Close to the Edge
by sidewinder (sidewinder@fanfiction.net)
Series: Love Song Seres, #3.
Follows "And I Moved" and "Early Morning
Dreams"...but it's not a song fic this time. Nope,
not at all, just got a little too weird for that.
Archive: m_a, my homepage only
(http://members.aol.com/amyaallen/sidewinder.html)
Summary: An afternoon of "meditation" gets a little
out of hand.
Rating: R
Warnings: I'm still in a terribly strange mood.
Category: my beta says it's far from a PWP, so I
guess I'd call it Drama, then.
Feedback: yes, please.
Disclaimer: the boys belong to George Lucas, alas.
Thanks: to Shari for reading it and telling me it
actually made sense :-) Remaining mistakes are my bad
Qui-Gon generally found the Temple gardens an
ideal place for meditation. The living Force was
strong there, as it was in all places where nature
thrived, and on the city-planet of Coruscant there
were few nature reserves as large and well-
maintained as those at the Jedi Temple. The
gardens were open to the general populace to a
limited extent, as the Council felt such beauty
deserved to be appreciated by as many as possible.
Even so, the lush grounds were large enough that
there were always quiet groves and corners to be
found, away from curious visitors and the well-
traveled paths.
The particular location Qui-Gon had chosen this
afternoon was one of those places, a shady spot
canopied by lush, tropical vegetation. A stream
trickled past nearby, gently washing over smoothed
stones and then hurrying on toward the waterfalls. The
running water and the occasional cries of birds were
the only sounds to be heard in this isolated place,
which made it perfect for quiet contemplation and
meditation.
Or so he'd thought.
Qui-Gon was finding it oddly difficult to surrender
his mind to the Force today. A combat
demonstration was scheduled for the evening, and
this period of mediation was necessary to prepare
for the demands of the performance. The
demonstration was primarily for the benefit of
young students at the Academy, a chance for them
to observe the skills they were beginning to learn,
put into use by their elders. Dignitaries from
several worlds would be in attendance as well,
including U'al--the Oomari leader Qui-Gon and Obi-
Wan had befriended on Grii several weeks before.
She was still uncertain as to whether her people
would forge a lasting relationship with the Jedi, but
she had expressed a great deal of interest in
learning about the fighting techniques taught at the
Temple. The Oomari valued such skills highly,
considering their environment was filled with
natural predators--not to mention interlopers who
often tried to intrude upon the land they held
sacred.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been asked to
participate in the demonstration--in fact, they were
to be the final performers. The request had not
surprised Qui-Gon; he knew he was regarded as
one of the Jedi's most skilled duelists. And Obi-
Wan, once a gangly, somewhat clumsy youth, had
long since left such awkwardness behind and was
becoming an equally elegant fighter, albeit with a
style uniquely his own.
Ah, Obi-Wan... Qui-Gon smiled lightly, realizing
that there lay his difficulty with relaxing today--with
his padawan, who was sitting just a short distance
away. The Jedi Master could sense that Obi-Wan's
mind was focused on something entirely different
from meditation, and his thoughts and emotions
were strong enough that they were throwing off Qui-
Gon's state of mental balance.
Desire rippled between the bond they shared,
strong and insistent. "Obi-Wan, you must quiet
your mind," Qui-Gon scolded gently.
"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon felt the intensity of the
desire lessen, even as it was tagged with a slight
mental sigh of regret. Qui-Gon left it at that and
tried again to begin his meditations.
Adjustments. Changes.
They had to be expected now, the Jedi Master knew,
and he would have to be patient with Obi-Wan as they
struggled to find balance within the new parameters
of their relationship. Obi-Wan was young, still
learning to control his emotions to the degree
required for a Jedi to stay strong to the Light Side
of the Force. Qui-Gon hoped he had been wise to
allow them to take this step forward, and that he
was right in judging Obi-Wan ready for it...
Right that he was ready for it, too.
