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Qui-Gon’s head fell back on a trembling sigh, a quiet thud against the wall of the confessional. There were hands on his knees, pushing up the fabric of his cassock slowly, so slowly. Giving him time to say something. He couldn’t find his voice, could not find it in him to refuse.
Qui-Gon had just drawn the curtain of the confessional aside, only to find Obi-Wan standing before him. He’d looked so beautiful: perfectly limned in warm, soft candlelight, that flash of desperate determination in his eyes.
Forgive me, Father, Obi-Wan had whispered—boldly and nervously, breath trembling: for I am a sinner, and I burn for the Lord’s forgiveness.
He tore the tab collar loose and his cassock open with jerky motions. And he’d gone to his knees before Qui-Gon, the movement itself a smooth and beautiful surrender.
They’d danced around this so long, Qui-Gon thought, as slender fingers slid up over his knees. Poring over drafts of their sermons for days on end, arguing philosophies in the dead chill of winter. The endless cups of tea. The way they were ever in orbit around each other.
Something about the lad had crept into his very soul, and now lay nestled there like a fox in a burrow.
“Obi-Wan…”
The name fell from his lips in a whisper. Obi-Wan’s hands clenched in an involuntary response, at mid thigh, and Qui-Gon looked down at him.
For the first time, he saw doubt in those beautiful eyes, and it made his heart clench.
“Qui-Gon, I—”
“Don’t stop.”
Obi-Wan did, wide-eyed, but for only a moment. With a sly little smile, he let his hands fall to the inner thighs, and pushed Qui-Gon’s legs apart.
He was surprised, Qui-Gon realised. It stung a little. But that was unfair of him, and perhaps even hypocritical. Just today he’d watched Obi-Wan speaking with their parishioners, seeing them out after service was done. Watched Obi-Wan bid young Miss Kryze goodnight and discovered within himself a dark, wriggling jealousy over how well they looked together.
More and more, he watched the way the town girls looked to ‘Father Kenobi’ with adoring, hungry eyes. That open regard did nothing to hide their impure thoughts, and Qui-Gon hated it. Hated himself for doing the same, and probably being just as obvious about it.
He’d hoped Obi-Wan had never caught him looking.
Now, though, with Obi-Wan on his knees between Qui-Gon’s legs, that fear suddenly seemed so foolish.
Obi-Wan looked up at him again, eyes glimmering. The expression on his face was so open, both joyous and relieved. Gratified. “I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, and Qui-Gon had to strain to hear the words. “I’ve wanted this since I first met you. Shook your hand.”
Qui-Gon bit back a sound and reached for him, curling a hand around Obi-Wan’s jaw and tracing gentle fingertips under his ear, nudging them into the soft, short-shorn red gold hairs at Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan sighed and let his eyes fall closed, turning into the touch. He nuzzled at Qui-Gon’s inner wrist, lips parted.
Sweet merciful Lord, Qui-Gon thought, he’s beautiful.
Obi-Wan gave him a sideways glance and smiled, as if he could hear the thought.
“You cannot imagine,” Obi-Wan said, leaning forward, “how you’ve occupied my fantasies. The thought of kneeling before you, under your desk…”
Qui-Gon saw the delicate shudder, felt it against his palm. He drew a thumb slowly across Obi-Wan’s lower lip, and felt his breath catch at the way the lad’s eyelids drooped. Qui-Gon slipped his fingers into his hair—short, not much of a handhold, but soft as silk. His cock ached, he wanted to adjust himself in the worst way, but he didn’t want to do anything to disturb the moment.
“Tell me,” he said, and barely recognised his own voice, so deep and graveled. But he could hardly be blamed for that when Obi-Wan was leaning in close enough for Qui-Gon to feel the heat of his breath through cloth.
Obi-Wan paused, trembling, then nuzzled against the hard length of him. Qui-Gon bit back a groan.
“I can show you.” Obi-Wan dragged a hand along his inner thigh, took hold of Qui-Gon’s cock.
Qui-Gon couldn’t help the way he almost jumped, like a string had been pulled taut through his entire body. Obi-Wan grinned, a toothy, pleased thing, and loosened Qui-Gon’s belt with deft fingers.
Obi-Wan drew him out of his pants, eyes burning. After a moment’s consideration, he bit his lip and pushed the waistband down lower to bare Qui-Gon’s balls.
