Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4225956.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Wars_Episode_I:_The_Phantom_Menace
  Relationship:
      Qui-Gon_Jinn/Obi-Wan_Kenobi
  Additional Tags:
      Boys_in_Chains, Slaves, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Alternate
      Universe
  Series:
      Part 2 of In_Search_of_the_Sun_by_Rushlight
  Collections:
      Chains:_The_Powerfic_Archive
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-28 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 11363
****** Moments Under the Sun ******
by chains_archivist
Summary
     by Rushlight
     This are installments in a new series of PWP's that take place within
     the AU I created for my Q/O story "In Search of the Sun"
Notes
     Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at
     Boys_in_Chains, which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for
     both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring
     the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as
     an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors posted_an
     announcement and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not
     have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please
     contact_the_Open_Doors_committee.
     --
     It has been brought to my attention recently that there are four
     missing years in between "In Search of the Sun" and "Emancipation",
     and that some further exploration of Qui and Obi's relationship
     during that time would not be at all unwelcome. ;)
     Warnings: This story contains an UNDERAGE Obi-Wan, so plesae, if this
     squicks you, then read no further!
***** Moments Under the Sun #1: By Faith We Are Renewed *****
Obi-Wan firmly believed that there could be no more beautiful sight in all the
world than that of a garden in the moonlight.

There was a heavy feel to the light here, a sense that wasn't quite substance,
wasn't quite dimension, but that somehow encompassed both. It hummed through
the air as he walked, breathing in the heady, sweet scents of berries and green
things, tracing the paths of the twisting vines with his eyes and picking out
the nearly overrun patches of milky statuary from amongst the foliage. It was
different somehow, than walking here during the day, as if the setting of the
sun had peeled away the garden's mask and revealed to him the raw, beating
heart of what lay within.

There was a rustle in the underbrush behind him. The stones of the garden wall
were pale on his left side, turned chalky with moonlight, and cut off his view
of the main house. Even so, he had never learned to be afraid, not here on his
master's estate, and the sound did not seem threatening. He turned slowly,
knowing what he would find even before he saw his master's tall shape
silhouetted on the path behind him. 

The light caught on Qui-Gon's outline in a silver halo, glistening on the edges
of his long hair, caressing the face that Obi-Wan so loved, filling the soul-
deep eyes with chases of silver shadow. That face was smiling now, the softness
of the expression tempered by the fire in those twilight eyes. 

"I was looking for you," the soft voice said. 

Obi-Wan shivered, feeling the echoes of that voice burrow into him, claiming
him as its own. *Yes,* some small part of him said, yearning for that degree of
possession, that sense of being owned. All that he was or had ever been
belonged to this man, every secret, every whisper, every deep and shadowed
place within him that made him who he was. *Yours,* his soul murmured, on the
low chuffing of the wind. It stirred his clothes around his body, rasping the
soft fabrics against his skin. 

"You look beautiful tonight." Qui-Gon's voice was warm honey, and the tone of
the words was awed. He took a slow step forward, into the light. 

"Master," was all Obi-Wan could say in reply. He could not look away from his
master's eyes, as if he were irrevocably trapped in the heat of their stare.
His lips parted on a faint exhalation as the wind stirred again around him. 

Everything about Qui-Gon spoke of sensual grace as he moved forward through the
shadowed foliage, a cut-out shadow of beguiling beauty against the night; more
real, in a way, than the garden that surged in untamed ecstasy around him. Obi-
Wan stared in transfixed wonder as the older man approached him, and again, his
soul whispered to him, in a note of quiet joy. *Yours.* 

One of Qui-Gon's large hands reached out to cup his padawan's jaw. Obi-Wan
leaned his head into the caress, his eyes closing. His lashes tickled where
they brushed across his cheeks, but he barely felt it; his entire consciousness
was wrapped up in the awareness of his master's hand against his face.

"Beautiful," Qui-Gon said again, and he took a step closer, bringing the heat
of his body that much nearer. Obi-Wan could feel it, even through the inches of
empty air that separated them. A soft sigh escaped him, warming the air between
them. Somewhere, the chuckling splash of a fountain accented the night. 

Soft lips descended over him. Obi-Wan gasped, tipping his chin up as Qui-Gon's
mouth slid over his, gentle breath hot against his face. Qui-Gon ran his tongue
lightly over the curve of Obi-Wan's lips, teasing another small sigh from his
throat, then drew the bottom lip slowly into his mouth, suckling gently. 

Obi-Wan's breath caught somewhere south of his breastbone, and he melted
against his master's strong form. He may have fallen if not for the arms that
closed around him, supporting him, holding him upright as Qui-Gon continued the
assault on his mouth. That tongue was inside him now, caressing, stroking, and
Obi-Wan moaned around it, his hands clenching reflexively in his master's
sleeves. This was still new to him, this touching, this degree of intimacy, and
he could not get enough of it. 

It was as if, with that first night they spent together as lovers, his master
had woken up a hunger inside of him that could not be quenched. It was a desire
for more than physical contact, more than the pleasure that came with the
release of their physical passions. He wanted more than sex; he wanted *Qui-
Gon*, with all of the love and the lust and the life that came with him. 

After a small eternity, Qui-Gon pulled away, and Obi-Wan licked his lips,
opening his eyes dazedly. One of Qui-Gon's hands was cupped around the back of
his neck, supporting him, while the other played idly with the hair at the side
of his face. Qui-Gon's eyes were dark above him, luminous in the moonlight, and
his expression made Obi-Wan's world narrow to the feel of his master's hands on
his skin. 

"Beautiful," Qui-Gon murmured, tracing the edge of his padawan's cheekbone with
one finger, a light, almost insubstantial touch that nevertheless managed to
send shivers racing deeply into Obi-Wan's bones. He smiled, caressing his
padawan's face with his eyes, until finally Obi-Wan felt compelled to speak. 

"Kiss me again," he said, in a voice that seemed somehow a part of the wind and
the leaves around them. And then, softer, "Please." 

Qui-Gon took a step forward, making Obi-Wan fall back a pace instinctively, his
eyes never leaving the silent hunger of his master's stare. Qui-Gon's lips
curled slightly, and Obi-Wan moistened his lips in anticipation. His vision was
filled with the promise that lurked deep in his master's eyes, and he stared,
caught by the way the light glistened on the moistened curve of his master's
lower lip. Obi-Wan's heartbeat seemed to slow as he watched it, as the blood in
his veins pulsed a steady, unbroken rhythm of desire: *Yours, yours, yours.*

Another step, and the hard stone of the garden wall was flush against his back.
Before Obi-Wan's mind had time to process his suddenly vulnerable position,
Qui-Gon was pressed up against him, kissing him with a potency that made him go
weak in the knees. Strong hands fumbled at the clasp of his belt, loosening his
tunics, and then callused palms slid in across the skin of his chest and sides,
igniting trails of liquid fire across his skin wherever they touched him. 

"Yes," Obi-Wan whispered, his head falling back, his body arching forward
against that insistently demanding touch. Qui-Gon's lips slid down across the
curve of his jaw to suckle at his throat, hot tongue swiping across his skin.
Obi-Wan's hands scrabbled at his master's back, trying to pull him closer,
grinding his hips forward into the other man's warmth. 

"Gently, love," Qui-Gon whispered. His breath was hot against Obi-Wan's jaw, so
that Obi-Wan almost thought he would be burned by it. Qui-Gon's hands smoothed
down his padawan's sides in a calming gesture, fingers sliding under the
waistband of his leggings and tugging gently. Obi-Wan whimpered softly as the
leggings were pulled down over the curve of his hips, baring his skin to air. 