Love between Jedi was a tricky thing--intense,
encompassing body, mind, and soul. When not true,
when the lovers were not truly compatible, the
relationship often disintegrated quickly and badly.
Qui-Gon had experienced as much a few times in
his life... enough times to have made him careful,
and to make him understand why so many Jedi
seemed to prefer the solitary life, or the well-
defined boundaries of a platonic master/padawan
relationship. There was also danger to be found in
love, the danger that came from passion, from the
dark side of desire. And that was certainly a danger
he had to keep in his thoughts at this early stage of
their relationship, when things were at their most
fragile stage.
Qui-Gon took a deep, cleansing breath and let go of
these thoughts for now, and at last his mind began
to drift into a light meditative trance. He became
increasingly in tune with the living Force all around
him, felt it start to ease away the tension in his
body and mind.
It was most disconcerting to him, then, when after
a time an image seeped into his mind, startling and
demanding in its eroticism. He was assaulted by a
vision of himself and Obi-Wan--naked, writhing in
bed linens soaked with sweat, bodies grinding
together in a frenzied search for release...
"Obi-Wan..." he scolded again, a little more sharply
than before.
"I'm sorry, Master," the young man apologized, and
the image immediately faded away. "It seems my
distraction got the better of me again."
Qui-Gon sighed. "We must be clearly focused for
tonight's performance, Padawan. The S'hal-Da
requires complete concentration and harmony with
the Force. We cannot afford letting 'distractions' get
the better of us. Not tonight, and not in general."
"I understand. But don't you think, perhaps, we
could try a different kind of relaxation technique,
one to more easily get rid of these...distracting
thoughts? Obviously meditation is not working for
either of us at the moment."
For a moment the thought was very tempting, but
Qui-Gon pushed it aside. He had to set the
example of control for Obi-Wan, he reminded
himself. "Now is not the time."
"I beg to differ, Master," Obi-Wan shifted slightly
closer to Qui-Gon...close enough to reach up and
trail his fingertips lightly across his master's cheek.
"Now seems like the perfect time to me."
"No. Not now," Qui-Gon objected, trying to sound
stern, even as Obi-Wan's persistence and sensual
touch aroused him as much as it concerned him.
"Yes, now," the young man insisted, leaning close
to his master's ear. His warm breath tickled Qui-
Gon's skin as Obi-Wan nearly threatened, "Don't
make me beg, when you know you want this as
much as I do."
"Obi-Wan--" he made the mistake of turning his
head toward his padawan, who took immediate
advantage of the opportunity to lunge at him for a
kiss. A wave of raw, sexual hunger assaulted his
senses through the contact with his lover's lips, as
Obi-Wan's hands laid fast claim to his body. The
elder Jedi struggled to regain control of the
situation and to resist the compelling urge to
deepen this kiss--and then to take his padawan
immediately, here in the public gardens.
"Do it, Master," Obi-Wan whispered roughly after he
released Qui-Gon's lips. His clear, light eyes dared
his master to yield to the idea as he pleaded, "Take
me here, right now. I can't wait for it until later."
"Listening in on my thoughts, are you?"
"You were broadcasting that one loud enough for
every Jedi in Temple to hear," Obi-Wan laughed.
"All the more reason we shouldn't." Qui-Gon pulled
the younger man against him, letting out a
shuddering sigh against the short-cropped hair
tickling his nose. "Obi-Wan, I told you, we should
try to be cautious, and we have to learn to control
these feelings. This is not a good idea."
"Perhaps not, but you want to, don't you? You want
to kiss me again, right now. You want touch me,
here...and here..." Obi-Wan took his master's hand,
slipped it down between the young Jedi's thighs.
Obi-Wan moaned softly at the touch of those
fingers against his groin. "Yes..."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Yes, Master?" the padawan answered, glancing up
at Qui-Gon with a look that was far from innocent.
