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Hands Clean

Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After Obi returns from a mission, Qui starts thinking about the past.
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: I don't own Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, or anything remotely Star Wars related. No harm is intended -- this is only for fun!
Feedback: Always appreciated!

Note: This fic was originally inspired by Alanis Morrisette's "Hands Clean." I thought I had that bunny firmly stomped down, until I read Helens's lovely fic... and it rose from the dead, with big gnashing teeth! This is the result. If you haven't heard the song, go listen to it.


Why am I doing this to myself yet again?

At my age, you might think I'd know better, that I would have gotten over him by now. After all, it was my fault -- I was the one who ended it.

He's radiant, he really is. That must be it. Though we aren't supposed to be prideful, I know he's proud of himself. I'm proud of him too, more than I will admit. Having his master glow and beam and tell him how wonderful he is won't encourage the proper attitude towards such successes. And, after all, he wouldn't even be standing here today if it weren't for me.

This gathering tonight in the padawan commons is in recognition of a group of senior padawans who have just completed joint missions -- their first official assignments away from their masters, for most of them. Obi-Wan and T'nell had successfully negotiated a treaty on Harwan under difficult conditions. The Council had been quite pleased with their success. They had been given the most difficult mission anyone could remember being assigned to a pair of twenty-year-old padawans.

I shift the bottle of ale in my hand, unconsciously picking at the label. I haven't drunk this stuff since I was a padawan. It's cheap, and packs a punch. I suppose that's why they like it.

He was gone for nearly a standard month -- the longest we'd been separated in years. I'd kept busy, of course, teaching a class, working with some junior padawans. Masters of padawans on such missions generally stayed at the Temple, in case they were needed if anything went wrong.

At first, he'd contacted me daily, to tell me all about his day, what had happened, how the negotiations were developing. After a week, the calls dropped in frequency. I knew he was busy, and it didn't concern me. I was actually glad that he wasn't so dependent on me.

T'nell is striking -- tall, muscular, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes. I'm shocked at the twinge of jealousy that I feel as he watches Obi-Wan, listening intently as he repeats a story from their adventure together. They laugh, and T'nell extends an arm to touch the small of his back. The intimacy of it is disturbing.

Why am I doing this to myself?

I do not regret being Obi-Wan's lover, and I do not regret ending it. It was for the best. He was too attached to me, too... something. I didn't want him to fall in love. It was difficult to conceal our affair as it was. The relationship itself was highly inappropriate, particularly since he was seventeen at the time.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying not to remember what he felt like in my arms, his skin hot beneath mine.

When I open them again, he's watching me. I smile tightly, raising the bottle in a universal gesture of acknowledgement. He smiles warmly in return. T'nell draws his attention away with a touch. I shiver. He smiles at his new lover, who leans down to brush his lips with a soft kiss.

Time to go for a walk.

Ale in hand, I head for my favorite garden. The buzz of alcohol is pressing on my senses, and I really ought to purge it from my body. But there is something delicious about being slightly numb at times, and so I don't.

If he hadn't been so logical, so mature about the whole situation, the affair would never have started in the first place. He was persistent, finally confronting me with his feelings, knowing that I'd known for some time, knowing that I secretly enjoyed being desired by one so young and beautiful, who could have had anyone. Why he had wanted me was beyond my comprehension. I wasn't going to take advantage of the situation, but he seduced me with words that belied his age and experience.

I clearly remember thinking, as he slid down my torso that first night and took my weeping erection into his mouth -- This is a bad idea. This can only complicate things. But Obi-Wan was either oblivious to the danger, or else he really didn't care. I suspect now that it was the latter.

It was glorious, it really was -- for nearly six standard months. He was an amazing lover, and we were both insatiable. We took advantage of being on a heavy mission rotation to explore the limits of our new relationship. We were discreet, but there were so many opportunities available away from the Temple. We were roomed together quite often, and in many cases, our hosts simply assumed we were lovers, and provided us with ample privacy. It was an impression we'd taken great pains to discourage in the past, but we took advantage of it then.