"Shh," Qui-Gon said, as he continued his downward movement, lowering slowly to
his knees as if he were a supplicant kneeling before the altar of his god. Obi-
Wan stared at that cinnamon head as it bent in front of him, feeling an
inexplicable quickening inside his chest. He shivered as a stray tendril of
wind brushed across the exposed skin of his chest, hardening his nipples in
passing, but Qui-Gon's hand slid up the outside of his bared leg in a gesture
that immediately set fire inside Obi-Wan's veins.

"Master," Obi-Wan gasped, his hands moving instinctively to his master's bowed
head. His fingers twined deeply into that tousled mane, massaging heavily as he
fought against the rapid pounding of his heart. He knew, he knew what this
posture portended, but even the thought that his master might in reality be
preparing to do this for him was overwhelming. 

Qui-Gon's fingers stroked deeply into the hollows of Obi-Wan's hips as he gazed
at the prize in front of him. Obi-Wan's leggings were pooled around the tops of
his burgundy boots now, forgotten, and his soft tunics hung open around his
torso. He felt a moment's insecurity as Qui-Gon's eyes raked over his skin,
testing the heavy weight of his arousal, but then he let his head fall back
against the wall, focusing on the sensation of his master's hands on his skin. 

"I love you." The words could have come from the depths of the garden itself,
from the wind, from the stars that blinked down in unceasing majesty above
them. Obi-Wan closed his eyes as Qui-Gon trailed kisses down across his
hipbone, laying a sweet trail of moisture across the skin with the tip of his
tongue. Obi-Wan held his breath, listening to the distant splash of the
fountain to ground himself as his soul seemed to fly free of his body at the
contact. 

Qui-Gon's lips were alternately soft and then demanding against Obi-Wan's body,
tormenting the sensitive curves of his padawan's hips and thighs with
flickering, ghost-like kisses and then startling him by sucking deep blood-
marks into his skin. Soon, his master's hands were the only thing holding Obi-
Wan upright against the wall. There would be visible bruises come morning, and
the thought swelled within him until he could think of nothing else. His
master's mark, there, on his skin. *Yours.* The force of Qui-Gon's desire for
him was overwhelming.

Obi-Wan almost sobbed when the first fleeting kiss brushed across the tip of
his erection. His hips surged forward, but Qui-Gon held him, soothing him with
slow strokes of his thumbs against his padawan's hips. Obi-Wan panted
shallowly, his body quivering, as the lips came back to touch him again. Soft
brush of beard against his skin. He couldn't believe this, couldn't believe his
master was actually going to- 

He shouted harshly as Qui-Gon's mouth opened over him, taking the tip of his
penis inside. Impossible softness, heat, and he had *never* felt anything like
this before, never dreamed that such a sensation was possible. Obi-Wan's head
tipped back against the wall, his eyes locking reflexively on the canvas of
stars above him, his mouth opening on a silent scream.

The air was thick with the scents of spring and passion, sweet with the
lingering fragrance of growing things, and dark, moist earth. Obi-Wan breathed
it all in hungrily, and he knew that this scent would always remind him of his
master now, this taunting combination of air and earth, love and lust, freedom
and possession. His nails raked like claws down the back of his master's neck
as the tension grew within him, and Qui-Gon's arms moved around his waist,
holding him, supporting him when he would have fallen.

Qui-Gon was humming deeply in rhythm with his movements now, and Obi-Wan
glanced down, feeling as if he were in an erotically charged dream as he
watched his master's head bob in front of him, wringing unbearable pleasure
from him with every second that passed. Qui-Gon's hands slid along the bottom
of his padawan's backside, fingers slipping teasingly into the crease between
the soft globes, and Obi-Wan gave himself up to the touch with a shudder,
sliding one knee up to hug Qui-Gon's body even more tightly against him. His
fingers clenched in the older man's hair, and his hips moved, pushing himself
deeply into the moist cavern of his master's throat. 

Skin on skin, heat against heat, and there was nothing, nothing more
intoxicating in all the world than this connection between them. Obi-Wan felt
it sing through every cell in his body with each breath that rasped past his
throat, every movement of his master's mouth against him, and it was perfect,
beautiful and perfect, that he should be claimed in this way, with such
rawness, with such aching, heartfelt need. One of Qui-Gon's hands slid down to
free the flesh from between his own legs, and his hand moved there now with
deliberate intent, making the breath that fell over Obi-Wan's cock hitch in
unvoiced pleasure; the sight of it made Obi-Wan moan aloud. 

"Master," Obi-Wan whispered, and then he came. 

The pleasure exploded like starfire within him, and he screamed in unabashed
rapture, his hips pumping wildly into Qui-Gon's mouth as the orgasm ripped
through him. He was barely aware of his master's own hoarse shout, or the
tensing of the body in front of him, or the way his master's fingers tightened
to the point of pain around his waist. He slid to his knees, sobbing, as the
pleasure died down to rippling waves and at last to a lingering vibration under
his skin. Qui-Gon held him, and they huddled together in wordless reassurance,
each of them both giving and receiving comfort from the touch. 

For a moment, there was no sound other than the deep rasp of their breaths and
the soughing of the wind in the leaves, and the distant splashing of the
fountain. Then Qui-Gon placed a kiss, very lightly, against the side of his
padawan's neck.

"I love you," he said.

Obi-Wan shivered at the words. He looked up then into his master's eyes, and
realized that he had been wrong in his earlier assessment of the garden's
beauty. For there was a sight more beautiful than even a garden at night - his
master, staring down at him with sated eyes, hair displayed in wanton disarray
around the planes of his face, as he held his padawan in the aftermath of their
passion. 

"I love you," Obi-Wan returned with a shy smile.

"I saw you standing there, in the moonlight," Qui-Gon said, tracing his fingers
along the sides of his padawan's face. The light in his eyes was heavy with
warmth and satiation. "And all I could think of was how very badly I wanted to
taste you." One of his hands smoothed over Obi-Wan's hair, sliding the sweat-
dampened strands between his fingers. He kissed Obi-Wan's cheek lightly as he
pulled his padawan's leggings up to shield him from the worst of the cold. 

Obi-Wan leaned forward against his master's chest, shivering anew under the
softly voiced words. It seemed impossible, that he could know such happiness,
but here he was, now, in his master's arms. He felt a wave of vertigo as Qui-
Gon stood, one arm sliding beneath his padawan's legs to lift him carefully
from the ground. Obi-Wan allowed himself to be carried, twining his arms around
Qui-Gon's neck and burying his face against the sweet-smelling softness of his
master's hair. *Love you,* his soul whispered, and he knew, without having to
speak his thoughts aloud, that Qui-Gon heard it. 

Together, they made their way over the path through the evening garden and
toward the distant lights of home.

