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It took a dull thud coming from the fresher for Qui-Gon Jinn to realize anyone else was in his quarters. Neglecting to hang up his robe and remove his boots before properly entering the living space, he hurried to the room in question and activated the door. “Obi-Wan?”

On the floor in a crumbled heap lay his nineteen-year-old Padawan of six years. Pained and embarrassed green-blue eyes looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Master.” His voice shook as he unstably pushed himself into a sitting position. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m fine.”

Qui-Gon crouched by him. “You’re not fine.” He nodded to Obi-Wan’s trembling arms. “You can barely support yourself.” He drew back when he realized, “And I wasn’t informed you were released from the Healers.”

The accusation struck Obi-Wan hard. “I didn’t escape. They decided I was well enough to leave, so I did.”

“Well, typically, Masters are told when their apprentices have recovered.”

Obi-Wan ducked his head. “I…I wanted to surprise you.”

Qui-Gon didn’t smile as he’d hoped. His displeasure was plain to see in his set mouth and hard gaze. “Oh, I am surprised,” he said. “But I thought you of all people would know the difference between rebuilding your strength gradually and pushing yourself too hard and injuring yourself further.”

Obi-Wan refused to accept the rebuke. “I suppose the tendency is one I learned from my Master.”

Qui-Gon’s frown deepened as he stood. He offered his hands to his seated apprentice. Obi-Wan took them and Qui-Gon pulled him to his feet. Obi-Wan bit back voicing his pain, but his Master caught the flinch and the way he swayed unsteadily on his weakened legs. Qui-Gon swept him into his arms and carried him from the fresher. “I can control my pain much better, tendency or not.” He set Obi-Wan on the sofa and turned to the kitchen, intending to bring them both something light to eat.

“You’ve been running around soaked in blood from your injuries and you never slow down even when you know you should!”

Qui-Gon’s temper spiked and he whirled back to face Obi-Wan while grabbing his comlink from his belt. “I rest when I can, as you should be now! I’m calling the Healers.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward but knew he was too weak to stand to confront him. “No, Master. Don’t! There’s no need.”

“You need to go back.”

“But I just got back here!”

“They released you too early.”

“Master, please! I wanted to come home! To you!” Both men stared at each other, one puzzled and the other shocked by his own words. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and calmed the turbulent emotions raging inside of him. His next words were steady. “I’ll recover faster and easier in familiar surroundings, not in the suffocating sterility of the Healers Ward. Please, Master, don’t send me awa—back.” Obi-Wan lowered his eyes at his near slip.

Qui-Gon hooked his comlink back on his belt. Obi-Wan’s childhood fear of abandonment and dismissal had never left him. They still haunted the young man, even after six years of their partnership. How could he have missed that in his apprentice? He knelt in front of Obi-Wan and ducked until his face came into Obi-Wan line of sight. “I will never send you away. I thought you knew that by now.”

Obi-Wan swallowed. “I worked so hard to come home, and now you just want me to go back to the Healers again.”

“To be cared for in the best way. But we both know that you weren’t talking about going back to the Healers.” Obi-Wan said nothing. Qui-Gon had to address what had happened during their last mission from his point of view. “Obi-Wan.” He waited until their eyes connected. “You don’t know what it was like for me when I found you in that cell. I couldn’t reach you through our bond, and no matter what I tried, you wouldn’t wake up. Even on the transport back to Coruscant, you never woke up once. I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead, Padawan.” Tears sprang to his eyes when he saw Obi-Wan begin to cry. “I gave you to the Healers’ care and took the position of teaching the junior saber class two weeks later because all I could think about was what if you never woke up? It drove me mad to think I could lose you. That is something I could not bear, dear one. I wouldn’t—” Qui-Gon’s throat closed in terror as he realized what he’d just said, what he’d just called his Padawan.

Obi-Wan saw his Master’s terror, his self-consciousness, and he was confused until he replayed his Master’s words in his head again. When he did, the reason for his Master’s state became all too clear. “You love me.”

Qui-Gon sighed in relief. He could recover from this. “Of course I do.”

He answered too quickly, too easily. And his Master refused to look at him directly. Obi-Wan recognized evasion from his Master. He decided to test him. “As your Padawan, you mean.”

