Unaccountably nervous, Obi-Wan was tempted to pace, but pacing was beneath the dignity of a Jedi, particularly a mere apprentice masquerading as a full-fledged knight. He clasped his hands within the folds of his cloak and took a meditative breath before entering the imposing structure. Gold lettering spelled out the name "Jinn Enterprises" on the glass door. The Jinn family had done well - the elder brother a Jedi Master, the younger brother a legend of success in the trading business.
The interior was richly decorated, as to be expected of the most prosperous import/export business on the planet. Plush rugs, desks of aged wood and elegant tapestries on the walls combined to form an ambience which commanded respect. Clearly, only administration was performed in this building, with the dirty work of transporting goods discreetly handled elsewhere. Obi-Wan approached the handsome young receptionist.
"I need to see Fra-Zon Jinn."
The receptionist inquired, "And do you have an appointment, sir?" The politely bland smile indicated that the Jedi would not advance any farther than the foyer without one.
Waving his hand and reaching out with the power of the Force, Obi-Wan intoned, "I have an appointment."
"Yes, you do have an appointment."
"I should go right in."
"Yes, you should go right in."
Jedi powers carried him successfully through two more receptionists, a secretary and a personal assistant. Few occasions in his training had yet presented themselves to use mind control, but pride in the ease of his accomplishment was mixed with his worry for Qui-Gon. Upon reaching the executive office, the double doors opened abruptly, swinging outward. Shock caught his breath at the sight before him: Qui-Gon, but younger by several years. Differences existed; the nose had not been broken, the brown hair was short with gray only touching at the temples, and the beard was missing. The similarities were astonishing; the shape of the features, the eyes of the same piercing blue and the smile was as warm when the man recognized his visitor's uniform.
"I realized someone with mind powers was in the building when my assistants kept insisting I had an appointment. I am honored that I am worthy of a Jedi's attention although I was expecting someone with less than noble intentions. Please, come in." Fra-Zon strolled back to seat himself at the large desk which dominated the room, hitting a button on its surface. "Cancel Security. It's a Jedi, not a thief." Directing his attention again to Obi-Wan, he asked, "To what do I owe this honor?"
"You're very brave to confront someone with mind powers in your own office." Obi-Wan delayed for time to assess the situation.
Fra-Zon shrugged. "I have excellent security and prefer to handle my own concerns." The businessman steepled his fingers together and lounged back in his chair, waiting patiently for an explanation.
With his hands in the sleeves of his cloak, Obi-Wan struggled to look serene and undisturbed. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am seeking a missing individual who is in trouble and I believe that he may have come to you."
Fra-Zon considered the oblique response. "I have had no unusual visitors within the last week, nor any visitors in trouble. Can you be more specific?"
"The matter is extremely personal. I would not like to discuss this person's situation without his presence."
"Then I am afraid I cannot help you." Fra-Zon examined Obi-Wan's composed countenance, seeking further answers but not finding them. "However, I highly respect the Jedi." He stood, walking around to the front of the desk and leaning against it, legs slightly spread in front to lower his height so his eyes could gaze directly into Obi-Wan's. His tilted smile tore at the Padawan's heart. He had never seen his Master without a beard, but he could now see the true impact of how the thin lips curled up on one side. "And I respect determination and discretion. Here's my personal card - if you need my assistance, this will allow you entry without unnecessary tricks."
Their hands touched as Obi-Wan clasped the card, Fra-Zon's fingers sensually caressing. "And if you can't find your friend, I would be delighted to take you to dinner tonight." His smile grew even broader at the obvious surprise reflected in Obi-Wan's hazel eyes. "I am a success in business because I recognize what I want and go after it, Obi-Wan. I know distracting a Jedi from a mission is probably an impossible task, but . . . consider my offer." One large hand drifted smoothly down the Padawan braid. "Even Jedi have to eat, and starving won't help your friend."
