
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4225932.
  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, Alternate_Universe, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without
      Plot, First_Time, Romance
  Series:
      Part 1 of In_Search_of_the_Sun_by_Rushlight
  Collections:
      Chains:_The_Powerfic_Archive
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-28 Words: 7681
****** In Search of the Sun ******
by chains_archivist
Summary
     by Rushlight
     Qui-Gon buys a young Obi-Wan as a bedslave. (note: This is an AU that
     bears little resemblance to the Jedi universe that we know from TPM.)

     Warnings: This story contains an UNDERAGE Obi-Wan, so please, if this
     squicks you, then read no further!
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.
     --
     Author's Notes: This is my very first attempt at writing underage
     slash fiction, so any heartfelt encouragement and/or constructive
     criticism will be welcomed with open arms. :)
"Stand up straight, boy. You want the masters to think you're weak?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi blushed lightly under the harsh words and straightened his back,
lifting his chin slightly to meet the hard grey gaze of the crèche-master. Adel
had been his ward since he was six months old, when Obi-Wan's family had handed
him over into the care of the Jedi. He was the only authority-figure that Obi-
Wan had ever known.

Adel pinched Obi-Wan's cheeks a bit to bring out the color in them, and then
Obi-Wan was ushered out of the low barracks building that had been his home for
as long as he could remember. The sunlight was glaring as he stepped outside,
the fragmented stone of the courtyard shimmering in the light as if it had been
paved with broken glass. Obi-Wan stared at it as if he had never seen any of it
before in his life, drinking in the muted green canopy of the shade trees that
blanketed the front yard and thinking that he had never seen anything more
beautiful.

"Move along, now." Adel propelled him along the narrow walkway toward the front
green, where the other children who had come of age were gathered. The masters
were already here, moving among the small throng of young people like shoppers
inspecting wares at the bazaar.

Obi-Wan had always known that it was his lot in life to be purchased as a
padawan. The word meant

"bedslave" in the ancient tongue, and it was the favored description for what
Obi-Wan's kind - orphans too young to fend for themselves, or children whose
parents were too stricken by poverty to support them - were destined to be. The
Jedi never turned anyone away, as long as they were under the age of choosing
and were physically capable of performing the duties that would be required of
them.

Obi-Wan's eyes passed nervously over the assembled masters. Which one would
choose him? His gaze fell without his volition on a dark-skinned man who was on
one knee, conversing with a trio of young girls no older than Obi-Wan. The man
looked incredibly huge to Obi-Wan's young eyes, huge and forbidding. Obi-Wan
felt an involuntary shiver as he imagined those large hands moving over his
skin, stroking him, claiming him, and he dropped his gaze hurriedly onto the
grass in front of his feet, feeling his face flush.

He knew perfectly well what a padawan's duty was. He had been prepared for it
from a young age,

theoretically. He had never been touched in that way, however, and while he had
been trained in the

ways of obedience, he truly did not know what to expect from such a joining.
All the book knowledge in the world could not prepare him for the reality of
finally coming of age to join the ranks of those who stood in line to be
chosen.

A shadow fell across his vision then, and he looked up, startled to see that
one of the masters had

approached him without his noticing. For a moment, fear pounded through him,
but then he remembered his training and bowed slightly, hoping the man would
not be able to sense his unease.

"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice shaking only slightly. He
lowered his eyes

respectfully, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the ground between them.

The man lowered himself to one knee, much as the dark man had done, and
observed Obi-Wan in silence for a moment before speaking. "Is this your first
Choosing, young one?"

His voice was low and somehow soothing, and Obi-Wan tentatively lifted his
gaze. His breath caught as he took in the sight of the man, whom he had only
just glimpsed against the sun. The master was smiling, his sharply defined face
dominated by two warm blue eyes and framed by a fall of cinnamon hair, touched
just slightly by the first intimations of silver. It was a proud face, kind,
with lines around the eyes that suggested a tendency toward laughter. Obi-Wan
found himself smiling in response, and the rapid beating of his heart slowed
down a notch or two.

"Yes, Master," he answered, ducking his head shyly. 

The man's smile turned softly sympathetic. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen." It was the minimum age that children were admitted to the greens.
Most were purchased

within their first year, but even the unwanted ones were found work as
houseslaves or fieldslaves

eventually. No child of the crèche was ever without a home for long.

For a moment, the master just looked at him, his gaze caressing. Then, "I'm
Qui-Gon Jinn. What's your name?"

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment before he found the wits to speak. "Obi-Wan
Kenobi, Master," he said at last.

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled again. There was something almost sad about it, and Obi-Wan
was struck by the sudden impulse to comfort the man.

"Are you looking for a padawan?" he asked, not knowing where his sudden courage
to speak was coming from. When one of Qui-Gon's brows lifted questioningly, he
hastily added, "I've seen you here before, sometimes. We can see the green from
the barracks windows, and we'd watch sometimes, trying to see who was being
chosen."

"And what did you and your friends see?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice soft. He
didn't sound angry at

Obi-Wan's confession; on the contrary, he sounded intrigued.

Obi-Wan licked his lips nervously, captivated by that intense blue gaze. "You
came here often, but you never left with a padawan, Master." He let the
question enter into his voice.