Oh, those eyes. Qui-Gon felt his resistance wilting
under their wicked sea-green gaze. He could think of
nothing more to say except to sigh in dismay, "Imp."
All his response did was cause Obi-Wan to give him
a devilish smile and say, "Yes, so you keep calling
me. If I am an imp, then what are you to me,
besides my master, of course? A draigon,
perhaps...one of the fire-breathing draigons of
Ancona."
"A draigon?"
"Yes, definitely a draigon. Because you are so
beautiful, and graceful...and deadly. Your fire could
consume me entirely...or I could ride you and soar
to heights far above the heavens..."
Qui-Gon playfully pushed Obi-Wan to the ground,
then pinned him down under his larger body as he
reprimanded, "You have been reading far too
much romantic poetry, my padawan."
"Poetry?! Are you joking?" Obi-Wan scoffed. "Cheap
pornography is more like it. Oh..." he trailed off, as
Qui-Gon used the Force to unfasten Obi-Wan's
belt, and guide his pants down his legs. All the
while Qui-Gon's hands held Obi-Wan's above his
head, and he feasted on the smooth skin of his
padawan's neck. His tongue traced over the
throbbing pulse of life just beneath his flesh as
Obi-Wan squirmed in delight.
"Let me undress you." Obi-Wan breathed harshly,
struggling against the iron grip on his hands.
"You can," Qui-Gon told him, tongue gliding up
slowly to Obi-Wan's ear. "Use the Force."
Obi-Wan groaned in protest. "Always a
lesson...can't we do this, just once, without
turning it into a lesson?"
"The day you learn to behave yourself, my imp."
Another groan, and then he felt Obi-Wan struggling
to reach out with the Force, to ignore the
distraction of Qui-Gon's tongue in his ear. After a
few failed attempts, Qui-Gon felt shadowy hands
trying to release the catch on his belt. It sprung
open at last, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow
it to slip free--
--and then he glanced up and saw the belt go
soaring overhead, a few seconds later crashing
somewhere into the treetops on the other side of
the gardens. Several birds screeched loudly in
protest at the unexpected flying object intruding
into their nesting grounds.
"Oops..." Obi-Wan apologized, even as his devilish
grin returned. "Truly, I didn't mean to do that."
"Nevertheless, I shall remove my own pants, if
you don't mind. I don't wish to be running around
bare-assed trying to find them after you're finished
with me." Obi-Wan seemed to find the image
terribly amusing and started laughing until Qui-Gon
silenced him with a kiss. "Obi-Wan, what am I
going to do with you?" he wondered aloud.
"Pound me senseless. Before I cause even more
trouble."
Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan's wrists and sat up on
his knees, sliding his pants slowly down over his
hips under his padawan's unwavering gaze.
So beautiful, master. I love you so much. I want
you so much sometimes I can think of nothing
else.
The power of Obi-Wan's emotions, so strong and
unwavering, touched Qui-Gon deeply even as they
made him wonder what he had done to deserve
such devotion.
My padawan...precious one. He slid his hands
under Obi-Wan's tunic, leaning down to claim his
lips once more.
Please, master, now...I can't stand it...
Qui-Gon pulled back and paused for a moment,
searching out their immediate surroundings and
quickly finding what he was looking for. The Oman
plants bore fruit filled with a slippery, somewhat
slimy pulp. One of those would do. He reached with
the Force to pull a ripe fruit from a nearby plant,
and squeezed it as it fell into his hand.
"How very clever," Obi-Wan purred, licking his lips
at the sight of the glistening golden juice that was
dripping down Qui-Gon's wrist. Qui-Gon held out
his slickened hand, letting his lover lick some of
the liquid from his fingertips. But then he pulled
back and squeezed more of the liquid onto his
hand, and ran his fingers against and then into
Obi-Wan's ass.
The young man moaned and he arched up with
delight. "Please...please..."