Dazed, Obi-Wan stood in front of the doorway and thunked his head against the gold lettering. His reflection in the mirrored glass stared back at him. He saw nothing unusual about the face. Cataloging his features, he stared at hazel eyes which changed to a bluish gray in some lights, short brownish hair, straight nose, thin lips, a small cleft in his chin. Understanding Qui-Gon's passion for him was uncomplicated; his Master was partially transformed and no longer wholly in control of himself, this the young padawan knew. Obi-Wan secretly feared that Qui-Gon's cravings might dissolve if the transformation was reversed, leaving him lonely again. Navar's insane desire was incomprehensible to him and Fra-Zon's sexual advance confusing. Jedi were taught to appreciate beauty in all its forms, but avoided all physical vanity and this sudden awareness of his own attractiveness embarrassed rather than pleased Obi-Wan.
Pushing away all other thoughts, the Jedi apprentice concentrated solely on his Master. He sensed the return of their Master/Padawan bond as the ship neared this planet, realizing the sedative must be fading from Qui-Gon's system. Occasionally, he experienced flashes of pain and rage through the link, which heightened his desperation to find Qui-Gon before something unpleasant occurred. Twisting around, gazing without seeing at the people walking by, he mentally sought a direction, but the bond was too weak. Logic must suffice for this task. Qui-Gon, on board a freighter ship, drugged and confused but gradually reawakening to his demonic side, without the sustaining presence of his lover. What would have happened to him? Where would he go after the ship landed, if not to his brother? Jedi research into Qui-Gon's family had not revealed his Mother's location, but Jinn Enterprises had been difficult to miss. With a flash of inspiration, Obi-Wan headed to find the police station nearest the space port.
Obi-Wan once again shoved all thoughts aside except the need to concentrate on the here and now as he looked down at Qui-Gon's tortured body. His Master had managed to survive only a few days without him until the freighter Captain tossed him into the ship's prison cell for his increasingly erratic violent behavior. Not trusting his actions if freed, the Captain contacted the police upon landing.
"He's been rather easy to control in his own way. We get him agitated when we need to feed him. He throws himself against the force field and makes himself all dazed and confused. Then it's safe to put food in his cell. Of course," the jailer said laconically, obviously uncaring about humanitarian considerations, "he don't seem much inclined to eat. Likely to starve himself soon and we'll have to force feed him. He's a strong one. That won't be an easy task."
Obi-Wan wanted to smash the smirking face, obliterating the lack of concern. His Master felt the rage rippling through his apprentice's body and responded, leaping at the jailer, Obi-Wan's neckband clasped in one hand as his talisman. Even with protection, the jailer flinched back as hands reached for his throat. As the force field energy repeatedly tore through Qui-Gon's frame, the attack shocked Obi-Wan back to awareness. Retribution for the agonies suffered would only lead to the dark side and their concerns were more immediate than vengeance. Suppressing his own anger and focusing his mental energy, Obi-Wan connected his eyes with the jailer. "He's a matter for the Jedi. You will release him to me."
He would have died in the seedy alley, throat slashed and blood pouring from his jugular, if he hadn't been prepared.
Qui-Gon had followed him down the city streets, seemingly quiescent, but Obi-Wan could feel the building rage and desire striking his Master's every nerve. Violence at the damage inflicted upon him during his imprisonment was fading, replaced by rage at having been divided so long from his Padawan, his lifeline. The fact that the separation had been his own choice blocked from his mind as the desire to possess and own that lithe body escalated. Obi-Wan scanned for a likely spot, knowing that walking behind him, his Master was making the same calculated judgment. Only the remnants of sedative in his system were keeping him in control enough not to attack him on the busy street.
Qui-Gon pounced when the two Jedi passed a deserted alleyway, shoving the smaller man down the walk and behind a stack of discarded boxes, slamming him against the wall. Obi-Wan's forearm, quickly raised in front of his throat, saved his life. Qui-Gon's fangs sank into the firm muscle, his other teeth indenting the flesh, leaving gaping punctures and a bruise that would require concentrated Jedi healing.
Bending over him, his Master grunted low, savoring the sweet nectar of what little blood he could taste from the muscle. His hands fumbled with Obi-Wan's clothes, flipping up the bottom of his tunic to pull down his breeches, almost slicing them open with the sharpness of his nails. Obi-Wan used the pressure of his Master's teeth on his arm to push himself higher against the roughness of the wall, raising and spreading both legs on each side of Qui-Gon's thighs, soles of his boots on the wall, tilting his pelvis back, knowing what had to come to temporarily satiate the insane passion.