End.
8/29/00
***** Moments Under the Sun #2: In Silence There Is No Absolution *****
Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure what drew him to the place where his master was
bathing that evening, after he had finished with his chores and put the dogs
outside for the night. Maybe it was the low, hypnotic sound of the splashing
water, or maybe it was the almost tuneless humming that floated out through the
half-open bathroom door. Obi-Wan crept slowly across the yawning bedroom, drawn
as if against his will by a curiosity that he could not explain.
The marble floor was cold under his bare feet. The veranda doors were open at
the far side of the room, and a light breeze billowed the shimmering sheer of
the curtain that covered their glass surface, catching Obi-Wan's eye.
Everything about this room was ostentatious, and he could not feel comfortable
here, no matter how much his new master attempted to put him at ease. And
despite the fact that Obi-Wan was beginning to trust in his master's kindness,
there was still the lingering fear that tonight, tonight would be the night
when he would at last be claimed as Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan.
Closer now, towards the thin crescent of golden light that spilled into the
darkened bedroom through the bathroom door. Obi-Wan felt his heartbeat quicken
as he approached that fancifully engraved portal, its surface gilded by shadow
and moonlight. Obi-Wan's eyes were drawn to it, as he stepped up to the very
edge of the light and peered within.
Qui-Gon was inside the deep bathing tub, hair loose around his broad shoulders
as it seldom was during the day. Obi-Wan watched in rapt fascination as his
master bent to wring the water out of those heavy strands, twisting the whole
mass of it in one deft movement and then laying it back across his shoulders to
dry. The water swelled around him as he moved, and the air was thick with the
scents of cedar and spice, and the subtle yet pervasive fragrance of crushed
roses.
Obi-Wan huddled back at the doorway's edge and watched as his master hummed a
last snatch of tuneless tune before moving to rise from the tub. Obi-Wan's
breath caught, and suddenly he wanted very much to run away, but he couldn't
move. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of that very large, very naked
body emerging from the confines of the water that had enclosed it, shedding the
water in molten rivulets that caught and refracted the light. Each tiny droplet
shimmered in tiny prisms of color that had no right existing anywhere outside
of dreams.
Strong limbs, smooth skin, covered with a light dusting of hair. Obi-Wan
stared, transfixed, his eyes tracing the contours of that naked frame from the
anonymity of his vantage point outside the door. Qui-Gon reached for a towel
and began to dry his hair, oblivious to the eyes that watched him.
Unable to help himself, Obi-Wan's gaze slid down to take in the heavy flesh
that hung between his master's legs. The sight of it made his heart race in ...
dread? Wonder? The flutter that appeared in his belly at that moment was
suspiciously unlike fear.
Then Qui-Gon began to towel dry his long limbs and torso, and Obi-Wan at last
found the will to move. Any moment now, his master would be coming through this
doorway to join his padawan in their bed. It would not do to be caught spying
outside the door, no matter how innocent his intentions.
With a last lingering look at his master's strong frame, Obi-Wan turned and
made his way silently to the big bed in the middle of the bedroom. He shimmied
under the soft sheets and lay huddled on his side, counting each concussive
beating of his heart as he waited for his master to appear. Despite his
caution, he was deathly afraid that he had been spotted in his illicit
observations.
Only a few moments passed before Qui-Gon came out of the bathroom and made his
way to the bed. Obi-Wan kept his eyes carefully closed as the mattress dipped
under his master's weight, and he steeled himself not to flinch when that warm
body settled behind him. No matter how hard he tried, he could not erase the
image from his mind of water glistening on bronzed skin. Thankfully, Qui-Gon
was dressed in light pants again tonight, although his torso was bare due to
the warmth of the summer evening. Obi-Wan could feel the heat of that bared
skin even though their bodies were not touching.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon said softly, his voice the faintest breath in the darkness
of the room.
Obi-Wan considered feigning sleep, but then opted against it. Just the sound of
his master's voice was enough to set him trembling, and he couldn't help but
note that it was a trembling that had little if anything to do with fear. He
truly did not understand the feelings that his master's proximity was awakening
in him.
"Yes, Master?" he relied, just as quietly. He rolled so that he could meet his
master's heavy gaze and all but melted under it; he felt very small suddenly
next to that long form.
Qui-Gon's eyes were smoky in the moon-touched darkness of the room, and his
expression was kind. "Are you well, my young one? You seem very ... distant ...
tonight." The light in his eyes shifted slightly, giving his face a melancholy
cast.
For a moment, Obi-Wan could not answer. All he could think suddenly was how
very beautiful his master was, how strong and noble he looked in the shifting
light that filtered in through the veranda doors. Surely there was no harm that
could come to Obi-Wan here, not while he was under this man's care. The
certainty of that wafted through him like a sigh, and he felt the tension ease
out of him.
He smiled. "I'm fine, Master. I just missed you."
Qui-Gon chuckled and reached out one arm to pull Obi-Wan in close against his
chest. Obi-Wan snuggled into that warm embrace with a happy sigh, closing his
eyes as he breathed deeply of the scents of male musk and clean skin. It was a
fragrance that he was fast becoming familiar with, and already, it was becoming
synonymous in his mind with health and happiness and home.
"You're the brightest part of my life, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured against his
padawan's hair, and the absolute seriousness of his tone left no doubt in Obi-
Wan's mind that the words were true. Obi-Wan felt a slow shiver work its way
through him as he considered the fact that he could hold such a place in this
man's life.
"My Master," Obi-Wan replied, and smiled as he felt Qui-Gon's fingers under his
chin, tilting his face up so that Qui-Gon could look into his eyes. Obi-Wan
felt a dull warmth bloom inside his chest, and although he had never felt its
like before, he believed that it might be the beginnings of love.
Qui-Gon smiled tenderly and traced the line of his padawan's brow. Obi-Wan
shivered delicately under the caress, feeling the deep-rooted affection that
was evident in the simple gesture. His heartbeat sped as Qui-Gon bent to kiss
him.
The touch of the other man's lips was soft, more breath than skin, and the
light, tickling brush of his beard was a welcome distraction from the feelings
that churned unchecked within Obi-Wan's mind. When Qui-Gon finally pulled away,
Obi-Wan realized that his eyes were closed. He opened them slowly, and found
Qui-Gon staring down at him with a weighing look, as if judging his reaction to
the kiss.
"I don't know what I'm feeling," Obi-Wan admitted hesitantly, feeling that some
manner of elucidation was called for.
Qui-Gon smiled softly. "You will, my dear one." He kissed Obi-Wan lightly on
the brow; his lips were warm against Obi-Wan's skin. "You will."
He settled down against the pillows then, pulling Obi-Wan with him. Obi-Wan
curled against the larger man's chest, feeling safe and warm and loved. It
seemed that tonight, again, Qui-Gon would not be claiming him.
And yet, as he lay there in the darkening silence of the room, listening to the
chirring of the insects in the garden outside their window, Obi-Wan couldn't
help but think that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, if his master were
to make use of his body in the way that their traditions entailed. For the
first time, he felt a stirring of excitement at the thought of it.
He felt Qui-Gon smile against his hair as he snuggled back further into the
curve of the arms that held him. Again, Obi-Wan felt that bloom of warmth
inside of him, and his lips found an answering smile as he drifted off to
sleep.
***** Moments Under the Sun #3: Through Unity We Find Our Light *****
Chapter Summary
     These are a series of missing scenes that take place within the
     framework of my chanslash story 'In Search of the Sun', an AU in
     which "padawan" is an ancient word for "bedslave".
"What can I do to please you tonight, my Master?"
