Wedge Antilles looked up. He had not heard the opening of the door or the footsteps of the young recruit. Pretending that the vid-screen held his interest and not the doodles he made with the light pen, Wedge lifted his eyes.
"The reports from the Outer Rim, sir." The youth placed a stack of data disks on the desk, saluted and left after the general returned his salute.
Another few hours of drudgework, of sifting through reports and annotating briefs, lurked within the pile of data disks. With a groan, Wedge shifted in his chair to look at the various labels. Even the names looked dull. One after another, the disks fell into a lopsided pile. Suddenly, the fall of data disks stopped and Wedge fingered the last one in his hands and traced the letters.
Tatooine. How long has it been now? Three months? Four months? It feels like yesterday; it feels like forever.
Evening had already fallen on Coruscant, the lights of the air traffic blinking in the darkness like a myriad of ever-moving constellations. When Wedge had last looked out of the window, sunshine had filtered between the buildings and glinted off the metal surfaces. Now, only a flickering of light was seen, barely illuminating the multi-various structures that covered the city planet. If he closed his eyes half way and imagined hard enough, gazing out of the window was like looking at a holo-map of the galaxy.
He just needs time, he needs to be alone. I should be able to grant him that.
Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, he turned so that he could face the window and imagine a little more. Tatooine, the last time he saw Tatooine.
But I miss him.
The voice was whisper soft; everything here was soft and wraith like, a blue haze drifted around all the figures, cushioning sound and movement. However, the voice did not come from one of the other shades. It came from somewhere far away; it came from a spirit still trapped inside the body. Qui-Gon hung his head and sighed.
The galaxy was set out before his eyes, pinpricks of light on dark. Qui-Gon had seen many of those planets, spoken with many of the peoples who lived there. A vast majority more he only saw this way, as a shade himself, gazing at the vast expanse of time and space. A thought of some past, his past, flitted through his mind.
Almost like the star-map room in the Temple. I almost expect the systems to illuminate, if I could touch them.
His finger could trace the outline of star systems, but it always landed on the same one lately. Tatooine.
Why Tatooine, love? Why not somewhere less, harrowing?
If he could tumble down, pitch headfirst back into life, he would. He could almost feel himself falling, if he reached out hard enough. But when his eyes opened, Qui-Gon was still among the Blessed Dead. How long had it been now? Yesterday he was a padawan, this morning he had a padawan. But now? Now he was here and his padawan ...
He will be all right. In time, he will be all right.
And Qui-Gon reached out and tried to touch the voice, the spirit, the force of the one who had uttered his name. A memory of life rushed over him, the last time he had seen Tatooine.
I still miss you.
"This is where you want to stay for the next few months?" Wedge looked around incredulously at the small hut. He then dropped the box he was carrying and turned to stare at Luke with even stronger disbelief.
"It isn't all that bad, Wedge. If it was good enough for Ben, then it's good enough for me. Besides, I've been here before." Luke gently placed his lightsaber on a table and flicked on a holo-lamp.
"You knew what is was like and still came back? You're unbelievable, Jedi." Rubbing his arms, he headed for the small cot that Luke had sat down on. Wedge wouldn't have volunteered to carry that box if he had known Luke was bringing a year's supply of plasti-crete blocks with him.
"Unbelievable? I suppose I'm still working my way to 'inscrutable' or 'stoic' Jedi Master." He slowly slid one arm around the man that sat next to him. Luke ran his hand up Wedge's back, leant in to kiss him, and then suddenly stopped.
"Lay down," he whispered, lips brushing his lover's dark hair.
"Hmmm? Already?" Wedge turned his head, his mouth catching Luke's in a lazy kiss.
"You're wound up tighter than a perma-spring, lay down."
Obi-Wan walked down the eerily quiet corridor of the Queen's ship. He had gotten the Skywalker boy to finally calm down and stop asking questions about anything and everything. The whole ship felt as if a cloud of tension oppressed it. Obi-Wan could feel the weight, thick and strong, but nebulous at best. Whatever the tension threatened would come and he couldn't stop it. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and walked into the small chamber he was sharing with Qui-Gon.