Qui-Gon tormented him a little longer, making sure
he was as ready as his breathless claims. Then he
pulled free and squeezed the last of the fruit's juice
onto his erection. He lifted Obi-Wan's legs and
found shelter between them, driving into the warm
and eager body of his beloved.
"Oh, master, oh yes...!" Obi-Wan's words came as a
strangled half-sob, half-triumphant cry. Whichever,
it was certainly loud. If anyone was in the nearby
area besides the birds, they were certainly
about to get an earful.
Strangely, Qui-Gon found he didn't give a damn.
He didn't give a damn about anything at that moment
except surrendering his body to the rhythm of
love, the ancient beat that seemed to pound through
the Force, through his connection to his padawan.
He was on the edge of losing himself to the
passion, dangerously close, and yet he held
on, for his sake and for Obi-Wan's, above all.
master oh I love you I love this don't stop don't
stop never never stop
never...
never never leave me promise me we'll always
have this promise me forever
forever Obi-Wan...forever...
The heat, of the delicious heat of this body...the
fenzied warmth of Obi-Wan's love pouring through
their connection, the flood of words and emotion
and thought that left him dizzy, yearning for more...
To lose oneself in this...so easy. So tempting...
master love you qui-gon master
Yes, he could feel it, he felt it in the fire of Obi-
Wan's body, his soul and spirit, the call to
surrender himself to it and forget everything else.
But no, he wouldn't, he couldn't give in to that
desire. To do so would be to lead them both to the
Dark Side, into a dangerous place where obsession
could consume their love, leave it bitter and torn.
No...padawan, hold on to me, control--
"Master!" Obi-Wan cried out, the orgasm rushing
through his body even as Qui-Gon drew them away
from that dark place, dampening the fury of their
shared release as best as he could and pulling it to
himself, away from Obi-Wan. He arched back as it
hit him hard, pain and pleasure, demanding,
devastating...
Master... A worried voice, tinged with fear,
enough to pull him back and away from the edge.
Emotionally and physically drained, Qui-Gon
slipped out of Obi-Wan's body and fell to the
ground, pulling his lover against him, needing his
warmth to chase away the chill that clung to him.
Obi-Wan trembled in his arms, and Qui-Gon knew
he understood.
"Master, are you all right? I'm sorry, I..."
After several calming, deep breaths, Qui-Gon
answered, "I'm fine, Obi-Wan. And no apologies. A
necessary lesson, for both of us." He stroked his
lover's hair, then lifted his chin in his palm to look
into Obi-Wan's eyes. "You're right, love, my fire
could consume you. As yours could consume me, if
we are not careful. Can you see that, now?"
Obi-Wan nodded his head. "It felt so good, I
couldn't stop...I just kept wanting more..." He
shuddered and tightened his grip on Qui-Gon.
"What if I can't do this, Master? What if I'm not
strong enough?"
"You are. Do not doubt yourself. And I will not let
you fall. I won't."
After a few minutes of silence, Obi-Wan gave a
shaky laugh and said, "Well, so much for relaxing."
"Come." Qui-Gon sat up. "Let's go try to find my
belt before one of the Jinta birds decorates her nest
with it. And then I think another lesson in control
is in order--though I'd prefer that we conduct it
somewhere more private than here."
His light tone helped convince Obi-Wan that no
harm was done, and the young Jedi smiled. "Yes,
Master. I think that is a very good idea, indeed."
The arena was dark--dark as night and just as
silent. The final performance was about to begin,
and a hush had settled over the audience as they
awaited what they expected to be the highlight of
the evening.
Qui-Gon stood on one side of the battle stage, hand
ready on his lightsaber, mind clear, no anxiety
clouding his thoughts. He reached out and felt his
padawan's presence across the stage and sensed he
was equally ready--even if slightly eager to begin.
Obi-Wan returned his master's call and tagged it
with a light caress.
Love you.
Always. Ready?
Yes.
Begin.