Qui-Gon felt an immediate tightening in his groin at his padawan's softly
spoken words, and he wondered, not for the first time, where his innocent Obi-
Wan had learned to be so damned sensual. It was a part of the boy's allure, of
course, that such an attitude was entirely unconscious and purely instinctual,
at one with his fluid grace and soft skin and enticingly inquisitive mind.
Every time Qui-Gon heard the subtle eroticism of his padawan's voice, he fell
in love all over again.
"What do you wish to do for me tonight, my Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon returned, smiling
slightly as he leaned back on one elbow at the side of the bed. The mattress
gave slightly under his weight, embracing his upper body against the softness
of his pillows.
Obi-Wan was sitting at the opposite end of the bed, his skin freshly pinked
from the heat of his bath. The light caught on the reddish-gold highlights of
his hair, which curled damply against his cheeks, and his eyes were bright
within the flushed contours of his face. He was smiling.
"I want to please you," he said simply, meeting Qui-Gon's gaze steadily.
Despite the boy's self-assurance and his eagerness to please, Qui-Gon could see
echoes in Obi-Wan's smile of the shy young virgin who had first come into the
Jedi Master's life to grace his bed. Obi-Wan had grown a great deal since that
time, but there was still an innocence to him, a light, that Qui-Gon hoped he
would never lose.
The tender ache of desire in the boy's eyes was irresistible. Qui-Gon felt the
weight of that gaze shiver through him, vibrating through every part of him,
until nothing short of total immersion in this sensitive young soul could bring
him satisfaction. How hollow his life must have been before this boy came to be
with him. Qui-Gon found with increasing regularity that that he could not
precisely recall a time in which Obi-Wan had not been a part of his life.
In truth, Qui-Gon had never truly intended to take on a padawan. It was a dire
responsibility, to take charge of a life so young, to be accountable for its
teaching, its growth. It was an undertaking that Qui-Gon had steadfastly
refused to even consider throughout his Knighthood, no matter how much the
other Masters tried to convince him of his need to take on a padawan companion.
And yet, all it had taken to break his resolve had been the guileless gaze of
two blue-crystal eyes, that one fateful morning on the Choosing Green. Now,
years later, he could not imagine what it had been like to live his life alone,
or why he would ever have chosen to do so. The fact that Obi-Wan did not rebel
against his mastery, and in fact embraced it, made all the difference in the
world.
"Kiss me," Qui-Gon said, knowing that his instruction would be obeyed.
Obi-Wan's smile deepened, and his eyes flickered in the dim light as he slid
forward across the bed toward his master's quiescent form. The boy moved with a
grace that was almost feral, and the light played along the edges of his smooth
skin with a lover's caress, making Qui-Gon ache to touch him. But he held
himself still as his padawan bent to touch their lips together, and the Jedi
Master closed his eyes against the contented sigh that wafted across his face.
Qui-Gon's entire world narrowed to the feel of those lips, the taste of them,
and he deepened the kiss slightly, pressing forward with his tongue.
Obi-Wan moaned faintly. The sound sent an electric jolt of pure lust arcing
down into Qui-Gon's groin, and he reached out to fold his arms around his
padawan, pulling him close against the length of his body. Obi-Wan acquiesced
without a word, molding his body to Qui-Gon's with almost decadent flair, his
slender arms sliding around his master's shoulders. Unable to resist him, Qui-
Gon kissed him again, and this time he took the lead, quietly ravaging that
young mouth until Obi-Wan was arched against him, the evidence of his arousal
pressing insistently into Qui-Gon's hip.
"My love," Qui-Gon murmured, trailing his nose lightly along the side of his
padawan's face. Obi-Wan shivered in his arms, a warm expanse of naked skin that
was sleek and lean and unbearably aroused. Ever since he had been introduced to
the delights of sexual intercourse nearly a year ago, Obi-Wan had shown nothing
but enthusiasm for this type of communion between them. Qui-Gon felt an ache
deep inside of his chest as he considered yet again how fortunate he was to
have this boy as his padawan.
"Master," Obi-Wan replied breathlessly, one thigh sliding up over Qui-Gon's leg
to embrace him. He gasped softly as their erections brushed together, and Qui-
Gon watched in amazement as the boy's eyes darkened, his entire face going
slack at the pleasure of the contact.
Qui-Gon stroked his hips forward languidly, watching avidly as Obi-Wan
responded to the increased friction. Obi-Wan met his master's gaze with wide
eyes, his expression dazed. It was too perfect, the way this boy responded to
him. Qui-Gon felt as if he could come just from watching Obi-Wan's expressions
as he was made love to.
And suddenly Qui-Gon realized that he wanted more from this boy than he had
taken in the past. The thought sent a thrill of excruciating arousal through
him, and he caught his breath as Obi-Wan took the initiative and rocked his
hips forward in an undulating rhythm, his legs tightening around Qui-Gon's
hips. The movement of that body against him felt so warm, so good, that Qui-Gon
was tempted to let Obi-Wan finish what they had started, but then he thought
again of what else they could share, and he was decided. Gently, he extricated
himself from his padawan's embrace.
Obi-Wan made an incoherent sound of protest as Qui-Gon pulled away from him,
but Qui-Gon silenced him with a finger pressed lightly against his lips. Obi-
Wan's eyes were filled with disappointed yearning as the heat of his master's
body was lost to him, but then Qui-Gon soothed away the momentary flicker of
betrayal with a deep and lingering kiss.
"My heart," Qui-Gon said, once he had pulled away. He slid his hands
possessively over that smooth skin, and all of the old analogies came rushing
to the forefront of his mind - lustrous, satiny, soft as silk. He cupped his
hand at the back of Obi-Wan' neck and guided that tousled head down to the
front of his chest.
It took Obi-Wan less than a second to understand what it was his master wanted.
Qui-Gon inhaled sharply as his padawan's soft lips closed over his nipple,
providing gentle suction as the slick warmth of a tongue slid slowly over the
hardened nub. Qui-Gon's hips rocked under the sensation, and he growled low in
his throat as the sharp pleasure speared through him.
"Obi-Wan," he murmured, and he pressed encouragingly at the back of that smooth
neck, massaging deeply with his thumb. Obi-Wan moved to the other side of his
master's chest, leaving a line of burning kisses in his wake, and Qui-Gon
hissed as his other nipple was given similar attention. In this as in
everything else, Obi-Wan was an apt pupil, and he had learned well over the
past year that his master's nipples were one of his most erogenous zones. Qui-
Gon's head fell back with a low groan, and for a few moments he simply allowed
himself to feel what his padawan was doing to him.
But it was not enough. Ever so gently, he applied pressure to Obi-Wan's
shoulders, feeling that warm skin slide smoothly under his palms. Obi-Wan
responded immediately, giving Qui-Gon's nipple one last nip before working his
way down his master's torso with a stream of moist kisses, painting an elegant
portrait of pleasure with lips and teeth and tongue that left the older man
gasping. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed, massaging deeply into those slender
shoulders as he continued to encourage his padawan's downward movement. His
erection was throbbing gently between his legs in almost painful anticipation.
There was a flicker of silvery blue as Obi-Wan's eyes darted uncertainly to
glance up at him, and Qui-Gon stroked the boy's cheek reassuringly, meeting his
questioning gaze. "Do you know what I want of you, my love?" Qui-Gon said
softly, captivated by the tender innocence in those eyes.
"I ... I think so." Obi-Wan sounded none too certain. There was a beguiling
shyness about him now that had become increasingly sporadic over the past year,
ever since Qui-Gon had first claimed him. As Obi-Wan's confidence in himself
and his master grew, Qui-Gon could practically see the boy maturing before his
eyes.
"Only if you want to, love." In this, Qui-Gon was very firm. He stroked his
thumb up along the edge of Obi-Wan's jaw, brushing lightly across his lips.
Obi-Wan kissed the pad of the bigger man's thumb in passing seemingly without
thought. His eyes never moved away from Qui-Gon's gaze.
