Den of Chaos Fiction
Star Wars: the Phantom Menace


by Zee


Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. All you will get is 4 really pissed off cats, a mostly non-functional computer and a box full of Jedi merchandise.


The anger surprised Obi-Wan, coming as it did, seemingly from nowhere. There was no reason for him to be angry at Qui-Gon. It was no fault of his Master's that they were mired on this planet, caught between two enemies who had no desire for peace. Hatred beat here, a constant throbbing in time to the pulse of the rain, to the violent screams of the dying. There was no way to stop it, to end the hatred. They had tried. Tried and failed.

All their diplomatic maneuverings had been for naught. The hunger to lash out, to hurt, permeated this place and its people. Maybe the anger he felt shouldn't surprise him. Maybe it was born from the bloodied, still faces of those too young to die. Maybe he had simply been infected by the emotions of those he had been forced to kill. He could feel them still, gnawing at his soul, each claiming their own piece of his innocence, his serenity. He now knew why the Jedi did not fight wars. They were negotiators, peacebrokers. To kill living creatures was anathema. But kill he had. Forced to do so in order to survive. Now the Force echoes of each death rippled across his mind, phantom voices begging him for a mercy he had no power to grant.

He had killed before. Being Qui-Gon's Padawan had placed him in dangerous situations that had called for him to respond to life threatening violence with life extinguishing defense. But he'd never felt the same kind of sickness afterwards, a miasma that clung to his soul, leaving him feeling tarnished, grimy in a way that wouldn't come clean. It could be the sheer numbers that were getting to him, or the relentlessness of the assaults. No matter where they sought shelter, what hiding place they found, they were always discovered. And the attacks that followed were brutal. They had no illusions that if captured they would be treated fairly. It was obvious that capture was not on the agenda.

Death was.

And so they had been forced to fight, and fight again, madly scrambling to get away. His limbs had long since gone numb, deadened with exhaustion, and still they slogged onward. There was no respite, no end, no hope in sight.

The anger burned again, no longer a surprise, welcomed even, as it brought a flare of warmth with it, a burning in his stomach and a creeping sensation along his spine. This time he let it soak into him as the rain had long since done to his garments. He was never sure afterwards what had warned Qui-Gon, how he had known that his Padawan was willingly sinking, embracing the flares of anger sparking within him and surrendering to the hate surrounding them.

"No!" Qui-Gon's voice was sharp, shocking him, stopping his slide into darkness.

"Master... help me." He felt strong hands frame his face and tilt it upwards. Warm lips descended, ravishing his mouth. The warmth from the hatred glowing within him was submerged, replaced by the hot flares of desire that cascaded over him. He had wanted this forever, to feel his Master's body pressed against him in lust, in need. To think that it was happening now, in this place, surrounded by muck and rain, hate and death. Maybe there was no more fitting place than here, now.

And that was the last conscious thought Obi-Wan had.

"Now what?" Qui-Gon thought as he held the slumped body of his Padawan in his arms. They had no shelter and as far as he knew there was none near. He knew he was too weak to carry Obi-Wan far and too tired to maintain the Force-induced sleep he had invoked in his apprentice. And how was he to deal with the events which had made it necessary to manipulate his Padawan's mind? A shudder went through him, caused more by the closeness of Obi-Wan's faltering in the light than by the cold rain slithering down his back. He should have seen this coming. For all that Obi-Wan was a skilled apprentice, his Padawan was still learning. His connection to the Living Force was weak, overshadowed by the emotions of the creatures they came in contact with. It was his main failing, if it could be called that, his receptiveness and empathic connection to other life forms. It was an asset in peace negotiations but not during war. No wonder he had been overcome. Qui-Gon sighed as he hefted the limp body over his other shoulder and continued to walk wearily onward, eyes blearily searching for shelter. His mind once again worrying over the events of the day.

There was also the problem of the desire that had flared between them. How to handle that? A lifetime of self-honesty forced him to admit that he knew exactly how he wanted to "handle" that. Visions of the strong lean body of his apprentice filling him were never far from his mind. But the Code forbade Master/Padawan sexual pairings. However, this was a situation that called for extreme measures; marooned on a hostile planet, hunted, his Padawan in danger of being lost to the hate that breathed here.

Qui-Gon recognized the rationalizations for what they were, simply justifications for acting on his long held fantasies. But he truly did not see how else to help his apprentice. They had no time for extensive meditation and ritual purging, their force energies were sadly depleted from the weeks on the run and their attempt to stay alive. And there was little energy to draw upon on this Force-forsaken planet.

No, the usual methods for handling this were not possible here and lovemaking had long been recognized as a way to reaffirm a connection to the light side of the Force. Maybe the Council would forgive the lapse, see the necessity which drove his choice despite the overwhelming evidence of his own desire for his Padawan. But how would he go back to never touching that body, never feeling it move within him, once he had tasted the pleasure, the completeness, their joining would bring.