“Of course.”

Again, the response was too quickly given. “But that’s not what you meant,” Obi-Wan stated. Qui-Gon didn’t respond at all. Obi-Wan’s chest tightened. “Master, what did you mean?”

Qui-Gon’s shoulders sagged in his failure to fool his apprentice. “I meant…more.” As quickly as his chest had tightened, Obi-Wan’s tension transformed into hope. With Qui-Gon’s next sentence, those hopes collapsed. “But I can’t—we can’t. The Code forbids anything to grow between us other than—”

“You’ve never cared about following the Code if you didn’t agree with it.”

“I must obey in this instance.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan struggled to ask it.

Qui-Gon smiled bitterly at him. “I’m too old for you. I’m your Master. And it is forbidden.”

Obi-Wan shook his head harder with each weak justification. “Only if you put your needs or wants or my life above all else. We both know that is something neither of us would do. We’re still Jedi, and if we do not hold each other above all else and others, then we still are following the Code and not violating the dictates or attachment.” Qui-Gon’s jaw went slack with shock and his eyes shined with hesitant hope. Obi-Wan had stunned his Master to silence. He laughed as he reached for Qui-Gon’s scruffy face. “You stupid man,” he said through his laughter and kissed his Master.

But Qui-Gon didn’t react. He didn’t react in any way. He didn’t kiss Obi-Wan back. He didn’t touch him. He didn’t do anything.

Obi-Wan pulled away. Qui-Gon knelt statuesque. A cold weight settled in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach. “Is…Master?” He lowered his hands from his dazed Master’s face. “I’m sorry. I assumed that—I thought—” He laughed at his own foolishness and tried to lighten his misstep. “It seems your recklessness has finally rubbed off on me.” Qui-Gon hadn’t even blinked since Obi-Wan kissed him. He bowed his head low. “Forgive me, Master.”

Obi-Wan penitence broke Qui-Gon’s stupor. He looked at his apprentice, his wise, but still so young, apprentice. A young man he’d grown to love despite their differences, despite their situation, and despite the strictures of the Jedi Code. Obi-Wan, against all likelihood in Qui-Gon’s estimation, had reached out to him in love. He’d repaid Obi-Wan’s bravery with his inaction of the requited feelings he held for his apprentice. The time came for him to be brave like Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon reached for Obi-Wan, hesitating halfway, but pushing forward resolutely. If he earned nothing further than forgiveness, he would be content. He gently ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s soft, short hair. Once his arm extended fully and could go no further, Qui-Gon tugged on Obi-Wan’s hair to get him to look at him. “Only if you forgive the selfish desires of a foolish old man.”

“You’re not old, Master.”

Qui-Gon shook his head as he repeated the motion of his fingers in Obi-Wan’s hair. “I’m old enough to be your father.”

Obi-Wan hummed in amusement. “Thankfully, you are not my father, then. Otherwise all of this would be incredibly inappropriate.” Obi-Wan smiled shyly. “And your desires can’t possibly be selfish if I share them.”

Understanding dawned in Qui-Gon’s eyes only to be overshadowed by raw hunger. Obi-Wan’s shy smile turned wicked under that heated gaze. He leaned into his Master’s hand still nestled in his hair. Qui-Gon raised his other hand until he cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek, using his thumb to stroke his skin in a way he never thought to in reality. He followed the path of his thumb with his eyes, watching as he brushed the callused pad over Obi-Wan’s soft lips. Obi-Wan parted his lips enough to breathe deeper in his growing excitement. Qui-Gon swallowed as Obi-Wan’s warm breath moistened his skin. Obi-Wan licked his lips, the tip of his tongue teasing Qui-Gon’s senses, promising more if they chose to continue further. And they both wanted to continue.

Qui-Gon slid his hand to the back of Obi-Wan’s neck and pulled him forward. Obi-Wan slid from the sofa to join his Master on his knees. He had no time to settle before Qui-Gon kissed him hard. Obi-Wan planted his hands on his Master’s chest before he lost his balance. Qui-Gon continued to kiss his apprentice, parting only to draw a quick, sharp breath before tasting him again and again. Obi-Wan slid his hands down, down until he reached Qui-Gon’s belt. With sure, urgent movements, he undid the clasp and shoved it away. As he made quick work of parting the layers of his Master’s tunics, he pulled his lips free. “Let me show you how much I wanted this, old man.”