Two lightsabers hummed to life and cut through the
darkness, arching toward each other in mirrored
swirls of light. They struck, then circled and struck
again, beginning the well-known movements of the
S'hal-Da. Extremely demanding for even a well-
trained Jedi, the S'hal-Da was more dance than
battle, a work of art created by the carefully
choreographed movements of their lightsabers.
Their boots striking the ground and the hum of
their blades through the air was the music of the
dance, pulsing and rhythmic, almost hypnotic to the
observer when performed well.
Their S'hal-Da started with the traditional
movements; they had practiced them in endless
training sessions and performed the dance many times
before. But tonight, they would truly make it their
own. Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's question as they
approached the middle passage of the dance: Can
we, Master?
Yes, Qui-Gon answered after only the briefest
hesitation, and he felt Obi-Wan's delight as the
young man somersaulted over his head and began
the "modified" S'hal-Da they had performed only in
private until now. Qui-Gon knew tonight they
shared the synchronicity needed to carry off the
even more demanding movements they had
developed in their training exercises, ones that
showcased their particular personal strengths as
fighters. The Jedi Master moved in fluid strokes,
spirals and elegant arcs that encircled the staccato
strikes and steps of his padawan. They moved
across the floor, then up into the air onto the
raised platforms nearly invisible in the darkness.
Qui-Gon sensed the ripples around them, the other
Jedi noticing the divergence from the traditional
performance with various degrees of shock and
surprise. The younger students only responded with
enthusiastic chatter and applause until they were
shushed quiet, and Qui-Gon smiled to himself--
assuredly, the teachers would have their hands full
tomorrow as the young ones tried to mimic what
they saw tonight. Qui-Gon did not let these
thoughts distract him, however. He moved at the
last instant as Obi-Wan's blade cut downward
through the air where he'd been standing, and then
they whirled together through the final section of
the S'hal-Da, at last returning to the traditional
movements to close. They drove at each other,
faster and faster, riding the Force and moving as
one, no fear, no hesitation, nothing but complete
trust.
This afternoon had provided a valuable lesson to
them both--a reminder of what they had, all that
they could lose if they were not careful. They walked
a fine line in following this path, one that required
as much trust and control as this battle-dance if
they were not to fall.
Their saber blades struck one final time, then held
together in a cross of light, and then they powered
off their weapons, letting the darkness fall over the
room once again.
Slowly the audience seemed to recover their senses
and began to applaud, and the arena lights were
raised to allow the two Jedi to bow before the
assembly and accept the acknowledgement of their
performance. Obi-Wan's elation was barely restrained,
as he sent waves of gratitude at his master for
allowing them to perform their personal "dance" this
night. Qui-Gon shared in his delight in that moment--
even as he sensed that not all in the audience were
pleased by what they had just seen.
There was a short reception after the performance
but Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did not stay long; they
were both too tired, and eager to seek out some
solitude and rest. Qui-Gon was unwinding in their
quarters with a cup of tea while Obi-Wan took first
turn in the 'fresher when he heard the door chime
softly. He rose to his feet as he called, "Enter."
Mace Windu stood in the doorway. Qui-Gon bowed
slightly and asked, "Master Windu, how might I
help you?"
"I wished to offer my appreciation for your
performance tonight. It was perhaps the
most...unique presentation of the S'hal-Da I have
seen. Our guests tonight commented most
positively on the skill demonstrated."
"Thank you, Master. I realize we diverged from the
traditional presentation."
"True. But I know following tradition has never been
your strong suit, Qui-Gon Jinn." Windu's eyes held
upon Qui-Gon's as he added, "Some worry that
could still be your downfall. Yours...and your
padawan's."
Qui-Gon answered simply, "Mistakes made once
will not be made again."
"You are certain of that?"
"I am."
"We will hold you to that, then." The room fell
silent for a moment, and then Windu added, "May
the Force be with you," before turning to leave.
Qui-Gon waited until the door closed to answer
quietly, "Yes, I hope that it is."
End