Pulling down his breeches enough to free his erection, Qui-Gon slammed into Obi-Wan's body, his penis sinking to its full length. His Master was too large and the attack too sudden. Pain ripped through Obi-Wan's unprepared body. But the young man was a trained Jedi, and rigorous physical activity had been bred into every aspect of his life. He accepted the pain and dropped his shields, letting the crazed desire of his Master pour through him, drowning his own agony by absorbing Qui-Gon's excitement.
The intensity was too high to last and with a growling roar, Qui-Gon climaxed, his seed flowing into Obi-Wan. He slumped against his apprentice and managed to relax his jaw, freeing Obi-Wan's arm. He licked gently at the wounds, feeling the crispness of Obi-Wan's body hair on the warmth of his tongue. He pulled out of Obi-Wan's body, but remained leaning over him, foreheads touching.
//Obi, I am so sorry.//
Obi-Wan sighed with a detached despair, certain that his Master's remorse would last only until the next time something appeared to threaten his apprentice or their bond. Qui-Gon's perception threshold was absurdly low since becoming partially 'demonic.' Pushing the older man away, Obi-Wan restored his clothing, then his Master's, as the other Jedi stood mutely, waiting for judgment. "Come on, let's go to the hotel. You stink of that freighter hold." Obi-Wan stalked out of the alleyway, toward the room he had rented before tracking down Fra-Zon.
In the hotel room, Qui-Gon soaked in a tubful of hot water. Having removed tunic and boots, Obi-Wan knelt over him, washing the long silvery brown hair, cleaning away the stench of the ship. "Rinse." Qui-Gon obediently slid further down so Obi-Wan could dip his head underneath the hot liquid, running his hands through the long strands to remove the sudsy shampoo. Qui-Gon sat back up against one end of the tub. "Please," he said, holding his arms out toward Obi-Wan.
Without protest, Obi-Wan dropped his breeches and undergarment to the floor and climbed into the tub, laying his body on the length of his Master's long form, positioning his neck near his mouth. Qui-Gon struck rapidly, fangs digging into the soft skin, feeling as if he had been surviving only for this instant in time. The weight of Obi-Wan's hard body on his own, the warm liquid of the water surrounding them, the almost innocent look to his apprentice's face, eyes closed and face muscles relaxed as he accepted his Master's need. The delicious taste of his blood filled Qui-Gon's mouth, rolling over his tongue and down his throat, burning a path of warmth through his veins.
A second could have passed, or maybe an hour. Qui-Gon knew nothing but sweet satisfaction until fingers clenched firmly into his shoulders to indicate that enough blood had been lost. He reluctantly released his fangs, and Obi-Wan propped his forearms on Qui-Gon's chest, creating a space between their bodies. Using his large hands, Qui-Gon pulled on Obi-Wan's hips to position his bent legs on each side of Qui-Gon's own hips, forcing his apprentice to sit up. Their cocks touched, Obi-Wan still flaccid while Qui-Gon burned with need.
"No, Master," Obi-Wan whispered. "Not so soon."
"Please. For you, beloved, only for you. I must make amends for my attack. I want you to know pleasure." The civilized man controlled the beast temporarily and was appalled at his prior savagery.
The sadness in Qui-Gon's eyes ripped at Obi-Wan's soul, but he managed to laugh wryly. "That doesn't feel as if it would just be for me."
Hugging him closer, Qui-Gon returned the short laugh. "Then you must forgive me again. I do tend to lose control around you. Please. Let me satisfy you." Obi-Wan granted permission to the entreaty with his silence and a brief nip to one ear. Qui-Gon slid a hand between their bodies to clasp his apprentice's penis, his broad thumb testing the resiliency of the tip, his fingers massaging the length, tickling the sensitive underside. The other hand explored his body, sliding up and down the supple length of his back, around to his front, brushing the crisp armpit hair, seeking his nipples, appreciating the solid feel of his chest muscles. Qui-Gon's motions were as smooth and caressing as one might stroke a length of the finest silk, lengthened fingernails carefully held away from Obi-Wan's skin. He lowered his shields, not swamping Obi-Wan with his feelings, but simply allowing the passion/desire/domination/possession yearning that pounded through his mind to exist between the two. Obi-Wan was subtly seduced by the sheer delight of being revered.