His master stood in the middle of the room, stripped to the waist and barefoot. When he faced his apprentice, Obi-Wan noticed Qui-Gon held a small phial of massage oil. He stepped forward and reached for the phial. One hand clasped his in a tight grip and led that hand to Qui-Gon's lips.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon pressed his lips to the hand he held and kissed the knuckles. "What did you do while I was gone? Worry yourself into mess of taut nerves?"
"Of course not. I was vigilant, that's all." A hopeful smile died on his lips; they both knew two days of anxiety fueled restlessness did not count as vigilance. Obi-Wan could read the weariness he felt in Qui-Gon's eyes.
"I could use you to string a kythara, Padawan.7quot; Murmuring as a palm slid from his lips to his cheek, Qui-Gon bowed his head and kissed Obi-Wan's forehead. "Come, relax. We have time."
Slim, strong fingers dug into tense muscle, easing pain and stress. Luke knelt over the body of his lover, his thumbs pressing into the base of Wedge's neck. A muffled grunt came from the direction of Wedge's head as Luke massaged slow, firm circles. When the tension eased, Luke bent forward and nuzzled the nape of the other man's neck. Quietly kissing the sweat damp hair and skin, Luke covered the area his fingers just touched with his mouth.
"Do you have any idea how much I love doing this for you?" He asked playfully, hoping to get more than a grunt as a response this time.
"hnn? How much? Doing what?" Wedge replied, the heat of Luke's bare chest covering his back and then receding as the man sat up and placed his hands on Wedge's shoulders.
"Touching you. The way your shoulders fit under the palms of my hands." Luke moved his hands carefully over muscle and sinew, fingers curving over collarbone. Kneading the flesh, he could feel his own muscles tense and ease with each movement. He was strong, but not strong as his lover was. Broad shoulders, the smooth definition of biceps, Luke's fingertips trailed over both and mapped them out in his mind. He would need something to remember during his short exile.
"I can feel your muscles under my hands, the blood pounding in your body." Digging the base of his hands into the hard muscle of Wedge's back Luke continued the massage. The plane of his back was flat, smooth and marked with a few scars. But the intricate pattern of bone and muscle underneath was worth exploration. This was his lover, this complex pattern of flesh and bone, blood and organs, skin and hair, all knit together by an even more complex soul.
"Oh, gods, that's so good Luke, harder." A stifled moan accompanied the statement as Wedge writhed under the ministrations of his lover. Luke was able to find the exact places where he ached and to work out all the knots with a relentless and ever soothing touch.
Content with the seeping away of tension that he could sense in Wedge's body and the hazy look in his eyes, Luke rested his hands in the center of Wedge's back. One fingertip painted a line down the spinal column then made its way back up, finding each vertebra.
"Do you know what your skin feels like? Hot and cold, the reason and relief for my desire. Tough enough to take few blaster shots, delicate enough to bleed when I rake my nails over it."
A shiver slithered down Wedge's back as Luke scratched fingernails over his flanks and down to the waistband of his undershorts. Luke tugged and slid the clothing off as his lover lifted his hips from the cot. Arousal surged through his limbs as he skimmed the palm of his hand over his lover's thigh and with a growl Luke stood up and let the rest of his clothing drop off.
"I love the way your body feels against mine."
Qui-Gon knelt on the bed, Obi-Wan's body naked and taut with unvoiced pain beneath him. A slow line of oil trickled over his padawan's back, from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. Silent, they let skin touch skin in an effort to reduce the stress of the mission.
Easing his hands around the curve of his padawan's shoulder Qui-Gon began to rub in a circular pattern. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the warm oil that slid between his hands and the pale skin under them. The soft length of Obi-Wan's braid tickled his thumb and Qui-Gon opened his eyes to push the hair out of his way. The urge to press his lips to the area of his lover's scalp where the braid started made Qui-Gon take pause.
"My Obi-Wan." An almost wordless whisper exited his throat, as mouth connected with the area of skin behind Obi-Wan's right ear. The young man raised his head and twisted around despite the pain to beg a kiss. Lips brushed almost chastely before Obi-Wan dropped his head back down to the pillows.
"Please, Master, just don't stop." Obi-Wan spoke into the pillow, willing himself to relax and enjoy the attention his master gave him.