"Perhaps I didn't feel I was ready for a padawan." There was sudden solemnity
in Qui-Gon's voice. His eyes were serious as he held Obi-Wan's gaze. "It is an
awesome responsibility, to take charge of such a young life in this way."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I suppose it would be. But..."

"But?" Qui-Gon's eyebrow quirked again, urging him to continue.

"You seem so lonely." As soon as the words left his mouth, Obi-Wan wanted to
bite his tongue. Who did he think he was, talking to a master that way? If Adel
heard him, he'd box Obi-Wan's ears for sure. Respect for the masters was the
primary lesson that was taught here in the crèche.

But Qui-Gon took no offense at the perceived familiarity of the observation. He
regarded Obi-Wan with a weighing stare, and then his face relaxed into another
of his soft smiles. "I suppose I am, at that." Raising one hand, he tentatively
moved to brush the hair away from Obi-Wan's eyes. He

hesitated for a moment more, then asked, "Would you like to come home with me,
Obi-Wan? I have a large estate, big rooms, lots of open ground for a boy to run
around in. I'll be away a great deal, doing work for the Jedi, but there are
servants who live with me, so you'll never be alone."

Obi-Wan stared, his heartbeat escalating. Was Qui-Gon offering to buy him? Was
he actually asking Obi-Wan's *permission*? For a moment, he couldn't think what
to say, but then he was nodding, swallowing the lump in his throat as he made
his decision. "Yes," he said, and it came out as little more than a whisper.
Chosen on his first day? The thought made him lightheaded with excitement and
sudden fear.

Qui-Gon touched him lightly on the head as he rose to his feet, then moved off
to find Adel. Obi-Wan watched with wide eyes as the money changed hands, and he
flushed under the heavy, approving look that Adel sent in his direction. Qui-
Gon spoke to the crèche-master for a few moments, asking questions about his
new purchase perhaps, and then he came back across the green toward Obi-Wan.

"That's done," the master said, resting one hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and
squeezing gently through the thin fabric of his shirt. "Let's go home, shall
we?"

===============================================================================
 

Qui-Gon's estate was as grand as had been promised. Obi-Wan's eyes widened as
their coach crossed the wide stone bridge onto Qui-Gon's land. The road here
was framed on either side by tall, dark trees, their branches leaning over the
road and interlocking overhead. Obi-Wan had never been outside the crèche
before in his life, and the sight was awesome to his admittedly biased gaze.

The road passed through the heart of several interconnected gardens, making
Obi-Wan itch to explore the winding paths that he saw. Qui-Gon regarded him
fondly, completely charmed by the innocent appraisal in the boy's gaze.

Obi-Wan was introduced to the house servants first. He suffered through the
introductions stoically, one hand clasped inside Qui-Gon's larger one, and
stayed close to his new master's side. He wondered what these people thought
when they saw him, the young boy brought into their household as the master's
new bedtoy, but he sensed only genuine welcome and friendliness in the words of
greeting that they offered to him.

Qui-Gon had two hunting dogs, Ralif and Kain. They were large mastiffs,
grizzled and grey, but Obi-Wan was comforted by the obvious adoration with
which they greeted their newly arrived master. As soon as Qui-Gon introduced
him, they approached Obi-Wan with equal fervor, and Obi-Wan laughed as he was
assaulted by a dual wave of warm, furry bodies and welcoming tongues. Each
animal was almost as large as he was, and he was quickly borne to the ground by
their ecstatic greeting.

After Qui-Gon had rescued him from the enthusiasm of the dogs, they moved into
the parlor for a quick breakfast. Obi-Wan kept his eyes lowered as they ate the
warm bread and sweet fruits that had been laid out for them, and Qui-Gon seemed
to take pleasure in the challenge of drawing him out of his shell. Soon Obi-Wan
found himself talking avidly about his experiences in the crèche, the friends
he had made there, the fun times he had had.

Afterwards, they went outside, and Qui-Gon began on a tour of the gardens. Obi-
Wan was awed by the immensity of this place that was his new home, and the
beauty of the gardens astounded him. Qui-Gon walked slowly at his side, talking
long into the afternoon about his work in the Senate. He had a reputation as
one of the Jedi's most able negotiators, and while his work was oftentimes
difficult, he found it very rewarding.

Before Obi-Wan knew it, the sun was dipping below the western horizon with a
touch like rose-kissed fire. He felt a sudden chill as he remembered the
purpose of his station here, and the joy that he had felt throughout the day
melted away as if it were as fleeting as the light that slowly bled away around
him. His throat was dry as he followed Qui-Gon into the house to prepare for
bed.

To his surprise, Obi-Wan was left to his own devices as his master bathed, and
then he was left alone when he was encouraged to do the same. Comforted
somewhat by the lack of intimacy that he had so feared, he cleaned himself
efficiently and then dressed in the loose sleep pants that the servants had set
out for him.

Qui-Gon's bedchamber was a large, open room with wide doors opening out onto
the garden outside. The doors were slightly ajar now, letting in the night
breezes and filling the room with the scent of wild flowers. Obi-Wan's eyes
were wide as he took in the room's magnificence, his gaze skimming over the
softly hued stone of the walls, the ornamental pillars that stood against the
far wall, the yawning fireplace that was empty and cold on this warm summer
night. The smooth marble floor felt cold under his feet.