Breathing more quickly, Obi-Wan began rocking, seeking satisfaction, thrusting their hips together. Qui-Gon kept the movement of his hands unhurried. He waited until the water had cooled, until Obi-Wan began pleading with whimpers of unsatisfied desire, scattering kisses over his Master's face and neck, moaning fierce endearments into the smooth skin. The frantic response reassured Qui-Gon of forgiveness, removing the stain of his brutality. Pumping his hand roughly and strongly on Obi-Wan's cock, he drove the younger man to a mind-shattering orgasm. Their gasps of satisfaction echoed against the white tile as despite his selfless intentions, Qui-Gon's orgasm instantly followed Obi-Wan's, pleasure lashing through his body.
Obi-Wan collapsed against Qui-Gon's solid form, struggling for breath, as the Master languidly milked his Padawan, ensuring that every fluid drop was spilled.
Now that Qui-Gon's craving for blood was satiated and a degree of rationality returned, Obi-Wan asked the question that had haunted him since being deserted. "Master, why did you leave me? Haven't you accepted that you cannot live without me? I love you."
Qui-Gon bent his head forward, avoiding the intent gaze, rubbing his cheek against the hands resting on his shoulders. "I accept that I cannot survive without you. I've learned that lesson. I will not leave you behind again. If I must risk killing you, I must."
"But you don't accept that I love you? That you are the only lover I've ever truly loved?" The bitterness generated by Qui-Gon's evasiveness surprised even himself. "Why do you think I tolerate your actions? My noble Padawan loyalty?" The lack of response indicated his guess was correct. Pushed beyond patience, he yanked on Qui-Gon's long hair, forcing his head up. For emphasis, he gripped each side of his neck and banged his head against the wall. The blow wasn't strong enough to injure but the pain highlighted the seriousness of the words. "Master Windu offered me the choice of a new Master. The decision to find you was mine. I promised you back when you first changed that we would be together as long as you needed me and to the end of our lives, if you wanted. Love made me search for you, not blind loyalty."
Explaining his jealousy and lack of trust to another person was almost impossible, since Qui-Gon could hardly understand his own emotions. His apprentice's devotion over the last few weeks had been unparalleled. "I nearly went insane when I felt Navar's lips on your cock, when I saw your naked body in his bed. You did love him. I saw you two laugh and talk together at the spring celebration. Such young, handsome men . . . you were perfection. Why should you love me--your old teacher?"
"I've *never* loved anyone but you. As a father, a mentor, a friend, and finally as a man I desperately craved with every fiber of my heart and body. Yes, I had sex with others when I thought I would never have you. I'm only human." He inhaled deeply, searching for a persuasive calm. "I love you," he repeated. "Respected Jedi Master or wild demon, it doesn't matter, as long as we are together. Don't doubt me because of Navar's insanity. Only you will ever have my love and my body again."
Circling his apprentice's slender frame with his arms, Qui-Gon brought their lips together, accepting the honesty of that vow. Obi-Wan let his emotional intensity fade and softened into the embrace. If necessary, more words would come later. For now, the sweet response of his kiss would express his love.
Only a day had passed though yesterday's events seemed to have consumed a lifetime of both despair and pleasure. It was late afternoon as Obi-Wan stood again in front of Jinn Enterprises, his reflection between the gold lettering showing his calm expression, the neckband back in its accustomed place hiding the new fang marks. Qui-Gon walked behind him, the hood of his Jedi cloak covering his face.
The personal card worked even easier than Jedi powers and the two were escorted directly to the executive office, the doors once again opening as Fra-Zon viewed Obi-Wan with a delighted smile. Noticing the form lurking behind, the smile dimmed to polite interest. "I gather you've found your friend. Please enter."
Walking to an arrangement of table and chairs in one corner of the room, Fra-Zon picked up a decanter filled with an amber fluid. "Would a celebratory drink be appropriate for this occasion?"
"I hope you think so," Qui-Gon replied as he drew the hood away from his face.
"Qui-Gon! You must be Qui-Gon." The businessman embraced his brother, hugging him tightly. "I never thought to meet you. You are Qui-Gon? Not just a distant cousin with a strong family resemblance?" His joy at meeting his brother appeared genuine, as his eyes beamed and a smile lit his face.
"Yes, I am Qui-Gon Jinn. I gather you know about me?"
