Master Apprentice Archive And You Call Yourself A Jedi Master Quick search:

Archive: Yes, M_A, others please ask

Category: Qui/Obi, PWP

Rating: R

Warnings: Story begins with het sex! But it's brief & not graphic

Spoilers: Don't we all know what's happening?

Summary: One cheeky padawan and one frustrated master both looking for love.

Disclaimer: Master Lucas owns Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan. I'm just playing with the boys when he's not looking. Oh,yes, and all errors contained herein are mine...all mine. Fox tried,really!

Feedback: Sure! Anytime, anywhere, anyway...

Notes: Written in response to a first line challenge made by Fox. A special thanks goes out to Fox for the beta and for the encouragement when a timid virgin writer sent a hysterically bad first offering...

"Never mind about him, love. The important thing right now is me, and getting your dactares' worth," she murmured in his ear, her legs tightening around his waist, her hips rolling suggestively.

Qui-Gon fisted her ginger blonde hair and kissed her brutally, trying to ignore the fact that his bedroom door had just opened and very abruptly closed. It was no use; he knew who was there, waiting, listening. He pulled away, erection faded, and sat on the edge of his sleep couch. The tall, lithe woman wound her way around him.

"Don't be upset, lover, I can make this good for you. It happens to everyone at some time or another." Her hand slid down and started stroking his limp, sticky cock.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and tried to relax. No. No, no, no. The vision of his padawan's face kept wavering behind his closed lids. Not that the Jedi Eroticist wasn't talented. But he couldn't pretend when the very hands and mouth he wanted were in the room across the hall. He couldn't let himself go, cry out in passion, when the name he cried out might well be that of his beloved and not...

His eyes popped open and he stilled her hand. "What is your name?" he asked gently.

The woman sighed and gracefully disentangled herself to stand in front of him. "My name, Master Jinn, is Cyreas. But I can be whomever you desire," she purred. She knelt in front of him, her hands roaming his chest, caressing the taut muscles of his abdomen. "Close your eyes," she said, "and lose yourself in the fantasy."

Qui-Gon willed his eyes closed again. Oh yes, Obi-Wan's hands tracing the muscles of his thighs, moving up to cup his sac, teasing the length of his.... but that was the scrape of a fingernail. Obi-Wan always kept his nails trimmed. And these hands were soft. Obi-Wan's hands were rough from training.

"Stop, Cyreas. I can't do this. Please just get dressed and go," Qui-Gon said, grabbing her hand roughly before pushing her away.

Cyreas stood and crossed her arms over her chest. "Master Jinn, may I inquire as to what I've done to displease you?"

Qui-Gon clenched his jaw. "You've done nothing wrong. I just can't do this with him...my padawan, home for the evening. It will...disturb him."

Cyreas laughed. "You can't have sex because your padawan, your adult padawan, will hear?"

"Exactly. He is an adult. And for him to know that I'm availing myself of your services..." his voice trailed off and he cursed silently. Why was he explaining himself to her, anyway?

Cyreas stood and began jerking on her clothes. "Same story, different Master. All of the Jedi are so damned glad to have the Eroticists on staff and so fucking ashamed when they use them," she muttered.

Qui-Gon watched silently from his perch, wishing he hadn't been stupid enough to call for this...liaison. What had he been thinking? Of course his padawan would come home, of course he would know exactly what was going on and then there would be a scene. Then he would have to fumble around and try to explain it all when, really there was no explanation to give. Or at least not one he wanted to give.

Cyreas turned to face him. "Master Jinn, I'm sorry that your padawan found out about your dirty little secret. May the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon sighed as the door hissed shut. He buried his face in his hands. What in the Living Force was he doing? Obi-Wan was his padawan. He shouldn't be having these thoughts, behaving like a green Knight who had never been through these infatuations before. Why shouldn't he have sex with whomever he desired, especially a professional, bought and paid for? He was too old for this nonsense. A Jedi Master should release this lust into the Force and move on.

