Clutching My Cure

Disclaimer: They belong to Lucas and Watson. I simply enjoy them. :)


Chapter Thirty-Two


Bruck stared unseeingly over his mentor’s shoulder at the dizzying buzz of traffic. He was only half listening to Qui-Gon’s explanation of what had befallen them on this latest mission, the names of their kidnappers seeming to have slipped the rogue Jedi Master’s mind. He could sense the Council members suspicious looks resting on him occasionally and was careful not to reveal anything in his reactions.

“Padawan Chun.”

Startled at the direct address, Bruck swung a wide-eyed gaze toward the somber visage of Mace Windu. The Koran Master was leaning forward, dark gaze boring into Bruck unwaveringly.

“Yes Master Windu?”

“You were in the company of these kidnappers for several days. Did they say or do anything that gave you some clue as to who they were and their reasons for capturing you?”

Swallowing through a throat gone tight, Bruck’s gaze fell as if in deep thought as he replied. “They said very little to me, Master. I was also keep heavily drugged for most of my captivity and everything is still foggy.”

He could sense his mentor’s approval as well as waves of concern from the other Jedi at his reply. It was difficult to keep a betraying blush from staining his cheeks as his mind replayed sensual scenes of lust and lovemaking. Touches, kisses, his body becoming an willing receptacle for the fallen Jedi’s body. Tightening his shielding, he lifted his gaze to find Master Yoda’s slanted eyes studying him thoughtfully as the ancient Jedi tapped at the floor with the tip of his cane.

“Rest you need, Padawan. Temporary removal from mission duty you have.”

“Thank you Master,” Bruck replied with genuine gratitude, his mind already racing ahead to spending the free time with Obi-Wan.

“Dismissed you are Padawan Chun. Speak with your Master we must.”

Bowing deeply at the dismissal, Bruck spun on his heel and strode from the room. The instant the door slid shut behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief for being out from under the piercing gazes. No doubt Qui-Gon would be grilled about the treatment his apprentice received while in captivity and the state of his mental health after the ordeal. A grimace twisted his face as he wondered if they’d make him attend sessions with a soul healer.

Rounding a corner, he grunted in surprise as he collided with an unyielding body, hands reaching out to grab his arms in a viselike grip. His mouth opened to form an apology but snapped shut as he was almost thrown against the wall, an equally tall and muscular body moving in to pin him in place. His own eyes narrowed into mere slits as his attacker pressed his face close enough that Bruck could feel warm breath ruffling his spiked hair.

“What the hell are you doing, Muln?”

Garen’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a feral snarl. “Don’t try that innocent act on me Chun. You may fool your Master and everyone else with it, but I know better.”

The words stung but Bruck was determined not to let Garen see. Smoothing his features into a careless smirk, he let his body relax back against the wall as he shrugged broad shoulders. “You know nothing about the real me Muln. Now say whatever it is you have to so I can go lay down. I’ve just been through a terrible ordeal.”

The other man’s eyes burned with an ire that nearly scorched. “Tell me what the hell you were doing with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Where has he been and how did you meet up with him? Where is he now?”

“If he’d wanted you to know, he would have contacted you himself,” Bruck hissed, taking delight in the way his words made Garen flinch. “I’m not telling you anything so you might as well back off.”

Uncontrolled anger flared in Garen’s dark gaze at his taunting words, hands fisting as if he fought an internal struggle to keep from strangling Bruck. “You’re a real first class, bastard Chun. Play your little game if it makes your black, heart happy. I’ll find out on my own what’s going on.”

Bruck felt a trill of uneasiness as Garen invaded his space, something shifting in the other Jedi’s gaze as their bodies were pressed flush from chest to toe. He was frozen, spellbound as his nemesis’s head suddenly swooped forward and his lips were sealed with Garen’s equally full ones. Bruck’s attempts to keep his own mouth tightly shut were soon over powered by an eager tongue that wiggled it’s way over the ridge of his teeth. The instant he gave in and let his mouth open, Garen issued a triumphant purr and let his tongue sweep in to make a thorough forage of Bruck’s.

His body newly awakened to physical pleasure and tightly strung with sensual tension, Bruck soon found himself meeting the kiss with eager fervor, grinding his pelvis into Garen’s. Titillating pleasure flooded him as he felt how Garen’s own body was reacting to their interaction, the ridge of an impressive erection digging into his thigh. Gasping for breath, Garen tore his mouth away, only to begin kissing his way down the strong, brown, column of throat. Eyes half slit with pleasure, Bruck dug his fingers into the soft waves of the other Jedi’s shaggy hair, holding the head in place.

Garen suddenly froze, ignoring Bruck’s moue of protest as he slowly pulled back. A calloused thumb lightly rubbed the fading love bite now visible as the collar of Bruck’s tunic hung off his shoulder.

“Did he give you this? Obi-Wan?”

Bruck’s breath stilled in his lungs at the ominous thread that ran beneath the softly spoken query. When he failed to answer, Garen straightened and locked eyes with his, searching for the truth. For a crazy instant Bruck was certain he saw jealousy flare in his companion’s eyes but it vanished so quickly he was convinced he was seeing things. He watched, baffled, as the other man slowly backed away before spinning on his heel and hurrying away.

Shaken by the confrontation and puzzled by his own reaction to Garen’s advances, Bruck continued on his way to his rooms. Something told him he would be getting little sleep this night.

In the Council room, Qui-Gon was left alone with Master Yoda, the rest of the Council exiting soon after Bruck had. Qui-Gon sensed that his deception had fooled no one, especially the wizened being in front of him. There was little that slipped past Yoda when it came to his flock.

“Secrets you and young Bruck are keeping.”

“Yes Master.” Qui-Gon’s admission was greeted with raised ears. “Our captives were no strangers.”

The tiny Master’s eye’s widened, interest shining in their depths. “Tell me the rest you will.”

Arms folded across his chest, Qui-Gon knew there was no point in keeping it from Yoda and nodded. “Bruck was bait to draw me in. My two former apprentice’s have somehow found one another amongst the sea of beings that inhabit the galaxy and sought to make me pay for what they saw as my past wrong doings toward them.”

“Obi-Wan?” Yoda spoke the name with near reverence, emotion causing his eyes to glisten. “Saw him you did? Well is he?”

“I did. He is doing as well as can be expected when living on the fringes of the law. I have much to atone for, Master. He was grievously injured when I abandoned him on Melida/Daan. A mere child back then and a predator still took great delight in…in defiling him. He bears the scars of that incident to this day.”

Qui-Gon was forced to look away as an unbearable expression of pain caused the wrinkled features to constrict at his news. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to finish the tale. “Xanatos and Obi-Wan have formed a strong bond forged in love, although they both are too stubborn for their own good and are fighting it. Obi-Wan accompanied us here to Coruscant but I sense Xan won’t be far behind.”

Yoda pondered his words for some time before responding. “Our help they need. Come to the Temple young Obi-Wan should, speak with him I will.”

“I offered as we parted, Master. I think it will be awhile before Bruck can convince him to agree.”

“Time we shall give him. If come to us he won’t, go to him I will.”

Qui-Gon smiled faintly at the determined words. He felt a deep sense of relief in having Master Yoda’s support in aiding Obi-Wan’s recovery. Force willing, there was hope he could make things right with his two former apprentices.