Master
Apprentice  Archive
A Sure Thing
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Obi-Wan opened his eyes from meditation and turned to quietly study the profile of his Master, who knelt beside him. For the past several weeks, ever since his twentieth birthday, Obi-Wan had been noticing things. The way his Master's gaze grew unfocused and wistful sometimes, the long, lingering looks of which he thought his Padawan was unaware. Touches here and there; a hand on his shoulder, a stroke down his back, occasionally even a brush of his hips as Qui-Gon passed a bit too closely.
Obi-Wan had been wondering about it for some time. Today, his meditation had revealed the answer.
His Master wanted him.
To someone who had been hopelessly in love with Qui-Gon for going on four years now, it was a dream come true. He hid a secret smile as Qui-Gon surfaced from his own trance and rose smoothly from his knees. He took the hand that was offered, let it pull him to his feet. The hand moved for a moment to his elbow, a completely unnecessary gesture if all the older Jedi was concerned with was his Padawan's balance. He raised his eyes to meet simmering blue ones that turned quickly away.
A bit too quickly.
Oh, yes . . .
Stretching out along their link stealthily, Obi-Wan caught a brief wave of desire, quickly suppressed but unmistakable.
"Have you plans for this evening?" Qui-Gon asked him, his tone one of measured innocence.
"None, Master."
"Good," he thought he heard, though the word was almost inaudible. He smiled. Tonight, then, he thought. Tonight, surely, his Master would make a move.
He kept himself busy the rest of the day, teaching a beginning 'saber class to a group of Initiates, working out with some friends, all of whom happened to be at the Temple at the same time --- a rare occurrence. Finally, just in time for late meal, he returned to the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon.
He pretended not to notice that the lights were slightly dimmed, made some vague comment about the flickering candles set in the center of the table. Dinner was his favorite, something Qui-Gon found difficult to prepare and rarely dared try, and it was delicious. All through the meal, his Master was solicitously helpful, attending to his every need. Obi-Wan felt the other's eyes on him, as well, throughout most of the main course and into the delicious and expensive dessert that followed.
Obi-Wan took it all in stride, apparently oblivious to his Master's attentions. Finally, sensing that Qui-Gon was becoming the slightest bit disheartened by his lack of response, Obi-Wan moved in for the kill. He leaned forward on his elbows until his face was mere inches from his Master's. He watched the pupils in the deep blue eyes dilate to near black, listened as the man's breathing quickened.
"Master," he said in his lowest, huskiest voice, "while I appreciate this whole seduction scene, it really isn't necessary." He moved in even closer, smelling the male musk scent of Qui-Gon's arousal. "I'm a sure thing."
The blue eyes darkened further into ocean-deep pools that Obi-Wan longed to fall into. Slowly, oh so slowly, Qui-Gon got to his feet, their gazes still locked, and held out a hand to his apprentice.
"In that case," he said, the pitch of his voice causing goosebumps to rise along Obi-Wan's arms, "let us retire to the bedroom."
Obi-Wan grinned and took the offered hand, squeezing it passionately. " I thought you'd never ask."
THE END