Qui-Gon laughed as Obi-Wan managed to push him onto his back. “I thought you didn’t think I’m old.”

Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to Qui-Gon’s throat. “I don’t.” And another to the hollow of his collarbone. “But you do.” He opened the tunics fully as he made his way down his Master’s chest. “If I have to spend the whole night convincing you otherwise—” He kissed Qui-Gon’s navel. “So be it, Master.” Then his hands were busy at Qui-Gon’s pants. His Master lifted his hips as Obi-Wan yanked the material down. “Well,” Obi-Wan said, appreciatively. “Now I know you’re definitely interested.”

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan straddle his legs and lick his kiss-swollen lips. “Padaw—” The word cut off in a groan at the first touch of Obi-Wan’s tongue on his aching cock. Obi-Wan grew surer with every teasing lick, and before Qui-Gon could recover his ability to form words, Obi-Wan ran his spit-slick tongue along Qui-Gon’s cock from base to tip in one, long, torturous stroke. “Oh,” he moaned his approval, while sluggishly responding hands reached for Obi-Wan’s hair.

He inhaled sharply as Obi-Wan slid his lips over the head and sucked Qui-Gon into his hot, wet mouth. Qui-Gon tightened his grip on his apprentice’s hair, urging Obi-Wan to take him deeper, and pulling him away when on the brink of choking. Obi-Wan braced his hands on his Master’s hips, humming around the hard cock in his mouth. Together, they established a rhythm, Obi-Wan meeting every one of Qui-Gon’s shallow thrusts as his Master fucked his mouth. When Obi-Wan swirled his tongue just so, he was rewarded with a deep groan from Qui-Gon. The big hands tightened and pulled Obi-Wan’s hair. He winced but knew it stemmed from pleasure and therefore he didn’t mind the treatment. It showed Qui-Gon’s pleasure, and that made Obi-Wan work harder. He slid his hands from his Master’s hips and up the broad man’s sides, intending to tease his chest.

But Qui-Gon had other ideas. He tugged hard on Obi-Wan’s hair, pulling his mouth from his cock. While Obi-Wan gasped for full breaths, Qui-Gon grabbed his apprentice’s wrists. “Come here,” he growled, as he sat up. Obi-Wan dismounted and leaned back into his former kneeling position. “Turn around,” Qui-Gon purred.

Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up in anticipation before he presented his back to his Master. Qui-Gon shifted closer and embraced his apprentice from behind, running his hands around and down to undo Obi-Wan’s belt. He let it fall to the floor, parted the tunics with one hand, spit into the other, and slid it beneath the waistband of Obi-Wan’s pants until he gently grasped his Padawan’s stiff cock. Obi-Wan let his head fall back against Qui-Gon’s shoulder with a strangled moan. Qui-Gon wrapped his free arm around Obi-Wan’s chest and held him to his body, his fingers teasing a nipple to coax another moan from his apprentice’s lips. He worked the younger man’s firm cock in rhythmic strokes and held Obi-Wan tighter to his chest the more his apprentice trembled in his arms.

Seeing that his hands were not enough, Qui-Gon turned his head to put Obi-Wan’s neck in reach of his lips. He rained kisses there, sucking on the skin only to soothe the abused flesh with his tongue and a gentler kiss. Obi-Wan’s spine arched as he moaned and shook in cresting excitement. Qui-Gon grinned into the space behind Obi-Wan’s ear where he tucked his Padawan braid away. Qui-Gon kissed that space, his lips touching both the braid and the sensitive skin behind the ear. “Let go, Obi-Wan,” he said in Obi-Wan’s ear before gently taking the lobe between his teeth.

Obi-Wan shuddered against Qui-Gon’s body and spurted his essence into his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon, with his hand smeared in Obi-Wan’s seed, turned his apprentice’s face to him and he kissed him hard. Obi-Wan sagged bonelessly into Qui-Gon’s chest, his body utterly relaxed with his release.