Qui-Gon hissed and shuddered. The heating system had never been powerful enough to heat the whole church. But the cold couldn’t seem to penetrate the close space between them. Rather he felt oddly vulnerable under Obi-Wan’s gaze. The lad knelt between his legs, flushed, lips parted—eyes wide with a hint of trepidation.
“Even better than I imagined,” Obi-Wan whispered.
Qui-Gon barely had time to process the words—Obi-Wan dipped down and took him into his mouth.
And that mouth, it set him on fire. Obi-Wan lapped at his cockhead with abandon, chasing down drops of precome. He sucked at the sensitive underside, then nosed against Qui-Gon’s balls and sucked one into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue thoroughly before subjecting the other one to the same treatment.
Qui-Gon had been celibate for years. He was surprised he hadn’t come at the first touch of Obi-Wan’s hand. What a talented tongue, he thought, half regretful to have learned it this way rather than through a kiss. But as much as Qui-Gon wanted to kiss him now, he couldn’t bear to pull the lad away. So when Obi-Wan took his cock back into that wonderful mouth, Qui-Gon contented himself with cradling Obi-Wan’s head between his palms.
And watched as Obi-Wan’s lips stretched around his cock; watched as his cheeks hollowed out when he sucked. Obi-Wan’s breath stuttered, and Qui-Gon looked down to see him pressing his hand between his legs—rutting against his palm.
“Stop,” Qui-Gon rasped.
Obi-Wan froze with a confused whine, staring up at Qui-Gon with eyes half afraid.
“Take your hand away,” Qui-Gon instructed him.
For a moment Obi-Wan looked like nothing so much as a boy who’d been caught wanking where he shouldn’t be, frozen and ashamed. Then his eyes slipped closed and he sighed. His hand trailed away onto his thigh, fingers loosely curled up. Qui-Gon could have sworn he looked— relieved. Accepting.
“I’ll let you come,” Qui-Gon promised, “I will. I want to see it.”
The lad moaned, a soft sound that burned through Qui-Gon as it vibrated around his cock. Obi-Wan raised that hand to Qui-Gon’s leg again—cradled the tense muscle of Qui-Gon’s calf, the touch almost tender. Qui-Gon let one hand slide to the nape of Obi-Wan’s neck and just held him, bracing him as Obi-Wan sucked.
Obi-Wan bobbed his head down, trying to take him deeper. Qui-Gon didn’t push, but he brushed his thumbs over Obi-Wan’s temples and gently brushed the back of his hand over Obi-Wan’s cheeks.
“You’re perfect,” Qui-Gon whispered.
Obi-Wan looked up at him through his lashes, then edged closer and tried to take Qui-Gon into his throat.
“You don’t have to—”
Obi-Wan didn’t get far before he gagged, but the sensation of it took Qui-Gon by surprise. He came with a low groan, curling forward over Obi-Wan’s head and gasping.
Obi-Wan didn’t let him go. He kept Qui-Gon’s cock in his mouth as he got his breath back, suckling softly, not letting a single drop escape.
Qui-Gon squeezed his eyes shut, and brushed a clumsy kiss against the hair at the crown of Obi-Wan’s head. He pushed himself back up, hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, until he was leaning back against the wall again.
It was some time before he could even think again. Obi-Wan seemed content to keep on suckling until he softened, though.
“That was…” Qui-Gon brushed his knuckles gently over Obi-Wan’s cheek. “I’ll never be able to sit here again without thinking of this. Wanting it.”
Obi-Wan laughed, ragged, and looked up. “I want you all the time. In my mouth, inside me. I want you to take me over your desk. I want you to fuck me, I want you to use me—”
Qui-Gon groaned. “You’re an enticement to sin, lad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologise,” Qui-Gon whispered, stroking trembling fingers through his soft, red-gold hair. “Don’t apologise. You’re so beautiful, and I am not strong enough to resist you.”
Obi-Wan shuddered and rested his cheek against Qui-Gon’s knee. The lad was a knot of tension, shaking between his legs—and still hard.
“I suppose I should assign penance,” Qui-Gon murmured thoughtfully. He bent down and reached between Obi-Wan’s legs—finding, to his delight, that he could cup all of Obi-Wan’s cock in his hand. Qui-Gon squeezed. The moan that he got for it was utterly broken. “Don’t you think so?”