Obi-Wan hesitated only a moment. "I want to," he said, and while his expression
was still vaguely shadowed with indecision, his tone was determined.
Qui-Gon frowned, and his grip around his padawan's jaw tightened slightly. "I
don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Obi-Wan. It would
grieve me terribly if you were to do so. In this bed we are to work towards our
mutual pleasure, not mine alone."
Instantly, the hesitation in Obi-Wan's expression fled. He smiled and cupped
his hand over Qui-Gon's, and he nuzzled his cheek into the concavity of his
master's palm with an almost felinoid possessiveness. "I love you, Master," he
said, and Qui-Gon was struck by the absolute love and trust that he saw shining
out of that blue-eyed gaze. "I want to do this for you. Please, let me."
Qui-Gon could only nod, unable to speak as a cascading wave of love-lust-pride-
joy-need rose up in him. Mine, his mind reiterated with uncommon forcefulness,
and his fingers twined into the still dampened curls of his Obi-Wan's hair,
guiding that willing head into position between his thighs. The feel of the
boy's breath wafting across the skin of his abdomen was enough to set him
shivering, and he bit down on his lower lip in sudden agitation, his entire
body strung with anticipation.
Mine, he thought again, as the first hesitant kisses fell onto the hardened
length of his cock. It was an effort to hold himself still as Obi-Wan slid over
him, settling himself comfortably between his master's legs. Qui-Gon bent his
knees slightly, cradling that warm body between his thighs, and angled his hips
into his padawan's untutored yet extremely pleasurable touch.
"That's it, Obi-Wan," he urged, the breath panting out of him with each word.
Oh, how he wanted to be enveloped in that beautiful mouth, stroked by that
beloved tongue and milked within the confines of this boy's throat until he was
screaming with ecstasy, but he would not rush this. They had all the time in
the world together to learn the art of love; right now all he wanted was Obi-
Wan, the feel of him, the presence of him, and just knowing that this boy loved
him was more erotic than all of the physical sensations that the most learned
of lovers could ever produce within him.
Obi-Wan traced the length of Qui-Gon's erection with his tongue, from root to
tip, as he reached to cup his master's sac in the curve of one hand. Qui-Gon
vibrated under that tentative touch, spreading his thighs to encourage further
explorations. Obi-Wan glanced up at him once, hesitantly, and he seemed to find
confidence in what he saw in Qui-Gon's face because he immediately bent to
close his mouth over the head of his master's erection.
Heat. Oh, gods. Qui-Gon couldn't stop himself from arching his hips up into
that delicious embrace, and his fingers tightened without his conscious
volition in his padawan's hair. He ghosted his thumb over Obi-Wan's cheek in
silent apology, but Obi-Wan only increased the suction of his grip on his
master's cock, drawing a ragged gasp out of Qui-Gon's throat. He began to suck
rhythmically, sliding more of his master's flesh into his mouth, taking his
cues from the increasingly frenetic sounds that Qui-Gon made in response to his
ministrations.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon groaned, as the pleasure twined through him in rapidly
escalating pulses, until he felt as if his skin were actually scintillating
with the force of his intense arousal. He had never felt anything like this,
never, and he closed his eyes against the force of it, a low, steady keening
rising in his throat as he rocked gently up into Obi-Wan's determined mouth. He
slid the flat of one foot up over the back of Obi-Wan's leg, teasing the tender
skin of his buttocks and pressing lightly into the softness of the boy's
perineum with his toes. Obi-Wan's thighs fell open in instant response to the
gentle intrusion, and his shoulders arched in soundless pleasure as he
continued to suckle at his master's flesh with eager abandon.
Qui-Gon felt the orgasm begin deep in the pit of his belly, burning threads of
intensity that shot straight down to the balls of his feet. He held himself
motionless, unable to breathe, as the encroaching climax grew with teasing
sluggishness within him. The sensation of Obi-Wan's mouth on him seemed
suddenly unbearably intense, and he froze, thinking only that this was Obi-Wan,
his Obi-Wan, who was making love to him, who loved him, who wanted to make him
come...
His climax came without warning, ripping a ragged shout from his throat as the
waves of pleasure coursed through him. He felt Obi-Wan jerk away in surprise as
the passion spurted out of him, and Qui-Gon's shout turned into a burst of
delighted laughter as he saw the expression on his padawan's face.
"Love you," he managed to gasp out, and instantly, Obi-Wan was flowing up into
his arms, lithe body molded against him once again as their mouths met in a
passionate kiss that held all the depths of love and lust and longing within
it. Obi-Wan's erection was still hard and burning against Qui-Gon's thigh, and
the frustrated arousal fairly thrummed out of him, so that Qui-Gon felt his
breath quickening in response to it.
He encouraged Obi-Wan's legs to open with a gentle touch of his fingers, and
Qui-Gon's hands smoothed over the boy's lower back as those slender legs slid
up to close around his hips. Obi-Wan clung to him unabashedly, lost to the
passion that flowed between them, as he attacked Qui-Gon's mouth with a frantic
ferocity that left both of them breathless. Qui-Gon allowed the tender ravaging
to continue, letting Obi-Wan extinguish his passion in the embrace of his
master's arms, slim hips rocking smoothly against the hardness of Qui-Gon's
body. Both of their bodies were slick with sweat, and they slid together
effortlessly, as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within Obi-Wan's slim
form.
And then Obi-Wan tensed with an ecstatic cry, his eyes going wide and sightless
as the pleasure exploded through him. Qui-Gon held him tightly, burying his
face against the curve of that smooth neck, nipping and licking at the salt-
sweet skin in fervent worship as Obi-Wan sobbed against him in the throes of
his passion.
When it was over, they both lay limply together in the circle of each other's
arms. Qui-Gon smiled down into sated blue eyes and brushed the hair away from
his padawan's face, letting his fingers linger over the curve of one delicate
cheekbone. Obi-Wan smiled at him, his expression one of absolute contentment.
"Thank you," Qui-Gon murmured, touching his nose lightly to Obi-Wan's.
Obi-Wan's smile broadened. "You're welcome."
With a heavy sigh, Qui-Gon reached for the edge of one of the blankets and used
it to clean up the remnants of their lovemaking from both of their bodies,
smoothing over Obi-Wan's stomach and genitals with deliberate care. Obi-Wan lay
back against the pillows with a contented sigh, his eyes closing in decadent
pleasure at the feel of it.
"Little hedonist," Qui-Gon teased, and he was rewarded with an impish smile.
Obi-Wan's eyes fairly crackled with good humor.
A moment later, his expression sobered. "I love you, Master," he said, and
there was an earnestness in the simple statement that cut to Qui-Gon's heart.
"As I love you," Qui-Gon replied seriously, setting the soiled blanket aside on
the floor beside the bed. Any further cleaning would have to wait until the
morning. He folded Obi-Wan carefully in his arms, pulling the remaining
blankets up around them, and sighed as Obi-Wan curled against him.
"My master," Obi-Wan said with an answering sigh, and there was a wealth of
subdued meaning in the words.
Qui-Gon tightened his arms around the boy, and Obi-Wan snuggled against him,
the breath soughing out of him as he relaxed into his master's embrace. Qui-Gon
stroked his hand languidly over Obi-Wan's hair, understanding full well what
his padawan was trying to tell him.
"Rest now, my love," Qui-Gon said, sensing that Obi-Wan was already drifting
away into the tantalizing lassitude that enveloped them both. "My padawan."
Obi-Wan seemed to smile at this confirmation of the bond between them, and the
last of the residual tension drained out of his body. Master and padawan, owner
and possession, lover and loved. Theirs was a complex dichotomy that had to be
defined anew every day that they lived together, as they both struggled to
define their place within the parameters of their relationship. It was not an
easy task, as love warred with lust, possession with pride, and Qui-Gon was
continually made aware of the fact that Obi-Wan, while his property by law, was
truly the guide in the course that they followed.
"I love you," he whispered, but Obi-Wan was already asleep.
Still smiling softly to himself, Qui-Gon followed his example.
 