"As if I could, Obi-Wan." Lifting his head, Qui-Gon eased his hands over the flat of Obi-Wan's back and set about easing the bonds of worry that held his padawan. He pressed his hands firmly into the rigid muscles but kneaded less insistently where he knew it would cause more pain than pleasure.
As his hands moved over Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon gazed at the skin that was so much smoother, so much more susceptible than the callused skin of his hands. But then, no, Obi-Wan was Jedi and he could take as much as the Force gave. Not that he deserved suffering; yet, did not he deserve to be shielded from it, either. With a heavy sigh, Qui-Gon realized the tension was pressing down on him, too. Releasing the worry into the Force he closed his eyes again and examined Obi-Wan with his hands.
He knew every inch of Obi-Wan's body. The rise of muscle on either side of his spine, the curve of his waist and the swell of his buttocks, all of these he touched, loved, cared for as a master and a lover. Hands moved down the line of Obi-Wan's spine and rested on both hips. Qui-Gon now rubbed in a comforting way; his padawan's muscles had relaxed and loosened up. But the tension had not eased, it fluttered at the edges of their bond no matter how hard both tried to push the annoying feeling away.
You have to relax, love, and let it all go. There is only you, I, and a journey of many light years.
Master, I'm scared, scared to worry and scared to not worry. Scared to love you too much.
Never too much love, Obi-Wan. Never. Let us give up all fear. The moment, Obi-Wan.
Yes, Qui-Gon, I wouldn't lose this moment.
Sliding his chest over Wedge's back, Luke began to suck a hard, wet path starting at the neckline. Tasting salt, sweat, soap and the dust of Tatooine on his lover, he pressed his body even closer. The throb of blood filled the tiny space that separated them with impossible heat and lust. Luke moved his mouth down Wedge's back, reluctantly lifting his body from his lover's. Wet open-mouth kisses left a shining trail on skin, mingled with the sheen of sweat, and glistened in the soft light. With a possessive smile he grabbed the larger man's thighs and brought his mouth to the sensitive skin. Persistent sucking and dexterous grazing of teeth elicited both a love mark and a whimper of desire from Wedge.
Breathless, Luke stopped and pulled his head up. Admiring his work he petted the love-bite with one fingertip and then slid that fingertip to the crease in Wedge's buttocks. Stroking past the opening and down to the back of the thighs, he let his own arousal grow. Wedge snarled Luke's name as two burning hands slid up his sides and an insistent erection pressed into his back. Luke then pulled his head back, twisting it around to force their tongues and mouths together.
An urgent kiss, an invitation, a request, an answer and an acceptance all in one tangle of mouths. Luke pushed the head in his hand back down and eased himself up on his knees. Ignoring his own hard cock for a while, he grasped the body before him by the hips again and raised Wedge off the bed a few inches. Leaning his body down to meet Wedge, with fast and eager fingers he ensured that the man was brought to full and hard arousal. Gripping the firm member in his hand, he pumped with a fast and impatient rhythm, his own penis pressing into the tight ass in front of him. A shudder tore through Wedge and he came fast and hard into Luke's hand, hot semen spilling all over both of them.
Wedge fell onto the cool, sweaty sheets and panted out his orgasm as Luke nudged his legs apart. Semen slicked fingers entered him and prepared him for loving. A touch to his prostrate ignited a spark of desire and he thrust his body against Luke's hand. A long, low whimper growled from his chest as Luke slid inside him and crashed against his body.
Luke fucked him hard and made him tense with arousal again. His body teetered on the brink of orgasm again, as swift, lust driven movement pounded him and reverberated throughout every nerve. With a shout like triumph Luke came inside him and sunk hungry, biting kisses into his shoulder. The tiny jab of pain and slide of wet skin over his back made his hips buck into the mattress below him. Luke's breath, hot and ticklish in his ear, set him over the edge and with one jerking movement he came again, more fully and with more satisfaction this time.
For a few moments they both remained, limbs loose from loving and fingers meeting to lace together in affection. Luke slid onto the cot and propped himself up on one elbow, urging Wedge to turn over and look at him by means of teasing kisses.
Sated and drowsy, Wedge maneuvered himself onto his back and stretched one arm across Luke's thigh. His other hand fingered blond hair and eyebrows, petted eyelashes and lips.
"You are never going to reach 'inscrutable' or 'stoic' that way, Jedi."