Obi-Wan nodded, almost frantically.
He stared at Obi-Wan’s lips, parted and red and shining. At his glimmering eyes, at the tiniest trace of tears on his lashes. Qui-Gon’s cock lay soft and bare between his legs, cooling. It was impossible not to think of where it had just been, with that tempting mouth still in front of him. Qui-Gon drew his thumb across Obi-Wan’s lower lip, pushed gently against it. With a shuddering sigh, Obi-Wan sucked him in.
“Poor lad,” Qui-Gon murmured. He squeezed again at his precious handful, and started stroking the heel of his hand up and down the clothed cock. “I know how you strive to be perfect, how hard you try. But this crude body, it’s a weak thing, isn’t it?”
Obi-Wan gave a quiet sniffle.
“Yes,” Qui-Gon agreed. “I can help you tame it, if you’ll let me.”
A reckless offer to make. But Obi-Wan looked at him so beseechingly. One hand closed gingerly around Qui-Gon’s wrist and Qui-Gon’s thumb slipped from that hot, wet mouth as Obi-Wan pulled back.
“Please. Take this wrongness from me,” Obi-Wan begged him. “Please, Father.”
Qui-Gon swallowed heavily. “Let me see you.”
He waited while Obi-Wan peeled away his layers, shoved his own trousers down. His cock was barely visible under his shirttails, hard and leaking, but Qui-Gon could see the damp spot it had left on his pants.
“There’s a good lad,” he whispered. “Up on your knees, now.”
He took Obi-Wan in hand and gripped him mercilessly tight, spreading the slickness down his cock in a slow glide. When it looked as though Obi-Wan might topple backwards, Qui-Gon grabbed his shoulder to keep him upright as he stroked, slow and tight, with a twist at the tip.
“First,” he said, “we must rid you of this distraction.”
Obi-Wan bucked up into his fist.
“Eager, aren’t you?” Qui-Gon grinned, adding an especially rough twist. Obi-Wan caught his steadying arm with a whimper. “I’ve been thinking of you, too, lad. How often have you come to the thought of those fantasies of yours?”
Obi-Wan gasped and stared up at him, trembling. “I—I tried not to,” he stammered.
Something hot and prickling lit up in Qui-Gon’s chest. He raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve denied yourself?”
Obi-Wan’s blush stained his cheeks a sudden, furious red. Qui-Gon grinned, and slipped his hand down to cup Obi-Wan’s balls. “So full. You’ve been struggling all this time, and your naughty balls have been filling up with evidence of your sinful nature.”
A sound tore itself free from Obi-Wan’s throat, shaped suspiciously like a sob. “Father!”
“Don’t worry, lad,” Qui-Gon soothed him, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispered, and stroked him faster. “You are in God’s hands now, Obi-Wan. You can let it all go.”
Obi-Wan went over the edge, clinging to Qui-Gon’s shoulder with his fingers clawing into the sleeve. Qui-Gon stroked him through it, holding the trembling body close, one arm wrapped awkwardly around Obi-Wan’s back.
He waited until Obi-Wan had caught his breath, then carefully lowered the lad back down onto his haunches.
“Now here is your penance,” Qui-Gon told him. “You will come with me to my office and strip yourself bare. You will bend over my desk, and recite to me ‘Domine, non sum dignus’ ten times. I will spank you,” he added. “The longer it takes you to recite, the more spanks you will receive.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “Thank you, Father.”
“And you will come to me,” Qui-Gon went on, with steel in his voice, “you will come to me whenever you feel the need again. We will discuss your—” his eyes flicked down to Obi-Wan’s softening cock, to the come splattered on his pale thighs “—your fantasies.”
Obi-Wan’s blush went deeper still. “Is that—necessary, Father?”
“You’ve left it too long, I’m afraid. Only a regular cleansing will purge you of a sin so deeply rooted.”
Obi-Wan swallowed heavily, and nodded. “I—yes. Forgive me, Father.”
Qui-Gon leaned forward and took Obi-Wan’s face in his hands again. “Te absolvo,” he murmured, and kissed him.
Obi-Wan sank into it with a soft, happy sound, and it was everything Qui-Gon could have dreamed.