Qui-Gon's hand fell lightly onto his shoulder, and Obi-Wan jumped slightly as
he felt the palm brush his bare skin. He looked up into his master's eyes and
saw nothing but kindness there, and he did his best to quiet the tremors that
were threatening to shiver through him. There was nothing to be scared about,
he told himself firmly. Nothing at all.

The smile Qui-Gon favored him with had a touch of sadness to it. "Come to bed,
Obi-Wan," he said quietly.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and obeyed, following his master across the room to
the large bed. The sheets were the color of seashells, and when Obi-Wan reached
out tentatively to touch them, they felt soft as birds' wings under his
fingers. Feeling Qui-Gon's eyes on him, he crawled gamely into their soft
embrace, sliding under the covers and sighing as the satiny material slid
against his skin.

Qui-Gon followed him a moment later, and the look in his eyes was serious as he
met Obi-Wan's gaze. Obi-Wan was trembling now despite his best efforts, though
he bravely tried to meet his master's eyes.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice a soft
breath across Obi-Wan's face. "It would grieve me terribly if you were afraid
of me." He ran one finger lightly over Obi-Wan's brow and down across his
cheek, holding the young boy's gaze steadily. "When you are ready, my little
one," he said gently, "then I will make you mine."

Obi-Wan smiled hesitantly, and then Qui-Gon bent to kiss him, the softest brush
of lips. Exhaling

heavily, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to relax. Qui-Gon
wasn't going to claim him. Not tonight. The feeling of relief that washed
through him was so profound that it brought tears to his eyes, and he could
feel the dampness on his lashes as he burrowed in close to his master's chest.
Qui-Gon's arms closed around him, holding him close.

Surrounded by the warm strength of Qui-Gon's body, Obi-Wan lost himself in the
scent of his master's hair, and slept.

===============================================================================
 

The days passed, and still Qui-Gon made no move to claim the body of his new
padawan. Obi-Wan began to relax into his new position, despite the fears that
still lingered in the back of his mind, and he began to find his place within
the life and breath of Qui-Gon's household. His days were spent in quiet labor,
helping the servants with their work around the house and gardens, and he fast
became a favorite among Qui-Gon's staff. The servants all adored him, and he
found it easy to urge extra sweets out of the cook in the afternoons, or
convince the stableboy to take him for rides in the evenings when Qui-Gon was
away.

At first, Obi-Wan dreaded the evenings, fearing that each night would be the
night when he would at last be taken, but Qui-Gon still did not come to him for
sex. They cuddled, they touched, they kissed sweetly in the still moments
before sleep overtook them, but no further demands were made other than the
comfort of Obi-Wan's presence. He began to look forward to these times, when he
felt enveloped in his master's love, cherished and valued and protected.

Qui-Gon insisted that Obi-Wan pursue his studies, so a great deal of Obi-Wan's
time was spent reading, or engaged in one-on-one sessions with the tutors that
Qui-Gon hired to teach him. History, art, music, poetry, ethics, literature,
politics... Obi-Wan disliked a number of the subjects that Qui-Gon chose for
him, but he did his best to learn them, because he knew it pleased his master
that he do so.

Most displeasing were those times when Qui-Gon was called away from his home on
business. The Jedi were able negotiators, and their wisdom was often called on
throughout the surrounding lands in these difficult times. Obi-Wan suffered
through his master's absence in stoic silence, continuing dutifully in his
chores and lessons, although Qui-Gon's absence pained him in ways that he could
not explain.

During these absences, he spent his nights curled up alone in his master's
large bed, his body twined around Qui-Gon's pillows so that he could inhale the
presence of his master that still clung like a lingering fragrance in the room.
At times, the dogs would join him, and the three of them would huddle together
in quiet misery waiting for their master to return.

And Qui-Gon always returned. He came bearing gifts from far distant lands,
which Obi-Wan was always sufficiently appreciative over, even though he felt
the greatest gift of all was to have Qui-Gon back at his side. He looked
forward to the day when he would be old enough to accompany Qui-Gon on these
excursions; the Jedi had strict rules about introducing padawans into
potentially hazardous situations until they had reached the age of
independence. At this time, they would be able to buy their freedom if they so
chose, and many opted to join the ranks of the Jedi who had raised them,
sometimes taking on padawans of their own.

In the secret depths of his heart, however, Obi-Wan didn't believe that he
would ever buy his freedom. He enjoyed being Qui-Gon's padawan, and he didn't
want their relationship to ever, ever change.

===============================================================================
 

Obi-Wan loved to serve his master in the evenings. It fast became his favorite
time of day, when all the servants had returned to their homes at the lower
slopes of the estate, and the entire house was empty save for the two of them.
Qui-Gon would generally sit on the chaise longue in the common room, or on the
furs in front of the fire during the colder months, while Obi-Wan brought him
his supper.