Answers eluded him and more pressing matters needed his attention. He must find them shelter and soon, at the very least a rock outcropping that he could use to camouflage them from the searchers. With another heavy sigh, Qui-Gon reminded himself, first things first. He would find them shelter and then worry about what to do with his Padawan.

Qui-Gon looked around the makeshift camp wearily. He had managed to find a shallow cave tucked up in the hills, hidden by trees. His Padawan continued his slumber, Force be thanked. He had removed his suggestion of sleep from Obi-Wan but the mind numbing fatigue which had dogged their every step kept his Padawan sleeping, nestled into the half dry blanket Qui-Gon had taken from his pack.

What to do now? His own body craved rest yet he was reluctant to give into its plea for sleep. He was afraid Obi-Wan would awaken while he slept. His Padawan would be confused and angry at being manipulated so, and he knew that Obi-Wan's anger at him had to be diffused quickly, lest it lead his Padawan back into darkness. He could wake Obi-Wan and address the events that had transpired this day, yet he was still unsure. He had not been able to find any answers to his concerns.

Was he simply seizing an opportunity to flout the Code and have his heart's desire or was making love to Obi-Wan truly the best solution? He knew their joining would restore badly needed serenity to his Padawan. It would keep Obi-Wan safe from the Dark, from the hatred that had started to plant its seeds within him. Again, he worried that it was his own desires that were leading him to decide that this was the right path to chose. His mind was going in circles, exhaustion clouding his thought processes, keeping him from reaching a firm conclusion. The important thing to remember was Obi-Wan. The Code be damned. The Council was not here and his Padawan needed him, needed him in a way he was happy to comply with.

He would put Obi-Wan first, as was his duty as a Master. The consequences could be dealt with later and Qui-Gon had no illusions on that point, dealt with they would be. Be present in the moment, he reminded himself. Focus on the here and now. And the inescapable fact was that there truly was only one avenue available to save his Padawan. Decision made, Qui-Gon settled close to his Padawan, ranging his long body up against Obi-Wan's and pulling him close. He sent a soft tendril of Force into his slumbering Padawan's mind. //Obi-Wan?//

Obi-Wan felt a gentle query from his Master stroke his mind. There was no alarm in the inquiry and for a moment he contemplated ignoring it. Relatively comfortable for the first time in days he wished for nothing more than to stay in the warm cocoon of sleep that surrounded him. Yet, although there had been no alarm, there was a touch of anxiety underlying his Master's call. And that he could not ignore. He pulled himself slowly from his rest, blinking his eyes as they adjusted to the half light that filtered in around them.

"Master?" His voice seemed loud, echoing off the rock walls surrounding them. He felt a stirring of anger as he realized he had no memory of getting there. The last memory he had was of Qui-Gon's lips on his and then a mental wave of force had washed over him, instructing him to sleep. His Master had used their bond to manipulate him, to send him to sleep. Worse, he had used Obi-Wan's desire against him, taking advantage of the opening in his shields caused by the intimacy of their kiss. Anger blossomed, feeding on the seeds of darkness trying to take root in his soul. His Master had broken his trust. The thought was black and bitter and hate reared up inside him again.

"No." Qui-Gon's voice was soft, a direct contrast to the arms that tightened around him, holding his body snugly against his Master's larger frame. "No, Obi-Wan. I did not break your trust. I took no advantage. You were slipping into the darkness, losing yourself to the hate of this place. It was my duty as your Master to do what was necessary to stop that."


The word resounded in Obi-Wan's mind. That was what the kiss had been about for Qui-Gon, not the culmination of years of desire and want that it had been for Obi-Wan. He felt all his secret dreams, his futile hopes, shatter on that word. Duty. He felt empty. Despair crawled through him, twining into the shoots of hatred growing within him. Again, he heard Qui-Gon's voice.

"No, my Obi-Wan, that is not how it was."

Obi-Wan realized he was broadcasting, sending his thoughts along the link he shared with his Master. Obi-Wan quickly blocked the link, shoring up his defenses. He would not be manipulated again.

"Obi-Wan, listen to me." His Master's voice was urgent, the words underlaid with more than a touch of frustration and fear.

"What, Master?" Obi-Wan couldn't believe that the mocking, sneering tone was his. What was happening to him? He could feel emotions growing in him, surging against his soul, battering against the light he carried within. Fear shook him.

"Master?" This time he was hesitant, uncertainty clouding his voice.

"Easy, my Obi-Wan." His Master's voice was soothing, a balm to his confused soul. It brought back memories of their early days together when he had sought the shelter of his Master's care after particularly bad nightmares. "I am here, my Padawan. You are not alone. We can fight the darkness together. Banish the hatred from your soul, my love."