The End
***** Moments Under the Sun #4: A Shadow Over Eternity *****
"Master," Obi-Wan moaned, his head falling back against Qui-Gon's shoulder. His
fingers tightened around the older man's arms where they wrapped around him as
his hips angled sharply up into his master's touch.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon panted, bending in to nuzzle his padawan's ear. He could
feel Obi-Wan's breath against his face, the line of the boy's spine taut
against his naked chest, as those slender legs spread open across his thighs.
Gods, every movement this young man made was eroticism incarnate - and he *was*
a young man now, almost a man. The thought made Qui-Gon inexplicably sad for
reasons that he did not want to examine too closely.
"Master, please..."
Qui-Gon's breath hitched at the throaty plea, as he slid a hand up the sweat-
slickened slope of his padawan's ribs. His fingers closed over one rose-tinged
nipple and pulled, drawing forth another wrenching cry. Obi-Wan's mouth groped
blindly for his and kissed him, hard, making Qui-Gon groan aloud as that
slender body arched back against him. The straining flesh that filled his left
hand felt almost burning to the touch, and he could feel the slickness of his
padawan's mounting pleasure slide under his fingers as his palm moved over the
hard shaft with increasing urgency.
Qui-Gon tasted tears in the kiss, sharp and salty against the honey of his
padawan's sweetness. He rubbed the side of his face against Obi-Wan's cheek,
silently soothing as he tightened his grip on that rigid flesh and increased
the pace of his movements. Obi-Wan's entire body vibrated within his arms,
light and passion and love intermingling until he seemed a being of almost pure
light, pure love. Qui-Gon gasped harshly into the boy's ear as the smooth curve
of Obi-Wan's buttocks rubbed erratically against his groin. Even through the
layer of the trousers that he still wore, the sensation was almost more than he
could bear.
With a single, ecstatic shout, Obi-Wan came, his body tensing like a whipcord
inside Qui-Gon's embrace. His fingers dug with unintentional ferocity into his
master's arms as he clung to him, anchoring himself against the older man's
strength as the tide of sensation surged through him with gale-like intensity.
His voice was hoarse as he cried Qui-Gon's name, trailing off into the barest
whimper of satisfied need. His body folded back against Qui-Gon's like a
deflated balloon, muted and pliant and utterly spent.
Qui-Gon had barely a moment to register the state of his own unflagging arousal
before that body tensed again in his arms, and Obi-Wan slid off of his lap to
kneel before him on the floor. Qui-Gon felt warm hands tracing the insides of
his thighs, making him bite the inside of his lip to hold back his cry at the
sheer deliciousness of his padawan's touch.
"Obi-Wan," he said, hoarsely. One hand lifted to smooth against the side of the
younger man's head, feeling the soft strands of hair slide through his fingers
like raw silk. His fingers moved down to cup the younger man's jaw, gently
urging those stormy blue eyes to look up at him. "This was for you. I do not
require..."
"Let me do this for you, Master." Obi-Wan's fingers were already moving deftly
at the laces at his master's waist, trembling only slightly with the force of
his need. There was a residual trace of tears in his eyes, fragmenting the
light there as he looked up into the older man's gaze. He pressed a soft kiss
to the inside of Qui-Gon's thigh. When he spoke next, his voice was a harsh
whisper. Please."
Qui-Gon groaned, his head falling back as he followed the direction of those
talented hands. The mattress of the bed was firm against his back, and the feel
of Obi-Wan's hand against his stomach, gently encouraging him to lay down, felt
like a brand of blazing iron against his skin. "Obi-Wan," he said again,
without realizing entirely what it was he intended to say to the boy. It was a
single disconnected thought swirling without form or substance through his
brain - *Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan...*
"Yours," Obi-Wan whispered, startling him. There was a surreal aspect to the
way the young man's hands smoothed over his master's skin, soothing the tremors
out of him, providing comfort in this bizarre juxtaposition of roles. For this
moment, he was the comforter, the one who held, who loved, and Qui-Gon found
himself reveling in it, as his padawan's hands worked their magic once again on
both his body and his soul.
Qui-Gon's body all but jumped off the bed as Obi-Wan's mouth closed over his
straining cock, but those hands were still there, calming him with a touch, and
he relaxed into the gentle torment of the warmth that enveloped him. He glanced
down, panting heavily, and had to close his eyes against the sight of his
padawan's head bent over him, lips stretched around the fullness of his
erection, giving him pleasure. Qui-Gon's fingers slid through the malleable
softness of the younger man's hair, silently urging, silently pleading, and
Obi-Wan heard the words not spoken with perfect clarity, sliding one finger
back along the smooth skin behind Qui-Gon's heavy testicles to nudge at his
master's opening.
Qui-Gon's mouth opened on a soundless cry as that slender finger pushed into
him, followed closely by another. He spread his thighs, encouraging further
penetration, as his devilishly clever padawan made love to him, playing on his
body's responses to bring him into a screaming climax that seemed to shake the
foundations of the world around him. When it was over, he lay back gasping, his
eyes fixed on the high arching stone of the ceiling above him.
"Obi-Wan," he sighed, as the mattress dipped beside him and a slender body
nestled tightly against his side, warming him. His arms closed automatically
around his padawan and pulled him close. Absently, he kicked off the leggings
that were still pooled around his ankles.
"I love you, Master."
Qui-Gon did not respond immediately, as his breathing slowly returned to
normal. After a few more moments of silence had passed, he said, "It's only six
months, my love. Not forever."
Silence greeted his statement, and he turned his head, meeting the distraught
gaze of two shadowed blue eyes. Qui-Gon felt a reflection of the younger man's
despair echo through his own heart, and he wondered how he was going to survive
their parting when the morning came. These next few months were going to be
hard on them both - it was never easy when he had to leave on a mission, and
this one was going to be harder than most. Of course Obi-Wan had come to accept
the fact that his master's life was not his own, that he had devoted his life
to pursuing peacekeeping missions for the Jedi, but this would be the longest
stretch of time that they had been forced to be apart since Obi-Wan had first
come to live in his master's home.
Obi-Wan's lips pressed together briefly before he said, "I still don't
understand why I can't come with you."
Qui-Gon sighed heavily. "You know the answer to that. You are not yet of age."
The unspoken knowledge hung clear in the air between them, that missions such
as these were dangerous, and that each time Qui-Gon left there was a chance he
might not make it back. It was not a situation that an underaged padawan would
ever be exposed to.
"I don't care." Obi-Wan's tone was desolate. "Who's going to look after you?"
That brought the faintest of smiles to Qui-Gon's lips, offsetting the ache in
his heart. "I *will*
return to you."
Obi-Wan's eyes flared in the soft glow of the lamplight, giving his expression
a fierce edge, hinting at the hidden strength of the man he would one day be.
He rested his chin possessively on Qui-Gon's stomach, holding the older man's
gaze steadily. "Promise me," he said softly, the words the barest brush of air
across the hairs of Qui-Gon's chest. "Promise you'll come back to me."
Qui-Gon felt a curious stinging in his eyes at those words. He brushed one
finger softly against his padawan's cheek, trying to soothe them both.
"I promise," he said.
The fire in Obi-Wan's eyes diminished then to a more manageable level, although
the tension did not entirely leave his frame. With a sigh, he folded in against
Qui-Gon's side, wrapping his arms around his master's ribs. Qui-Gon held him,
breathing softly into the younger man's hair.
Before the morning, he knew that they would make love again.
***** Moments Under the Sun #5: Though Darkness Falls *****
Obi-Wan lay back in the darkness and stared at the towering concavity of the
ceiling above him. The elegantly painted murals of ripe blossoms and summer
vines seemed to come alive against the pale stone, gaining dimension and
solidity under the layers of shifting moonlight that suffused the room. 