As always, he invited Obi-Wan to sit with him. The air was just slightly chill
this evening, warning of winter's inexorable approach, but it was enough for
Qui-Gon to choose the furs by the fire as his resting place while he waited for
Obi-Wan to bring his meal. Obi-Wan paused in the doorway of the large room,
caught for a moment by the sight that greeted him. Qui-Gon's hair fell loose
around his shoulders, his body wrapped in the heavy folds of his autumn robe.
His head was turned towards the fire as if he sought to find his providence in
the flickering flames. The shadows danced with sprightly abandon across his
bearded face, giving him an almost eerie countenance. He looked unaccountably
somber for a moment, and to Obi-Wan he was heartbreakingly beautiful.

Then Qui-Gon caught sight of Obi-Wan, and the spell was broken. With a small
gesture, he welcomed Obi-Wan into the room. Obi-Wan set the tray down on the
furs, and then sat beside him, tucking his legs under him and pouring his
master a drink from the chilled pitcher on the tray.

Qui-Gon held open one edge of his cloak, pulling Obi-Wan in against his side,
and Obi-Wan leaned against him with a contented sigh, meeting his master's gaze
with a shy smile. As was often the case lately, there were few words between
them, as if they had progressed beyond the point where words were necessary to
draw comfort from each other's presence. Qui-Gon nudged his face affectionately
with the bridge of his nose, making Obi-Wan giggle lightly. Then he began to
eat the food that Obi-Wan had prepared for him, offering choice bits to his
padawan.

"Tell me a story," Obi-Wan said, after their meal was completed. The tray had
been set aside, but instead of asking Obi-Wan to dispose of the dishes, Qui-Gon
had tucked the boy even deeper inside the folds of his robe and now sat staring
into the fire again, holding his padawan close.

"A story." Qui-Gon's expression turned thoughtful, and he nuzzled into the side
of his padawan's neck, his breath warm against Obi-Wan's skin. Inhaling deeply,
as if savoring the scent of the boy in his arms, he began to speak.

"A long time ago, beyond the outer rim, there was a nation of people who
devoted their entire lives to worship of the Sun. In their innocence, they
sought to harness the Sun's power, its light, its life, and in so doing, they
forgot what it was that made their lives worthwhile. Every waking moment was
spent in search of their goal, until they had abandoned everything they had
known before the obsession of the Sun fell upon them.

"One day, a great wizard came among them, and he bore a great gift. It was a
magical stone which he said harnessed the fire of the Sun. Using this artifact,
the people of the Sun grew in knowledge, but it was a power won without wisdom,
and a great calamity befell them. Somehow, the fire of the Sun escaped the
stone, and in a single day, the knowledge of loneliness was burned forever into
the hearts of men. The fire of the Sun they had so coveted was now forever
beyond their reach."

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment, pondering his master's words. "That
sounds like a metaphorical story," he said at last.

Qui-Gon kissed him lightly on top of the head. "It's a parable, Obi-Wan. Its
meaning is concealed in the words."

"What does it mean, then?"

For a moment, Qui-Gon was silent, his cheek resting against the soft fall of
hair at the top of his padawan's head. His gaze was locked on the flickering
tendrils of the fire. "It means that once you find your Sun-stone," he finally
said, "you have to be very careful with how you use it, lest its power be
forever lost to you. The Sun-seekers misused the gift that was given to them,
so the very fire that made that gift special was lost, irrevocably."

Obi-Wan thought about that for a long moment. "I still don't understand."

Qui-Gon hugged him tightly, pressing another kiss to the side of his face. "I
know." He sounded inexplicably sad for a moment, but then his voice shifted
into teacher-mode as he added, "You have to find your own meaning for it, Obi-
Wan. It's different for everyone. Just ask yourself, what is it that you seek?
What do you desire over all other things? And would you be willing to take it,
without waiting for wisdom? Or would you wait, and give the Sun the time it
needs to come to you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Qui-Gon stood, pulling Obi-Wan up beside him.
After resettling the drape of his cloak over Obi-Wan's shoulders, he drew the
boy with him into the inner rooms to get ready for bed.

Obi-Wan followed docilely, but his thoughts were still filled with his master's
words. The imagery of the Sun-fire refused to leave him, even as he lay curled
up beside his master's body in their bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.

===============================================================================
 

Obi-Wan grew. Qui-Gon watched the boy's development through admiring eyes,
enjoying the way the softness of youth slowly developed into the future promise
of the man he would one day be. Long, wiry limbs, made strong by countless
hours of physical exercise, skin bronzed to gold by exposure to the sun. Gods,
but the boy was beautiful. Qui-Gon could still remember his first glimpse of
the lad, there on the Choosing Green of the crèche, eyes wide and shining with
unshed tears as he watched the masters move around him, so small and lost and
vulnerable. Qui-Gon's heart had been lost at that moment, never to be reclaimed
again.

The boy was a match for him now in the strategy games Qui-Gon so loved to play
in the evenings. They would play for hours sometimes, sitting in front of the
fire as the day paled to twilight around them. Qui-Gon was delighted to find
that there was a keen mind inside that golden-furred head, a thriving
intelligence that thrilled at the challenge of matching wits with Qui-Gon Jinn.
He found the boy's company absolutely stimulating, and it did not surprise him
a bit when Obi-Wan began to discuss the latest treatises of the Old Republic in
the same breath he would use to describe his latest exploits in the gardens and
woods of their estate. Obi-Wan was growing as fine and sharp as a well-honed
blade under Qui-Gon's patient tutelage, and Qui-Gon felt as if he could burst
from pride and love for the boy.