Now shock rocked through Obi-Wan, causing him to roll over and face his Master, still caught within the embrace of those strong arms. Love? His Master loved him? Wanted him? For that was what the words had conveyed. Not just the paternal love of a Master for his Padawan but the love and desire of one man for another.

He heard a warm chuckle. "Yes, my Obi-Wan, you are correct. I do love and desire you as a partner." Obi-Wan realized that in his shock over Qui-Gon's declaration he had allowed his shields to weaken. This time he left them down and felt their bond pulse with the need that flowed between them.

"Master." The word was barely a breath, a slight sound carried softly by the wind that seemed to gently caress them. He brought his lips up to Qui-Gon's and caught them in a kiss. His tongue stroked over his Master's lips, demanding entrance to that warm mouth. Obi-Wan groaned, pressing his body harder against his Master, tangling their legs. He ran his hands into Qui-Gon's hair, feeling the wet strands curl around his fingers. His Master's hands moved under his tunic, stroking over his ribcage, the coldness of his Master's fingers quickly warming against his desire flushed skin. This was every dream he'd ever had coming true, better even because it was real. He had never let himself believe that this would happen, that his Master would seek him out in desire. His body ached at the thought. His cock, hard and full, pushed against his Master's, meeting an answering hardness.

"Yes..." The word was a sibilant hiss as Qui-Gon exhaled. "Obi-Wan, please..."

Obi-Wan's hands reached for his Master's leggings, removing them quickly in answer to Qui-Gon's plea. He slid down, nuzzling his face into his Master's groin, inhaling deeply, savoring Qui-Gon's scent. His tongue slid out, caressing his Master's organ, licking slowly from root to tip and back again. He felt Qui-Gon arch up against him, his hands clutching at Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Please..." His Master's voice was hoarse, thickened with desire and lust.

Obi-Wan slowly opened his mouth and took Qui-Gon inside, sucking gently as he moved downward, swallowing his Master's cock until his lips were pressed to its base. He moved his tongue, sliding it up and down against the cock engulfed by his mouth. He could feel Qui-Gon's seed pulsing within, his cock throbbing with need. Obi-Wan swallowed, stroking his Master with his throat, and felt Qui-Gon's release start. He eagerly welcomed the taste of his Master, swallowing greedily as Qui-Gon exploded in his mouth. His Master's essence filled him, easing the darkness within. He lifted his head from the still semi-erect organ, swiping it clean with quick, cat-like laps of his tongue before raising his head to again claim Qui-Gon's lips in a kiss. A kiss made all the more sweet by the taste of his Master still burning within his mouth.

The need was still there, beating within them both, flooding their bond. He looked at his Master, seeking unspoken permission. Heat flared in Qui-Gon's eyes, lighting Obi-Wan's soul. He slid a finger into his Master's mouth and watched Qui-Gon's cheeks hollow as he sucked, thoroughly wetting the digit as he pulled it in and out, mimicking what was soon to occur between their bodies.

Obi-Wan reluctantly removed his finger from the hot wetness of his Master's mouth and slid it down to caress Qui-Gon's entrance. Using an additional touch of the Force he slipped his finger inside, feeling his Master's tightness clench around it. He moved slowly, accustoming Qui-Gon to the intrusion. Obi-Wan could feel his Master's body opening to him, welcoming him. He slid another finger inside, scissoring them quickly as the desire coursed fever high through him. Swiftly he licked his other hand and used it to slick his cock. Pushing Qui-Gon's legs upward, Obi-Wan positioned himself.

Obi-Wan looked at his Master's face, always strong and beautiful, but made more so by the passion and need written across it now. He entered him slowly, allowing Qui-Gon's body to adjust to his girth, until he was fully sheathed within his Master. Obi-Wan paused, allowing the feeling of being joined with his Master to fill him, to burn away the darkness that had tried to ensnare him. He groaned as Qui-Gon lifted his hips, clenching his muscles and demanding movement.

Obi-Wan complied, thrusting in and out of his Master's body, rhythm building faster and faster as the need completely overtook him. He pounded into his Master's body, feeling his climax approaching and wishing desperately to delay it, to make this joining last forever. But he was too close, he had wanted this for too long, and the reality of his Master's body clenching around him, that tight heat clasping him, was too much. He felt Qui-Gon's body rock with the force of his own orgasm and Obi-Wan came, whispering his Master's name as he flooded Qui-Gon's body with his seed.

As the last shudders of his climax crashed over him he felt his Master's arms, solid and real, surround him, pulling him tight against that beloved body. Within the circle of his Master's embrace he felt the newly rekindled warmth of hope. Light filled him, uprooting the last of the darkness, as he heard his Master's voice.

"For always, my Obi-Wan. For always."


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