He stood and pulled on his leggings. Well, that was part of the problem. He had been "releasing" himself into his hand quite a lot in the last year, and it just wasn't satisfying anymore. Not when Obi-Wan was so close, looking beautiful while he meditated, while he studied, when he laughed...and in the training salle. Force. He couldn't even consider his padawan in the training salle, all glistening and golden with sweat and Force without becoming hard again at the thought.

He needed a drink. A real drink, none of that damned tea. Something strong and bracing like Telosian Stoli. He strode into the common room and grabbed the bottle off the corner table and took a swig, not even bothering with a glass. Ah, yes. That burn, that feeling, he could deal with that. He turned to go back to his room and almost knocked down his apprentice. He nodded curtly and sidled past him.

Obi-Wan grabbed Qui-Gon's arm. "Master..."

"Not tonight."

"But we need to discuss..."

"Nothing. There is nothing for us to discuss. Go to bed." Qui-Gon moved again toward his room.

"Alone?" Obi-Wan said belligerently.

Qui-Gon stopped and nearly dropped his bottle.

"That would be your choice, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied roughly.

"I could call in an expert I suppose. Hmmm, what type would I choose? Tall, elegant..."

Qui-Gon whirled around. "What happened here tonight was none of your business." His words were dagger sharp.

"Oh, of course it isn't. You're my Master and you don't have to explain your actions to me." Obi-Wan threw his hands in the air.

"Obi-Wan", he started, the warning clear in his voice, "I will not tolerate disrespect."

"Disrespect?" He scoffed.

"Yes. My sex life is none of your concern. And it certainly isn't up to you to approve or disapprove of my choices. I will not discuss this with you now or in the future, regardless of your tone. If I want to march everyone in the temple into my room and fuck them all, I will." He realized that as he was talking he had moved to loom over his apprentice but Obi-Wan didn't look in the least intimidated.

"Really. Fuck the whole temple? Or only the ones that remind you of me?" Obi-Wan challenged.

Qui-Gon stepped back as if he had been struck. Damn. The boy didn't miss a thing. Had it been so obvious, then? Bile rose in his throat at the thought. His padawan knowing, understanding, this...lust that was eating away at him.

"Only the ones that I deemed worthy, my arrogant Obi-Wan," he sneered before stomping back to his room.

He sank to the floor as the door closed and leaned back. Force, why had he said that? Through the door he heard Obi-Wan yell -- he couldn't hear what, but it didn't matter. He didn't want to know. What he did know quite well was that he, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, was a fool. And the only thing this fool was doing tonight was getting drunk and forgetting everything else.

"Sith-spawned apprentices," he muttered. "More trouble than they are worth. You do your best to raise them right and then they turn on you." And just what did Obi-Wan think he was doing, challenging his authority like that? Two swigs later he stood and went into the common room. If the little upstart wanted a fight then he would be happy to oblige. He'd be damned if he would run from his own apprentice.

Obi-Wan was standing in the dark watching the endless flow of traffic. His shoulders were rigid. Qui-Gon knew what that meant. The young man was still very angry. No need to fight through those unyielding shields to see that.

"What did you say?" Qui-Gon demanded.

"Nothing," came the brittle reply.

"I heard you yell something just a moment ago. Now answer me. What did you say?"

Obi-Wan turned, his eyes as flat and gray as his voice. "I said, sometimes, Master, you can be such a Sith-fucking bastard."

Qui-Gon sighed and took a drink. Obi-Wan was right. He professed to love this man and then he hurt him at the first opportunity. He really should have been honest. But he couldn't, he just couldn't do that. The boy drawing conclusions was one thing, but to say the words, well, that was another matter entirely.

"Why, Master? Why pay to take a stranger into your bed? I want to understand. Why pay for something you don't really want when you can have anything you truly desire?"

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan. His tone had been pleading but there was nothing of a beggar in the way he stood, meeting Qui-Gon's stare. Those damned eyes. Why couldn't he escape those eyes?