Today, Obi-Wan was crouched by the edge of the pond in the summer garden, one
hand trailing languidly in the water so that the golden kai fish could kiss his
palm. Qui-Gon watched him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of him. Obi-
Wan was dressed in a loose shift that was well-suited to the weather in these
warm summer months, it pale color bringing out the rose color in his cheeks.
There were white flowers braided in his hair, and happiness fairly emanated
from the boy with a radiance all its own. Qui-Gon smiled as he moved forward
across the low stone walkway spanning the water.

"Master," Obi-Wan said, standing fluidly and taking his master's hands as Qui-
Gon reached for him. He tipped his head up when Qui-Gon bent to kiss him, and
as always, the taste of this bright young soul came near to bringing tears to
Qui-Gon's eyes. So young, so beautiful, so vulnerable and full of quiet love.
Qui-Gon believed that he could never drink his full of this captivating young
man.

"Would you like to ride with me in the woods today, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked. He
always asked, even though it was his right as Obi-Wan's master to command the
boy's obedience. The most alluring thing about Obi-Wan was the fact that he
served his master willingly, and Qui-Gon would not break that tender innocence
for all the world. It would be too easy to break the spirit of this one; he
gave of himself wholly, without hesitation and without regret. It was the
greatest gift that Qui-Gon could ever receive, the trust and love of this
beautiful young boy.

"Oh, yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, as Qui-Gon had known he would. His sea blue
eyes shone in the light of the sun. Excitement fairly thrummed from him in
visible waves; time alone with his master was as precious as diamonds to him, a
fact that never ceased to humble and amaze Qui-Gon. Once again, he thought of
how fortunate he was to have this boy be a part of his life.

Together, they moved toward the stables, and as he walked, a single thought
sang like music through Qui-Gon's mind.

*Gods above, I love him.*

===============================================================================
 

On the night of his fourteenth Nameday, Obi-Wan approached his master with a
question. Qui-Gon could sense it burning in him throughout the day-long
celebration he threw in the boy's honor. He was a favorite among Qui-Gon's
servants, and the love Obi-Wan's work-mates bore for him was evident in the
gifts that they showered on him. Obi-Wan accepted the attentions with good
graces, but there was a sadness underlying his enjoyment of the celebration
that cut to Qui-Gon's heart.

Later that night, Qui-Gon drew a bath for his melancholy padawan. The large,
claw-footed tub filled quickly with hot water and fragrant bubbles, and Obi-Wan
sank obediently enough into its musky depths, sighing as the water wrapped his
naked body in its tender embrace.

Qui-Gon knew how difficult it was for his padawan to give in to being coddled.
He much preferred to draw baths for his master, to scrub Qui-Gon's long body
with mounds of scented soap, to wash his thick hair and then rinse it clean
with streams of warm water from the tap. He could spend hours just combing his
master's hair, simply because he knew that it brought Qui-Gon pleasure. Once
again, Qui-Gon was struck by the knowledge that he was incredibly lucky to have
Obi-Wan for his padawan.

Qui-Gon bathed the boy in silence, but at last, he gave into the unvoiced plea
and shed his clothes, stepping gingerly into the hot water beside his padawan.
Some of the sadness left Obi-Wan's eyes at that, and Qui-Gon felt heartened by
the tender adulation that he saw in that blue-eyed gaze.

Obi-Wan sighed happily as he pulled out the tie from Qui-Gon's hair, combing
his fingers through the length of it to work out the tangles. Qui-Gon leaned
back against Obi-Wan's chest, closing his eyes in pleasure as soft kisses
traced the line of his jaw under his ear.

"What's troubling you, love?" Qui-Gon asked quietly, almost lost under the
soothing caresses of his padawan's hands. When almost a minute passed with no
response, he turned slightly in the water until he was facing Obi-Wan. "Tell
me," he encouraged gently, touched by the pain he saw in his padawan's
expression.

Obi-Wan's eyes were downcast. "Don't you find me pleasing, Master?"

Qui-Gon was startled by the question. "Of course I do, Obi-Wan." One hand moved
as if of its own accord to smooth down the side of the boy's face, caressing
softly. "Why do you ask?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, still not meeting Qui-Gon's eyes. "Because you
haven't ... haven't..."

Suddenly agitated, he burst out, "Don't you want me, Master?"

"More than life itself," Qui-Gon answered without hesitation, and Obi-Wan
finally found the courage to look at him. The faintest glimmer of tears clung
to the dark lace of the boy's lashes. Slowly, Qui-Gon moved to brush them away.
"You, Obi-Wan, are the most beautiful, most desirable, most pleasing companion
I could ever have hoped for. Never doubt that you are cherished. You hold a
place in my heart that no one else can ever fill."

Obi-Wan smiled shyly through his tears. "I love you, Master."

