
he was extraordinarily careful. He was surprised there was only pain when a
third of him was inside and Obi-Wan’s ass was struggling to stretch to
accommodate him, and not outright. But Obi-Wan did the right thing and
immediately reached back to still Qui-Gon’s progress with a hand on his thigh.
“Don’t you stop.” Obi-Wan gasped. “Just give me a second. Right there. Oh Qui-
Gon-”
Qui-Gon’s eyes fell closed and he gave a ragged groan and now he was definitely
using the Force to both keep himself upright and to keep himself from coming
entirely too soon. So Qui-Gon further distracted himself by stroking his free
hand over Obi-Wan’s body, wherever he could reach, murmuring encouraging words
in his ear. And he could reach quite a lot of him. Nearly from ankle to
shoulder actually. And he started thrusting carefully, out and back in, but no
further in depth. Just shallow thrusts to help the stretching. And it was
already so much, such an incredible sensation, that Qui-Gon struggled to cope
with the overload.
Obi-Wan seemed to be in the same state but he was also getting frustrated.
“Please more, Master. I need all of you, please-”
Qui-Gon didn’t have the heart to tell him that it might not be possible, just
yet. But he did give him more. And he actually got half way in, with a good
deep thrust, before Obi-Wan cried out in more than just pleasure. So Qui-Gon
murmured soothing words, and got to his knees behind him. And holding Obi-Wan’s
hips down to ensure that he didn’t move or that the boy didn’t get overeager,
he started to gently fuck him just there. Just like that. With only half of his
length and girth. But even that, to Obi-Wan was considerable. Frankly, even to
Qui-Gon that was considerable.
And his hands were large enough to cradle both Obi-Wan’s hips and most of his
buttocks in a firm grip. And Obi-Wan’s skin was glistening with sweat in the
moonlight. The tight heat of him was beyond blissful. Qui-Gon knew he was also
sweating too, probably more so, and there was nothing more primal than this
joining. He’d never felt the Force more alive, he’d never been more in-tuned.
If there was any question that their joining was not only being encouraged, but
graced with the presence of the Force, Qui-Gon would dare any Force sensitive
individual to declare one. Because they wouldn’t be able.
“Master!” Obi-Wan cried out loudly, high and desperate and Qui-Gon knew exactly
why. He was feeling the same way, but silently, the pressure building at the
base of his spine and in his groin - he was tight enough to burst. And he
leaned down and immediately gave the boy the contact they both craved. Both of
his hands found Obi-Wan as he thrust, half in, ever mindful of his size
compared to the boy. Ever mindful of just how much he could take at the moment.
And Obi-Wan grasped his hands back with all the strength he was capable of.
“Master I-!” Obi-Wan started.
“Say my name.” Qui-Gon encouraged him. “Say it.”
“Qui-Gon-!” And Obi-Wan came.
And so did Qui-Gon. Reflexively almost, but honestly - it was a wonder he’d
lasted as long as he had. And he shouted his climax, grasping onto Obi-Wan’s
hands, nuzzling his face into the boy’s neck - the tightness of Obi-Wan made
more slick as he poured himself inside - coming so hard that it was a wonder he
didn’t lose consciousness. Obi-Wan’s symphony of cries were constant and he was
practically shaking in Qui-Gon’s grasp as he came and kept coming. Qui-Gon
himself was reeling and his climax seemed to last for eternity, time ceased to
have meaning. They were one soul, one being, one bright coalition of energy in
the sprawling vastness that was the Force. They were the Force. They were one
with it and life itself and each other through it and it was like an entire
reawakening - spiritual and otherwise.
“Oh Qui-Gon-” Obi-Wan whispered, however long he wasn’t sure. But then, in an
almost broken voice - but not broken in a negative way. “I love you. I love
you-”
“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon’s breath caught and he felt tears come to his eyes, “I love
you-” he breathed.
Obi-Wan made a choked noise, his breaths only now beginning to even. And then,
what felt like an eternity later of holding each other, enjoying the closeness
- his padawan surprised him by laughing. Just a light sound, as if he was still
out breath.
“What?” Qui-Gon asked, amused.
“You are entirely sheathed within me.” Obi-Wan chuckled.
Qui-Gon felt instantly horrified, almost reflexively pulling back to look. But
he didn’t have to, because he could feel it. And Obi-Wan laughed outright,
quickly reaching back to grab him, with a wince no less because Qui-Gon had
almost accidentally pulled out too quick, “No! No.” his laugh dissolved to a
gentle but very warm chuckle. “Stay, stay. Just stay.”
Qui-Gon grunted, forced himself to relax, and shivered at the feeling of Obi-
Wan’s slick heat fully encompassing his softening erection. He had no idea when
that had happened, and he was hoping that Obi-Wan wasn’t injured. It was
probably when they had came, the added slickness easing the friction. And the
desire to join utterly and completely, apparently they had physically made it
so.
And how long they lay like that, Qui-Gon wasn’t sure. They maybe even dozed.
But typically, it was Obi-Wan who diplomatically pointed out that they were a
mess. Granted, the most beautiful mess they could be. But covered in black,
purple, and tan sand. And sweat and Obi-Wan had been filled up with Qui-Gon’s
seed. Qui-Gon wasn’t bothered but he respected that Obi-Wan might be. And at
last, they parted. But only to join again in the bath that Obi-Wan ran for them
both. And again in the shower, because Obi-Wan declared now that he had to
rinse off from the bath.
But Qui-Gon could scarcely keep his hands off of him a fourth time. And
finally, in the glow of fireworks and the crescendo of what would a six day
celebration of unity and joining after decades of strife, they slept - together
and in each other’s arms. And Qui-Gon knew that they’d never be parted again.
He knew that within his very soul. For they were one soul. Now and for the rest
of eternity.
FIN //
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