The bed he lay in seemed ridiculously large around him, its sheets soft against
his freshly scrubbed skin. Even the air was uncomfortably cool as it wafted
over him, scented sweetly by the touch of the garden outside the open window.
He supposed he should be used to it by now - this was, after all, the third
week that Qui-Gon had been away on the mission to Tantavia - but still he
couldn't shake the feeling that he was an intruder here, alone in the vast
majesty of his master's bed. He always felt that way, when he was left behind. 

Slowly, he trailed one palm up along the line of his chest, shivering as it
passed over the peaked hardness of his nipple. Qui-Gon had touched him somewhat
like this the last time they'd lain together. If he closed his eyes, it was
easy enough to imagine that Qui-Gon was here with him now, solid weight pressed
up against him, skin to skin. The thought made Obi-Wan shiver again, more
deeply this time. 

It was amazing, really, how swiftly his body had become accustomed to his
master's touch over the past couple of years. It had been ages since he'd even
thought about the fact that he was a slave in his master's bed, a Jedi padawan
bought and paid for by one of the most prominent Jedi diplomats that the world
had ever known. He never really felt like *property* when he was with Qui-Gon,
no matter how many times he reminded himself that the word "padawan" was the
equivalent of "bedslave". Whenever Qui-Gon used the word, it sounded like an
endearment, a term of boundless affection, as if it held an entirely different
meaning when it passed his master's lips. 

Everything about the world seemed different when he was with Qui- Gon. 

Obi-Wan felt his breathing quicken, and he smiled, remembering what it had felt
like to have his master's hands on him. He skimmed his fingers over his body,
pressing lightly with his nails, and closed his eyes against the yawning
emptiness of the room around him. So easy to imagine that these were Qui-Gon's
hands on him, touching him, stroking him, igniting the slow fire of desire
within him. "Master," he whispered, and the sound made his heartbeat speed
inside his chest. 

He writhed gently under the phantom Qui-Gon's touch, and the air around him
grew warm, caressing, enfolding him in the scent and memory of Qui-Gon Jinn.
Obi-Wan gave into the need to touch the swollen flesh between his legs with a
low groan, lifting his hips off of the sheets, and he gasped softly, tipping
his head back as the pleasure slid sinuously through him. He cupped the soft
weight of his balls in one hand and started a tender stroking rhythm on his
erection that quickly brought him to the edge of remembered passion, and he
cried out softly into the vast darkness of the room, whispering his master's
name. 

His body moved fluidly in time with the movements of his hand, well-trained in
the rhythms that would bring it pleasure, and he pressed himself harder,
faster, needing release, *desperate* for it. His body resisted him, and he
gritted his teeth in anguish, panting his frustration into the air. He spread
his thighs widely, hips moving determinedly, and pressed at his opening with
one slender finger, imagining in his mind's eye that it was Qui- Gon's hand,
Qui-Gon's tender invasion into his willing body. 

"Oh, gods, yes," he breathed, feeling dizzy with the force of his arousal, the
force of his need. Qui-Gon would touch him just like this, wanting him, needing
him, and he would move like this - just like this - under his master's touch.
And Qui-Gon would touch him, and kiss him, and tell him how much he was loved,
how much he was cherished, how much Qui-Gon depended on him for every breath
that he took... 

Obi-Wan keened loudly as the pleasure flooded loose within him, and it was Qui-
Gon's name that echoed through his mind as he fell slowly down from the edge of
his passion. Good, it felt so very good to know this kind of pleasure, but when
it was over it left him feeling drained, lost, and more than a little empty. 

He lay there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling above him, before he
finally pulled the largest of Qui-Gon's pillows close to him and curled his
body around it. He closed his eyes, feeling the prickling of tears along the
edges of his lashes, and inhaled deeply, breathing in his master's scent. 

Six weeks. Six more weeks of this and then Qui-Gon would come home. 

He wondered suddenly where Qui-Gon was at this very moment, and if maybe he was
lying awake thinking about Obi-Wan lying alone in his large bed. The thought
made Obi-Wan smile slightly, and some of the emptiness seemed to fade away from
him. 

He cuddled closer to the pillow and sighed heavily, feeling the need for sleep
steal over him. Outside the windows, the low drone of the cicadas was lulling,
and he allowed himself to relax into it, remembering the first night he had
spent here. And suddenly it didn't seem so much of a fantasy that Qui-Gon *was*
here with him, in every way that truly mattered. Qui-Gon was here, in his
heart, in his thoughts, and in a way, that meant he was never truly alone. 

Obi-Wan shifted slightly against the pillows, finding a comfortable position,
and closed his eyes, feeling the night breeze brush like a lover's breath
across his skin. 

And waited for his master to return. 

  The End 1/30/01  
***** Moments Under the Sun #6: And the Sun Also Rises *****
Obi-Wan held the edges of the blanket tightly as he billowed it out through the
air, carefully setting it down so that it covered the small patch of grass he
had chosen at the crest of the hill. The sun was bright overhead, warming the
skin on the back of his neck, and he smiled, humming softly under his breath as
he worked to empty the picnic basket he'd packed for them. 

Qui-Gon was standing nearby tending to the horses, watching him with a small
smile on his face. ÝWith a last affectionate pat to the side of his grey mare's
neck, he came forward to join Obi-Wan on the blanket. 

"Smells good," he murmured appreciatively, sitting down beside Obi-Wan on the
ground and crossing his legs in front of him. ÝHe reached out to tug gently at
the hair framing his young padawan's face. Ý"Did you cook this yourself?" 

Obi-Wan flushed slightly under his master's praise, ducking his head away as he
reached for the platter of cold meats and fresh bread that he'd baked just that
morning. ÝThe rich aroma of the food made his mouth water in anticipation, but
he served Qui-Gon first, filling his master's plate high before moving to fill
his own. 

"Yes," he said, secretly pleased to have earned Qui-Gon's approval. ÝTheir
relationship was still new enough where he wasn't always sure where he stood
with Qui-Gon, and any sign that he was fulfilling his duties adequately was a
welcome reassurance. 

"Obi-Wan." ÝQui-Gon's voice was soft, but the tone of it made Obi-Wan look up
hurriedly. ÝThe older man's gaze was unfathomable, his eyes dark blue in the
light of the afternoon sun. 

"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan said uncertainly. 

Qui-Gon's eyes seemed very deep to him suddenly, so deep that Obi-Wan might
drown in them if he wasn't careful. ÝThey were full of emotions that Obi-Wan
couldn't quite put a name to. 

Without saying anything further, Qui-Gon reached for Obi-Wan and pulled him
back against his chest, wrapping his arms around the younger man's body and
resting his chin on the top of his head. Obi-Wan leaned back against him and
sighed, feeling the tension drain out of him. 

"That's better," Qui-Gon sighed, kissing Obi-Wan's hair lightly. 

Obi-Wan smiled, feeling his earlier misgivings break apart and crumble into the
warming air. ÝIt never ceased to amaze him how very much his master seemed to
see about the inner workings of his mind and heart. ÝAll it ever took was the
slightest uncertainty or fear on his part, and Qui-Gon was there for him,
offering reassurance. 

They ate their meal in a leisurely fashion, speaking little, simply enjoying
each other's company. ÝIn the valley below them, a broad lake glimmered
brightly in the sun, drawing Obi-Wan's gaze. ÝVarious small birds clustered
around its shore, calling softly to each other over the breeze. 

"We can go swimming after we eat, if you'd like." ÝQui-Gon's voice was a warm
breath at his ear. 

Obi-Wan glanced back at him and nodded. Ý"I'd like that, Master." 

Qui-Gon smiled and touched his face lightly. Ý"Then we shall do so." 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes as Qui-Gon leaned down to kiss him, feeling the warmth
of that simple contact shiver straight down into his toes. ÝHe leaned into Qui-
Gon's body with a quiet sigh, feeling warmly contented. 