Qui-Gon's fingers fanned out across the side of his face, cupping Obi-Wan's
cheek lightly. "And I," he kissed the brow over one of his young ward's eyes,
"love," a kiss over the other eye, "you." A kiss on the lips then, firm
pressure yielding to a soft exhalation of need, and Obi-Wan gasped as he felt
the moist warmth of Qui-Gon's tongue flicker across his lips.

"Master," he whispered, his lips parting to admit his master's questing tongue.
Warm and soft, that velvet heat entered his mouth, tasting deeply. Obi-Wan
moaned, feeling his world fragment around him.

"My Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon returned. His fingers tightened slightly around Obi-Wan's
jaw.

"Why haven't you ever claimed me, then?" Obi-Wan asked, eyes closed, his
breathing shallow as he shivered under the softness of his master's touch.

Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile at the question. "I wanted to get to know you,
my young one. If all I'd wanted was a bed companion, I could have found that at
any brothel."

Wide eyes opened to look at him, silvery blue in the lamplight. "Do you know me
well enough yet, Master?" The words were the faintest brush of air across Qui-
Gon's face.

Qui-Gon trembled under the import of the question. "I wanted to wait for you to
come to me," he admitted softly, stroking his fingers along the line of Obi-
Wan's jaw. "I have no interest in taking an unwilling child to my bed. And you
were afraid of me, at first." Another soft kiss, brief and poignant. "Are you
ready yet, my young one?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, my master." Obi-Wan's eyes shone with quiet joy as he met his
master's lingering gaze.

Slow kisses then, drinking deeply of his padawan's essence, enjoying the soft,
moist warmth that opened so sweetly to him. Obi-Wan grew breathless under Qui-
Gon's touches, excitement building gradually in him as Qui-Gon made slow love
to his mouth, touching him lightly, hands stroking languidly over the boy's
flushed skin. He was so young, so passionate. Qui-Gon felt as if he were
drowning in the heat of his padawan's desire.

Very carefully, Qui-Gon rose and drew Obi-Wan out of the water. Keeping a light
hold on his padawan's arm, not wanting to break the contact between them, he
reached for one of the fluffy white towels folded beside the tub and wrapped
Obi-Wan in its comforting folds.

The boy looked so small suddenly, so innocent. Qui-Gon used the towel to dry
him with the utmost of care, as if he were as fragile as crystal and might
break at the slightest mishandling. Obi-Wan suffered stoically under his
master's ministrations, his eyes never leaving Qui-Gon's face. He smiled shyly
when Qui-Gon met his gaze.

"To bed now, my love," Qui-Gon said, once they were both dry and warm. Taking
Obi-Wan's hand in his own, he led the boy out of the bathing room and into the
adjoining bedchamber. Moonlight spilled in through the wide veranda windows,
filling the room with caressing silver light. It provided enough illumination
where Qui-Gon did not feel the need to light a lamp.

That perfect light caught in Obi-Wan's eyes as they both slid under the sheets,
hands searching for and then finding each other once they were securely
ensconced underneath their satiny embrace. Obi-Wan's eyes were wide and dazed
as Qui-Gon's hands moved over his skin, his expression one of absolute wonder,
reminding Qui-Gon anew that he had never in his life been touched this way.

Qui-Gon could not resist the impulse to kiss those waiting lips, chastely at
first, and then with rising passion, and the small sounds that escaped Obi-
Wan's throat increased Qui-Gon's own excitement to the point where it was an
effort not to just rub himself to completion against that willing body. Obi-
Wan's lashes were dark against the pale skin of his cheeks, his breathing
labored as he panted lightly into Qui-Gon's mouth.

"You are beautiful," Qui-Gon murmured against open lips, licking softly across
their swollen curves, and he gasped slightly as Obi-Wan's tongue rose
tentatively to meet him. So beautiful, and had he ever known such desire as
this, holding this boy in his arms?

"You're the beautiful one," Obi-Wan whispered, his hands moving up the slopes
of Qui-Gon's arms, slowly at first, and then with increasing confidence. Qui-
Gon allowed the exploration, encouraging it with small nips and kisses across
his padawan's neck. He couldn't seem to keep his hands still; they wanted to be
everywhere, and now that he had finally allowed himself to give in to the siren
song of his padawan's body, he was eager to become acquainted with every inch
of it.

Qui-Gon slid his fingers down the length of Obi-Wan's spine, stroking deeply
and drawing a shuddering breath out of his trembling padawan. Obi-Wan lay his
head against his master's chest, breathing deeply, his fingers tightening
almost painfully around Qui-Gon's arms.

"Relax," Qui-Gon chastised lightly, bending to nip at the tempting curve of the
boy's tender ear. This drew another small gasp, and he smiled slightly.

"Love you, Master," Obi-Wan whispered against his chest. His hands released
Qui-Gon's arms to fist in the sheets around of him, white-knuckled from the
tension in his small frame. "Want you." His tongue darted out to swipe at Qui-
Gon's left nipple.

Qui-Gon's vision went hazy for a moment under that erotic caress, and his hand
moved to cup Obi-Wan's smooth bottom, pulling their bodies closer together. His
breath hitched as he felt the heat of his padawan's slender erection press
against his own.