"We have much to discuss. A drink is definitely in order." Fra-Zon poured the liqueur into three glasses, handing two to the Jedi. The men clinked their glasses and drank, Fra-Zon's eyes lighting on the flash of fangs. "Much to discuss apparently. I don't recall fangs in Mother's holo of your baby picture. But let's be comfortable," he said, gesturing them into chairs, giving Qui-Gon a curious stare.
"The fangs - " Qui-Gon's tongue flicked at one sharp tooth. "The fangs are why I searched you out, hoping for more knowledge of my genetic background."
"A recent development?" Fra-Zon was almost disconcertingly jovial, as if humor could disguise the bizarreness of his brother's predicament.
"Possibly a recessive gene that was triggered recently by external stimulus. We don't know. I would appreciate any information on our family, particularly on our Mother."
Fra-Zon shrugged, refilling their glasses. "I'm not sure there is much I can tell you. Neither of our parents talked much of their past, particularly Mother. Let's see - Mother and Father met on a space liner. Mother was an entertainer, a singer. Father was a junior officer for the private travel company operating the liner. They settled on this planet, Mother gave birth to you. You were tested, had a high midi-chlorian level, and were inducted into the Jedi. Mine is almost negligible," rueful amusement at the twist of fate speared his words. "Mother didn't entertain any more, but I remember listening to her sing as she worked around the house. She had the most exquisite voice. Father quit the travel company, using his contacts to open this import/export business. A few years later, they had me. When Father retired, I took over this company, making it more successful than he dreamed."
Obi-Wan asked the question Qui-Gon most dreaded. "And your parents - where are they?"
"I'm sorry." Fra-Zon's joviality softened at the news he must share. "Father passed away a few years ago in an accident. Mother - Mother soon followed him. His death broke her heart."
Qui-Gon stopped on the busy sidewalk, letting the people flow around him, absorbed in his thoughts. Obi-Wan stayed at his side, waiting for his Master's response to the lengthy meeting. Fra-Zon had been delighted to share his childhood and his successful expansion of Jinn Enterprises. Little more useful information had been provided on their parents and no knowledge of the planet Valon or Valona relatives. He had begged for details on Qui-Gon's Jedi training and his transformation before excusing himself for a business dinner, asking them to meet tomorrow. Qui-Gon had been vaguely noncommittal on his response to that invitation. "It's a sad thing," the elder said calmly.
"I wasn't sure if you had realized."
"Yes, the dolomide has completely worn off. I'm in touch with the living Force, though I would have preferred not to know that my own brother had lied to me."
"Could you tell what was truthful and what was not?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.
"Most of it was truth with only elements of falsehoods. But certainly my Mother - my Mother is still alive." Qui-Gon finally turned to look at his cherished apprentice, placing one large hand on his sturdy shoulder. "Thank you for your presence. You kept me sane enough not to reach for his throat at that lie. The question is - is my brother an honest man, wishing to avoid a potential embarrassment for his business? Is he protecting an aged Mother so that she will not be distressed at the horrible sight of her unknown son? Or is he somehow involved with those who would force my transformation? Did he do something to distract you last time?" Adding a direct question to his rhetorical list caught Obi-Wan off-guard and he responded honestly before deciding if the truth was wise.
"He made a sexual advance."
His Master merely gave an unsurprised nod, as if anticipating that answer from the undercurrents he sensed between the two. Obi-Wan's earnest promises had reassured his soul's need for violent domination. Jealousy at his brother would not consume him this day. "Yes, if he is playing a game, he would want to disconcert you. If so, I wonder why he risked meeting me today."
"If he is aware of what is happening to you, he may have thought you would not have enough control to discover his evasions," Obi-Wan offered, not sure whether Qui-Gon's demonic side would prefer the thought of a dishonest brother or one who was attracted to his lover.
"Yes, that would be a logical assumption if he knows the myth of the demons. He would not know the effect of your love on my stability. And presumably you would be too uncomfortable from his proposition yesterday. Or perhaps discounted due to your age. He underestimates both of us, a bad move for an intelligent man. We still need more information on this transformation and his answers have only raised more questions."
"Then we continue the quest. We find your mother without his assistance." Obi-Wan's tone was emphatic. He would not be left behind.
"Yes, we continue the quest. Together."
The End (for now)