"It's not that simple."

Obi-Wan's face hardened. "No, I suppose it's not. Why that hair, those eyes? But it's always the same, isn't it? The twins on Rian V, the young man on Ord Mandell, the pilot that took us to Yavin...do I need to go on? All those people and yet never me?"

"You are my padawan."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Obviously. And it is a padawan's place to help his Master, to aid him in anything."

Qui-Gon tightened his grip on the bottle in his hand before taking another swig. Had he really sunk so low? He had really become the stuff of Temple legend, the mighty master wanting nothing more than to fuck his beautiful young padawan? A padawan he had raised to always do his duty. And now, apparently, he thought it his duty to service his master. Hells, the last thing he needed was Obi-Wan's pity.

"But not this. You do not..."

"Is it because you think me unworthy?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "No. Of course you are worthy. But..." Qui-Gon's voice trailed off and he looked away.

"But?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"But I won't fuck you. I can't be...casual about sex with you." He couldn't meet his padawan's stare.

"I wasn't asking you to be. I had hoped for the same intensity with which you pursue everything else." He paused, frowning. "Tonight, why did you send her away?" Obi-Wan asked gently.

Qui-Gon's head snapped up at the question and he crossed his arms. "That's none of your business."

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Qui-Gon, stop being difficult and answer the question."

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth and thrust his chin forward. "Because you were here and..."

"And?" Obi-Wan grinned encouragingly.

Qui-Gon blushed. "Because I couldn't, well, after you walked in, I couldn't...."

"Oh, I did walk in, didn't I?" Obi-Wan interrupted, letting him off the hook.

"Yes, and then..."

Obi-Wan continued, almost as if talking to himself, tapping his finger against his bottom lip. "Now why would I walk in on you, when, feeling you through our bond, I knew perfectly well what you were doing?"

Qui-Gon stared at his padawan. Obi-Wan Kenobi was admitting that he had noticed and deliberately sabotaged those other opportunities because he was jealous ? The boy wasn't hopelessly unaware or naïve. He was jealous. Oh, Force.

"Master, I apologize. You were right. There is nothing to discuss. At least until you meditate and figure out why you are doing certain things and why I am doing certain things. Good night. Peaceful sleep."

There was a twinkle in Obi-Wan's eyes as he walked past his Master and into his room. He paused at the door, a grin blossoming on his face, and shook his head. "And you call yourself a Jedi Master?"

Understanding raced through Qui-Gon's mind. Obi-Wan wanted him. Obi-Wan was jealous because he...loved him? Oh, Force.

The bottle slipped from Qui-Gon's fingers and shattered on the floor. A laugh from the other room snapped him from his daze.

"This has gone on long enough. He's obviously not a child, and we both know what we want," he thought, "Meditation, my ass."

Qui-Gon strode into his padawan's room and grabbed Obi-Wan by the arms, pinning him to the wall. "What are you laughing at?"

Obi-Wan's eyes were a laughing, dancing green. "Nothing, Master."

Qui-Gon eased his grip and softly stroked Obi-Wan's bruised biceps. "Say it."

Obi-Wan's lips curled into a leer. "Make me."

Qui-Gon kissed him hard, their teeth clashing. He pulled away when he tasted blood but Obi-Wan dove back into the kiss, his tongue tracing Qui-Gon's swollen lip before moving deeper into the heat of his mouth.

Qui-Gon forced him back against the wall.

"What?" Obi-Wan demanded. "I wasn't through..."

"Then say it. Tell me."

Obi-Wan's hands slid up & down Qui-Gon's chest. "Oh, alright." Obi-Wan drew one hand to his forehead and breathlessly declared, "I want you, need you, love you. I must have you or I'll die." He grinned at his master. "Good enough?"

"Not by a long shot. But we will work on that padawan, all night, if we have to."

"All night?" Obi-Wan asked wide-eyed.

"Of course. All night. After all Obi-Wan, I am a Jedi Master."