Obi-Wan whimpered softly, and a strangled sound escaped his throat as Qui-Gon's
finger slid into the cleft of his buttocks, moving lightly over the small
opening there. Obi-Wan arched back into the touch with a low groan, and the
fingers of Qui-Gon's other hand combed through his damp hair, soothing him.

"Easy," Qui-Gon said, although he was trembling nearly as badly as his padawan.
Reaching into the darkness behind him, he pulled away from Obi-Wan's welcoming
form long enough to fetch the small vial of oil from the bedside drawer. Obi-
Wan made a small sound of protest at the loss of contact and then sighed as
Qui-Gon's body found his again under the sheets.

Qui-Gon returned to his exploration of Obi-Wan's body, bending to taste again
of that delectable mouth. The boy tasted like sunlight, and he opened to Qui-
Gon with all the passion of his tender heart. When Qui-Gon's hand found his
backside again, he bucked sharply, giving an open-mouthed cry against his
master's lips.

"Shh, my love," Qui-Gon said to him, smiling down into wide blue eyes. Obi-
Wan's expression was dazed, and Qui-Gon kissed him lightly on the bridge of his
nose, a tender gesture. Very carefully, he unstoppered the vial in his hands
and dipped one finger into the golden liquid, moving to work his oiled digit
into the cleft of Obi-Wan's buttocks.

"Relax, love," Qui-Gon murmured, his own body tensing as his finger nudged up
against that virgin opening. Sweet gods, but the boy was tight. The thought
sent a flare of lust arcing towards his groin, and he bit back a low moan as he
patiently worked his finger inside.

Obi-Wan had gone still in his arms, his breathing shallow. Glancing down, Qui-
Gon saw that the boy's eyes were tightly shut, lashes dark as ashes against his
cheeks. His lips were parted, and as Qui-Gon watched, the tip of his tongue
darted out to moisten his full bottom lip.

"Are you all right?" Qui-Gon asked. This was little more than a whisper. Qui-
Gon continued his slow invasion of his padawan's body, removing his finger for
a moment so that he could add more oil.

"Oh, Master." Obi-Wan's voice was choked. The eyes he opened to Qui-Gon's avid
gaze were glazed with need, his expression rapturous as his body gave way to
Qui-Gon's steady claiming. His cheeks were flushed with arousal, golden hair
curling damply against the side of his face. Unable to resist, Qui-Gon kissed
him, drawing that seductive bottom lip into his mouth and worrying it between
his teeth, drawing forth another low gasp from his padawan.

Finally, Qui-Gon's finger found its way fully inside the sheath of his
padawan's body, and Qui-Gon sank his teeth lightly into the skin of the boy's
shoulder, groaning low in his throat. Twisting his hand just slightly, he
reached for the spot that he knew was there, and even as he stroked for it,
Obi-Wan convulsed in his arms with a sharp cry, his hands clutching
spasmodically at Qui-Gon's arms.

"Master," Obi-Wan panted, burying his face against Qui-Gon's sweat-dampened
neck. "Oh, Master."

Reining in the urgency of his own desire, Qui-Gon slicked his fingers with more
of the oil, pressing a second finger into his padawan's narrow opening. Obi-Wan
yielded easier this time, and Qui-Gon quickly added a third.

"Master!" Obi-Wan's cry was hoarse with need, and his fingers tightened almost
painfully around Qui-Gon's arms. Qui-Gon waited for several tremulous
heartbeats, his own breath rasping in his chest as he fought the desire to
simply take this succulent young body without taking the time to prepare it.
After what seemed a small eternity, Obi-Wan's body relaxed in stages against
him, molding against the skin of his chest.

"Hurts?" Qui-Gon asked softly, concerned.

"A little." Obi-Wan's voice was the softest of breaths against his neck. "It's
better now. It feels..."

"Feels?" Qui-Gon prompted when his padawan trailed off, nibbling along the line
of the boy's throat and swiping his tongue across the salt-slick skin, drinking
him in.

"So full." Obi-Wan laughed shortly, the breath leaving him in a gusting sigh.
With deliberate care, he fanned out his fingers across Qui-Gon's chest,
pressing his palms against the hot flesh, and dipped his head to lave at his
master's nipple, teasing the smooth flesh into a pebbled nub and drawing it
into his mouth with sweet suction. "I want you in me," he whispered, nipping
lightly with his teeth.

Qui-Gon groaned, his body arching under his padawan's caresses, and then he was
pulling his fingers from that clinging flesh and rolling the boy over onto his
stomach. Obi-Wan yielded with a sigh, his arms stretching out over his head to
fold around the pillows underneath him.

Amused to find his hands shaking, Qui-Gon reached for one of the supple pillows
and slid it underneath Obi-Wan's stomach, lifting him up off of the mattress.
For a moment, he just stared at the sight before him, his Obi-Wan, laid out and
ready for the taking. The boy's golden skin was gilded with sweat and flushed
deeply with arousal, lean and sinuous against the pale sheets. Even as Qui-Gon
watched, the boy's hips made a small circular movement against the pillow under
him, an assuredly unconscious plea for more of his master's touch. Unable to
resist, Qui-Gon smoothed a hand over the seductive curve of one round buttock,
smiling at the resultant tremor this caused.