After their meal, Obi-Wan carefully packed their things back into the basket
and then set it aside under the shade of the tree. Qui-Gon was crouched by the
edge of the lake by the time he'd finished, dipping one hand slowly into the
water to test its temperature. 

Obi-Wan paused for a moment before going down to join him. ÝIn the sunlight,
his master looked absolutely regal, long hair tied back from the sides of his
face to fall in a thin tail over the backs of his shoulders, exposing the
strong planes of his face. The tunic he wore clung to the hard muscles of his
back and arms, giving him a remarkably solid appearance that would have
frightened Obi-Wan at one point in his life. ÝNow, it just made him feel proud
that he would have a master of such uncommon beauty. ÝHe felt the love surge in
him as he stared down at Qui- Gon's bent head, and he knew with startling
suddenness that he would do anything -- anything at all -- for this man,
without objection. ÝThe thought was humbling. 

Qui-Gon looked up and met his gaze with a small smile. ÝHis eyes were vividly
blue in the sunlight. Ý"Are you coming, Obi-Wan?" 

Shaking off the weight of his thoughts, Obi-Wan moved to join him, stripping
out of his tunic as he went. ÝHe could feel Qui- Gon's eyes on him, and the
thought warmed him, making him smile. He knew that Qui-Gon found him
beautiful. 

He left his clothes lying in a small pile on the shore of the lake and then
stepped forward into the water, eager to begin his swim. ÝThe water was cool
despite the warmth of the sun that shone down on it, and he shivered slightly
as he felt it lap against his naked skin. 

He swam with strong strokes for several moments, enjoying the ease of the
movements, feeling his muscles react favorably to the light exertion. ÝWhen he
stopped, the water had risen to about mid-chest level, and he dunked down
briefly beneath the surface to wet himself thoroughly. ÝHe came up laughing,
shaking his head to clear away the water that clung to it. ÝOn the shore behind
him, Qui-Gon was stripping out of his own clothes, and his eyes were bright
with amusement at his padawan's antics as he moved into the water. 

As soon as he'd reached sufficient depth, Qui-Gon dived neatly, and Obi-Wan
caught a glimpse of his master's pale buttocks and thighs as he disappeared
beneath the surface. ÝA few moments later, Obi-Wan gasped as a hand closed
around his ankle, startling him. 

He was grinning when Qui-Gon came up beside him. ÝQui-Gon's eyes met his with
barely subdued laughter, and Obi-Wan slid his arms around his neck impulsively,
leaning in to capture his mouth in a kiss. 

Qui-Gon responded eagerly, warm tongue sliding in against his own. ÝObi-Wan
felt like he was flying, and his heart was beginning to pound fitfully by the
time he pulled away. 

Qui-Gon slid a hand down his arm, making him shiver. Ý"Beautiful padawan," he
murmured, and Obi-Wan felt the warmth of his master's approval move through him
in a heady rush of joy. 

He could feel that Qui-Gon was hard against his hip. ÝFeeling suddenly reckless
and brave, Obi-Wan dipped a hand down beneath the surface of the water to touch
him, stroking his fingers lightly along his master's rigid length. 

Qui-Gon gasped softly at the contact, and Obi-Wan watched in avid fascination
as he caught his lower lip firmly between his teeth, his eyes darkening. ÝHe
nudged his hips forward encouragingly into Obi-Wan's touch. 

Encouraged, Obi-Wan gripped him more tightly, feeling his own arousal heighten.
ÝHe felt seized by a strange sense of power as he stroked at his master's
erection, feeling the thickness of that firm flesh sliding sensuously in his
hand. ÝQui-Gon's breaths were deepening, becoming more rhythmic, and he kissed
Obi-Wan's shoulder, pressing lightly with his teeth. 

"Here," Qui-Gon whispered to him, and Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's large fingers
wrapping around him, showing him what he wanted. "This way." 

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw on a groan as Qui-Gon slid a hand down over his
backside, urging him to lift his legs up around the older man's thighs. ÝObi-
Wan wrapped his legs around him eagerly, and he caught his breath hard when
Qui-Gon nudged his own erection forward, wrapping Obi-Wan's fingers around them
both. He tightened his hand around Obi-Wan's so that Obi-Wan was stroking both
of them at the same time. ÝThe sensation was incredible, and Obi-Wan dropped
his head forward against Qui- Gon's shoulder, feeling his legs go suddenly
weak. 

Instantly, Qui-Gon's arm was around his waist, supporting him. His other hand
remained around Obi-Wan's, stroking with him, and Obi-Wan moaned again, unable
to hold it back this time. 

"That's it, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered, nuzzling in against the side of Obi-
Wan's face to kiss his ear. Ý"Let me hear you." ÝHis voice was low and husky
with the strength of his arousal. 

Obi-Wan keened softly as the pressures within him grew. ÝHe moved his hips
rhythmically into the cupped tunnel of his and Qui-Gon's hands, rubbing his
cheek against Qui-Gon's chest. ÝQui-Gon held him tightly, supporting him,
encouraging him, and he could feel the tension vibrating in Qui-Gon's body as
well, proof of the arousal that consumed them both. ÝQui-Gon's breath was a
harsh rasp in his ear, and Obi-Wan shuddered as Qui-Gon nipped at his shoulder
again, tightening his fingers around their joined erections. 

He felt the pleasure of each movement of their hands slide sinuously beneath
the surface of his skin, warming him. ÝThe water didn't feel cool at all
anymore; in fact, it felt downright hot, and he was burning up, burning up in
the heat of the man who held him, the man whose life he was inextricably bound
up in, master and slave, lover and loved. ÝHe felt inexplicably grateful
suddenly that he could be here, experiencing this moment between them. ÝBecause
he belonged here, in this man's arms. ÝThere wasn't anywhere else in the world
he would rather be. 

He tensed with a soft cry, and Qui-Gon's arm tightened immediately around his
waist, holding him up when he would have fallen. ÝObi-Wan clung tightly to Qui-
Gon as he came, trusting his master to hold him. ÝQui-Gon's breath hitched, and
Obi-Wan reflexively tightened his grip around Qui-Gon's penis, wanting him to
share this experience with him. ÝA moment later, Qui-Gon stiffened and moaned,
long and low, as his body pumped out its pleasure in the water next to Obi-
Wan's. 

Obi-Wan's feet slowly sank back down to the floor of the lake, and they stood
there for a minute, just holding each other and feeling the sun beat down on
their backs. ÝObi-Wan sighed in contentment, wishing with sudden, irrational
fervor that this moment would never have to end. 

But then Qui-Gon was guiding him gently back toward the shore, and Obi-Wan
acquiesced without a word, leaning limply against his master's side as he went.
ÝHe felt irresistibly sleepy suddenly, and Qui-Gon's body was a welcome
strength next to his own. ÝThe grass was soft under his feet as Qui-Gon led him
back up the hill and into the shade of the tree. 

Qui-Gon's eyes were smiling as he laid down on the grass, pulling Obi-Wan down
beside him. ÝObi-Wan met his gaze and smiled, stretching luxuriously as the
heat of the sun seeped into his cooling skin. 

"Sleep, Padawan," Qui-Gon said to him, pulling Obi-Wan's head down onto his
chest. ÝObi-Wan curled up beside him willingly, draping an arm around his
master's waist and snuggling up against his side. Ý"We'll swim more later,
before we go home." 

Pleased by this promise, Obi-Wan let his eyes drift closed. ÝThe scents of
earth and grass and sun rose up around him, mingling with the familiar musk of
his master's skin. ÝHe breathed it all in deeply, letting the comfort of it
move through him, carrying his thoughts away as sleep stole over him. 

It was days like this that made him wish the summer would never end. 

The End 10/31/01
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