Obi-Wan shifted his body so he lay on his back as Qui-Gon stood to strip off his leggings. The bed dipped as Qui-Gon reclined next to him and slid one foot over his lower leg. Lowering shields, Obi-Wan welcomed the mental touch that sought to ease his anxiety. Qui-Gon touched his lips once, then again with his mouth before slipping his tongue against Obi-Wan's. Long minutes passed as they kissed and touched, mouths and hands seeking warmth that only intimate contact could generate.
Tangling his hand in Qui-Gon's hair, Obi-Wan drew his master's mouth from his own and looked into warm, blue eyes with longing. The nameless dread that haunted him made Obi-Wan hunger for comfort and reassurance. Qui-Gon nodded once and drew the smaller body against his own in a calming embrace.
Obi-Wan rose from the hug and knelt between Qui-Gon's legs and took a deep breath, banishing all thoughts and worries at last. He dipped his head and kissed both of his master's temples, ran his tongue over the soft skin and rough beard on Qui-Gon's cheek and kissed his mouth slowly and reverently.
The delicate brush of eyelashes tickled the darker skin of Qui-Gon's nipples before wet lips closed over them. Nuzzling the hair in the center of Qui-Gon's chest, Obi-Wan sighed and laid his cheek there in order to listen to the precious heartbeat.
Making love to every inch of exposed skin Obi-Wan kissed chest, tummy, ribcage and thighs. He smoothed the palms of his hands over Qui-Gon's flanks and legs as if the more he touched the greater his love would be. At last, he suckled and kissed the tip of Qui-Gon's penis, filling his senses with the taste and smell of sex.
He swallowed his lover and let his throat muscles relax and take him in as far as he could. His mouth desperately made love to Qui-Gon's erection, but with a tender slowness that pretended the sun would never rise or set on their love. The thrust of hardness against his throat and the tickle of wiry hair against his nose quickened his breathing. Arousal flooded his body, oozing from his groin to his limbs and heart. Wrapping one hand around his own erection, Obi-Wan stroked himself to firmness. Time suspended for them and all that mattered was this one crystalline moment. When Qui-Gon came and filled him with warm seed, he moaned softly and trembled as he forced himself not to surge up off the bed.
Sucking and licking Qui-Gon's penis until it was soft and emptied of semen, Obi-Wan made sure his lover was satisfied and cleaned up. He then pressed his head against the hard muscle of Qui-Gon's inner thigh and rested. He kissed the skin and fuzzy hair on his master's stomach until the firm pressure of Qui-Gon's hand on his lower back caused him to look up to his love.
Come inside me, Obi-Wan. I want to feel you.
Yes, oh yes, never let you go, no, oh no, no.
Kneeling once more, he poured oil over his erection and fingers, still babbling words of love over their bond. Once he entered Qui-Gon, all words stopped as he thrust and moved inside the warmth of his bondmate. Before climaxing, he pulled out partway and inscribed the feelings in his mind. The soft gasp from Qui-Gon's lips, the inimitable love in his eyes, the way his hair fell over his fore head and the hands that gave him so much more than they took - a picture he would never forget. With a final thrust, he let orgasm swallow words and images and Obi-Wan fell onto Qui-Gon's chest.
Curled up next to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan pulled blankets over them and hugged his master closer to his body.
"Just you and I, Qui-Gon, and the journey of many light years."
Ben Kenobi gazed out across the ever-shifting sands of Tatooine. Gold and red, they reflected the last light as the twin suns set and evening approached. A few pale stars were visible in the sky as he wrapped a worn cloak around his shoulders and sat down to watch the rest of the night's lights appear. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to remember this night, if it was to be his last night on the planet. A whispered name and he recalled the first night he spent on this planet and the night after that, trying to recover from the foreboding sensation he felt that night his master was away.
Why Tatooine? The first night I spent away from you was here. But soon enough, soon enough, and the journey will be over, my love.
Watching the twin suns rise, Luke Skywalker drew his boots on outside Ben's old dwelling. Gold and red spilled over the sands and heralded a new day, warm and bright like all the others. But today he would go into town, send a message to Coruscant, and prepare to return. The Jedi cloak would have to take care of inscrutable. And as for stoic? Maybe unbelievable was better anyway.
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