"My Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed, draping himself over that enticing back, biting
not quite gently at the edge of one slender shoulder blade. Obi-Wan gasped at
the sudden pain, then sighed as Qui-Gon's tongue moved to soothe the small
hurt. Supporting his weight with one arm, Qui-Gon reached down between their
bodies to slick his straining shaft, using as much of the oil as he could.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, my young one?" Qui-Gon whispered into Obi-
Wan's ear, lowering almost his full weight onto the boy's back. He supported
himself on his elbows to either side of Obi-Wan's trembling form and bent to
lick at the nape of that slender neck, inhaling the scent of his padawan's
skin. "It's your choice, Obi-Wan. Always your choice."

"I'm yours, my Master," Obi-Wan replied, his voice muffled against the pillows.

The words made Qui-Gon groan aloud, and he shifted his hips so that his
erection pressed up against Obi-Wan's slickened passage. Gently, he began to
push, testing the resistance of the ring of muscle that he found there, biting
hard on his lower lip to hold back the sounds of rapture that Obi-Wan's body
was trying to wrest from him.

Obi-Wan was moaning under him. His back bowed up against Qui-Gon's chest, skin
sliding against sweat-slick skin. An involuntary groan was pulled from Qui-Gon
as he felt the boy's body give way to his relentless invasion, heated pressure
wrapping around the head of his cock. His palms slid up the length of Obi-Wan's
arms, found his hands, and their fingers curled together as Qui-Gon continued
to push steadily into the tight heat of his padawan's body.

*Yes.* Soft skin, slender limbs, tight heat around him, clutching him, drawing
him deeper inside. Warm body under his lips and tongue. Hoarse cries, harsh
with need, slender fingers clutching at his hands, holding him, anchoring him,
as the world narrowed to the body that writhed and twisted beneath him.

"Master," Obi-Wan whispered into the pillows, and Qui-Gon touched his tongue to
the nape of the boy's neck, his breath cooling on the moistened skin. Obi-Wan
pressed his hips back into Qui-Gon's groin, panting lightly as Qui-Gon
continued to press into him, his entire body thrumming with the force of his
arousal.

Heat. Heat and pressure, and gods, this boy was beautiful, writhing like a
virgin houri against thesheets, the gasps that were wrung from him striking
deep into Qui-Gon's soul. Obi-Wan's legs fell further open, inviting him in,
ankles moving back to twine around the backs of Qui-Gon's legs, holding him
close, refusing to let him go. Gods. Such sweet flesh, beautiful and willing
and *his*, rising to his thrusts with all the helpless abandon of the passion
that sang between them.

With a groan, Qui-Gon released one of Obi-Wan's hands and reached down to grasp
the slender curve of his hip, his fingers tightening with almost bruising force
on his next thrust. Obi-Wan gasped, his head moving from side to side as he
pressed back into the touch, and his freed hand moved up to cup the back of
Qui-Gon's neck, fingers combing into the damp fall of hair around their
shoulders. Qui-Gon rubbed his cheek roughly against the side of the boy's face,
marking him, breathing in the musk of his essence. His hand worked its way
under their straining bodies to close around the heat of the boy's erection.

"Master!" The cry was almost incoherent, and Obi-Wan's head flew back at the
contact, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling as his body trembled between
the dual stimulation of being both caressed and penetrated. Qui-Gon tightened
his grip, stroking heavily, and Obi-Wan gave a low, keening wail, his body
shuddering violently in his master's arms. Qui-Gon watched greedily as the
boy's face contorted in pleasure, flushing red with passion and excitement as
he spilled his sudden passion over Qui-Gon's hand.

Qui-Gon gave a ragged cry as the muscles clutching his penis tightened with the
boy's orgasm, and then he was following with a harsh shout, the world
splintering into rainbow shards around him. For one endless moment, everything
was light and heat and love, and all that he had ever sought for or dreamed was
here, now, in his arms.

"Love you," Qui-Gon whispered, surprised to find that there were tears on his
cheeks. Very carefully, he rolled onto his side, pulling Obi-Wan with him. His
penis slid out of the boy's body as he moved, and he made a low sound of
disgruntlement as that pleasurable sheath was lost to him.

"Master," Obi-Wan replied, turning his head to meet Qui-Gon's eyes. His smile
was one of utter contentment.

Qui-Gon's heart filled with joy as he read the adoration in that sated gaze.
"Sleep now, Obi-Wan," he said softly, brushing back the damp strands of hair
that clung to the sides of his young lover's face. "We'll talk in the morning."
And then again, softly, "My Obi-Wan."

"Yours," Obi-Wan agreed, his eyes closing. He burrowed back against Qui-Gon's
strong form, safe in the protecting embrace of his master's arms.

"Mine," Qui-Gon breathed, nuzzling into the back of his padawan's neck. The
scents that rose around him were dizzying in their intensity. "As I am yours."

He couldn't be sure that Obi-Wan had heard him. The boy's breathing had evened
out into the slow rhythm of sleep, his body lax and trusting in Qui-Gon's arms.
Smiling, Qui-Gon tightened his grip around him, thinking how wonderfully
fortunate he was to be able to share his life with this boy that he loved.

Basking in the light of his own bright piece of the Sun, Qui-Gon slept.

End. 
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