We both knew that we had to keep our affair secret, and at first, it was not difficult. At the Temple, we behaved as we always had in public, even going out with other people and seeing our own friends. We weren't exclusive -- I don't think either of us truly wanted to be -- but we would always return to each other at night, to fuck ourselves senseless.

Then I began to notice the way he looked at me in the dining hall, when we passed each other in the library -- the way that his hand would sometimes brush mine. A few eyebrows began to raise, and I panicked.

I suck down the last of the ale as I sink to my knees in the grass. It's warm and flat now, the cheap taste no longer covered by a crisp chill. Now I remember why I stopped drinking this swill.

I can't get the image of T'nell kissing him so sweetly from my mind. I think that's what Obi-Wan always wanted from me, but we couldn't be open about our relationship. He understood, of course. He even brought up the subject of secrecy first, knowing that it was a concern of mine. Even at the end, we promised each other we'd never tell another soul, not even any future lovers that might come along.

The end. He was so gracious, so mature about it. Handled it much better than I did. I can still see the small, sad smile on he face when he realized was I was trying to tell him. He listened, and nodded, and told me that he understood, and that he would always care about me. And that was it. We went on a few long difficult missions after that, ones in which we were occasionally separated for a week at a time. We were so busy with our duties that we didn't have time to mourn the loss.

No, that's not true, not completely. I spent many nights pleasuring myself quietly meters away from him, wondering how he would respond if I slipped quietly into his bed. I never did.

He seemed to be fine, though, almost instantly. He discreetly brought the occasional lover back to our quarters, but they were just tricks, at least as far as I could tell. He was fine, so he hadn't been falling in love with me after all, I reasoned. He'd washed his hands of me far more quickly than I'd expected. It hurt more than I cared to admit.

I had been falling in love with him, I realize that now. So I ended it.

A slight breeze blows through the garden -- artificial, of course -- and the sensation of cloth fluttering on my skin is exhilarating. It's been a while since I've had a lover, and my body is suddenly reminding me of that fact. I close my eyes and imagine Obi-Wan and T'nell again, bodies moving against each other...

I slip one hand under my robe to stroke myself through the fabric of my leggings. My cock responds instantly, hardening beneath my fingers. I slide my hand under the waistband to take it in hand, stroking slowly, keeping that image in my mind.

Voices nearby startle me out of the fantasy and I leap to my feet, sweating and flushed. I should probably take this somewhere more private. I hurry toward my quarters, glad for the privacy this robe affords.

I palm open the door and step inside... and am genuinely surprised by the sight that awaits me. Obi-Wan and T'nell, stripped to leggings, are entwined on the sofa. Obi-Wan is leaning back against T'nell's chest, and the other padawan is stroking his chest lightly. They are both staring at me intently, as if they were waiting for me to arrive.

Oh. They...

It suddenly occurs to me that T'nell is almost the same height and build as I am. In fact, he looks much like I did 25 years ago. He looks even better sprawled there on the sofa, my padawan between his legs. He slides his hand down to pet the erection tenting Obi-Wan's leggings.

I realize that I've been holding my breath and I release it slowly, leaning back against the closed door. My robe has fallen open, and my own erection must be clearly visible, because Obi-Wan is gazing hungrily at my crotch. He licks his lower lip and pulls his gaze up to my face.

It's been a while -- years -- since that look was directed at me, that fuck me look that used to drive me insane. My cock is aching, so apparently it still does.

T'nell is watching me as well, and he now has Obi-Wan's cock in his hand, stroking slowly, teasing me with his eyes.

"Well, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispers hoarsely, "What are you going to do? Turn around and leave, or come over here and join in?"

I'm frozen to the spot. This is, honestly, a terrible idea. I am completely in love with him, I realize that now. This is not going to help one bit. They are both watching me, inviting me with their eyes, wanting me as much as I want... what do I want?

So here I am again, just like that first night -- and I realize once again that I have absolutely no idea which way this evening is going to play out.


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