Qui-Gon smiled into the kiss but broke it to guide Obi-Wan to bend forward and rest his upper body into the sofa cushions. Qui-Gon’s large hands traced Obi-Wan’s spine from neck to cleft when he took his apprentice’s hips in a firm hold and scooted himself closer. He pressed his cock against Obi-Wan, letting him feel how much Qui-Gon wanted him. Obi-Wan whimpered into the cushions but he pushed back against his Master. Qui-Gon bent forward and kissed his way up Obi-Wan’s spine, touching his lips to every vertebrae along the way, until he reached the place where Obi-Wan’s shoulder and neck met. He draped his body to rest comfortably over and against Obi-Wan’s, mouthing that spot and rocking his hips against Obi-Wan’s ass until his apprentice trembled beneath him. “Oh, Master,” Obi-Wan moaned, his voice muffled by the cushion.

Qui-Gon hummed against Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Kriff me, Master.”

Qui-Gon groaned and thrust hard against Obi-Wan, who quivered in his arms as he bit back another moan of appreciation. Qui-Gon forced himself to tranquility and control. Hearing Obi-Wan ask for what they both desired nearly undid him. He knew his firm grip on Obi-Wan’s hips would bruise, but if he didn’t control his body’s reactions to his Padawan’s request and reinforced offer in the way he pushed his ass back into Qui-Gon’s groin, he knew he would enter his apprentice’s body and take him in a way neither of them truly wanted or deserved. He stilled his body and spoke into Obi-Wan’s ear. “Only if you’re absolutely sure, my Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan smiled and turned to kiss Qui-Gon sweetly. “Yes, my old Master. I’m sure.” He kissed him again.  “Please.”

Qui-Gon growled and pulled back from Obi-Wan to bodily flip his apprentice onto his back. He made short work of fully removing Obi-Wan’s pants and tossing them aside. Taking hold of a thigh in each hand, he spread Obi-Wan’s legs and settled his body between them. Obi-Wan sighed contentedly at this new development. “Yes,” he said, reaching to touch his Master. “Oh, please.” 

But Qui-Gon snatched his wrists and pinned them to the sofa. “I’m not kriffing you here, Padawan.” Obi-Wan lifted his head for a kiss. Qui-Gon obliged. He let go of Obi-Wan’s wrists and curled his hands around his apprentice’s thighs, lifting them to wrap them around his waist.

Obi-Wan, with his hands freed, raked his fingers through his Master’s long hair and threw himself into the kiss, moaning into Qui-Gon’s mouth as their cocks rubbed together for the first time. Qui-Gon groaned deep in his throat as Obi-Wan thrust up against him. “Oh ghods,” Obi-Wan cried, “Kriff me, Master! Please!”

Qui-Gon shivered and kissed Obi-Wan to stop him from destroying his resolve to kriff him where he planned on doing so. In his bed. “Hang onto me, Padawan.” Obi-Wan quickly obeyed and wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon’s neck and shoulders. Qui-Gon cupped Obi-Wan’s ass in his hands, and rose to his feet, his soon-to-be lover wrapped around him. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way, then started towards his bedroom, carrying his Padawan to his bed. On the way, Obi-Wan kissed everywhere he could reach, humming his pleasure at being so completely enveloped in Qui-Gon’s arms and finally being free to be so.

Obi-Wan focused so intently on kissing Qui-Gon’s neck that he didn’t even hear the door slide open to his Master’s bedroom. He didn’t even know they’d entered the room until Qui-Gon gently lowered him to lie on the soft bedding. He looked up at Qui-Gon, who hovered over him on his hands and knees. Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan in with his eyes. Here, finally, lay his most guarded desire, spread beneath him and eager for his touch. He smiled roguishly down at him. “I’ll show you just how old your Master is, my dear Padawan.”

Obi-Wan laughed as Qui-Gon pounced on him with a playful growl. The bedroom door slid shut and did not open again until midday the following afternoon, at which time Master and Apprentice emerged, disheveled, exhausted, and ravenously hungry from their shared intense and deep all-night and into-the-morning meditation. At least, that was their official story if anyone asked.