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Website: http://www.franzis-world.net

Pairing: Mace/Xanatos

Rating: NC-17

Category: Chan, PWP

Feedback: Is cherished!

Archive: If you want it, take it. Let me know where it ends up.

Summary: A sparring session leads to something completely different

Notes: Thanks to Tem-ve for the beta, and to Smitty for the idea. This story appeared first in Lori's zine "Beginnings II", and has now timed-out.

"What kind of Padawan are you anyway? You don't even have a braid!" Xanatos laughed at his bald sparring partner, provoking him.

Xanatos and Mace were age mates - and ever since they had become the Padawans of Qui-Gon Jinn and Aidin Laranne, they had been rivals. It was a constant contest about being better, more intelligent and faster than the other one.

"I might not have a braid, Xani," Mace smiled back, knowing very well how much Xanatos hated this nickname, "but I have other, better abilities that qualify me as a damn good Padawan."

Xanatos ignored Mace's reply and fumbled for something in his pocket. "Maybe I should give you one of those for your sixteenth birthday - and a staple." Xanatos smirked as he held up a bright pink artificial braid.

"You wouldn't dare, you..."

"I would and you know it. Some of us aren't cowards after all."

"Coward! I'll show you coward!" With that, Mace had his training lightsabre ignited again, ready to attack. Xanatos laughed and threw the braid aside, before getting into position and turning on his own sabre. His body was tense, all muscles and tendons ready to defend himself.

"Come on then, Mace, show me what you can do."

In one quick motion, Mace launched an attack that Xanatos only just managed to block at the last moment. One blow followed the other, frantically, often turning from desperate parry to spirited attack within the same movement. None of them was stronger or better than the other. They fought, not waiting for the other to catch his breath, not caring about scratches, cuts and burns. Each of them wanted to win, wanted the other one to submit. Two even fighters, they were both waiting for the other to make a mistake. Their tunics were soaked in sweat; their breaths came in quick pants.

Mace ducked one of Xanatos' blows and whirled around, trying to get behind Xanatos. He wasn't fast enough. The smell of burned hair and flesh filled his nose, just before he actually felt Xanatos' training lightsabre slightly touching his neck, barely making contact.

"You're dead," Xanatos whispered, triumph in his voice. Before Mace could react, Xanatos had grabbed his right wrist from behind and got hold of his lightsabre. He took it from him and discarded it.

Slowly, he motioned Mace towards the opposite wall of the room, his own lightsabre still ignited, threatening. He pushed Mace against the wall so that he was facing him, their faces only a few inches apart.

"You are mine now," Xanatos whispered before he turned his own lightsabre off and clipped it back onto his belt.

Mace didn't answer or react, he merely groaned. This fight wasn't over yet, and they both knew it.

Xanatos put his right forearm against Mace's throat, not putting pressure on it yet, just keeping him in place. Quickly, he closed in, capturing Mace's mouth in a violent, hungry, needy kiss. Tasting his lips, biting them, sucking on his tongue, taking Mace completely by surprise. He could hear Mace's gasp as the kiss started; then his moans as it grew deeper, bruising both of their mouths.

Xanatos withdrew from the kiss, panting, needing air. Fumbling with the knots on Mace's tunic, he worked on undressing him, still holding him against the wall with one arm and the help of the Force. He felt Mace's body shivering as he licked the dark skin he exposed bit by bit. Nipples, chest, the belly... the muscles in Mace's stomach tensed as he reached a particularly sensitive spot, nibbling and licking. He tasted sweat, the skin was coated with it and tasting salty. And it smelled so good; it smelled of adrenaline - and arousal.

Xanatos was so focused on his task that he didn't notice Mace tentatively reaching out for the Force. He was just working on the lacing of Mace's pants with his teeth when he suddenly heard the familiar buzz of a lightsabre.

Shit.

Before he had time to react, he could smell burned fabric as Mace placed the blade of the sabre lightly on his back.

"I'm not yours. On the contrary. Get down on the floor, kneeling, Xani."

Xanatos cursed under his breath and looked up at Mace, glaring at him.

"Make me," he challenged his rival, trying to provoke.

"As you wish."

Xanatos winced as Mace's blade pressed harder into his back, burning his skin, leaving a mark that would last for days.

"On the floor. Now."

Xanatos slowly went down on his hands and knees, realising that he had lost the fight this time. He flinched as he felt the lightsabre on his back once more, but this time it wasn't burning his skin. It was close to it, but Mace was doing something different. The realisation came as cool air hit the burn between his shoulder blades. Mace was cutting the clothes off him.

Xanatos growled in protest, not daring to move, flinch or even talk. One sabre burn was enough for one evening. His tunics fell off his shoulders and slid down his arms onto the floor, the soft fabric caressing his skin.

"Are you mad?" Xanatos growled at Mace, ready to get up and off the floor again. But before he could react or move in any way, the sabre was back on him, cutting through the waistband of his trousers. A few more well-placed cuts and Xanatos' pants fell down to the floor, in shreds and useless.

"Come on then, finish it," Xanatos groaned through clenched teeth.

"Don't worry, I will get to it soon enough."

Xanatos yelped as Mace grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing his head back. "That's all your hair and braid are good for."

With his free hand, Mace pulled down his own pants and kneeled behind Xanatos, his mate's hair still in his hand, keeping the young body stretched in an almost painful way.

He paused a bit to take a look at Xanatos, on his hands and knees, his back arched, his pale skin almost flawless. An angry red was contrasting with the white skin where Mace had burned him with his sabre. He couldn't see Xanatos' eyes from his position, but he was sure that passion was burning in them, making them no longer look ice-blue but dark. Mace could see that Xanatos' mouth was open with the strain on his neck. Next time, he would feel these lips around his cock, but not today.

He quickly spat into his hand and coated his cock with his saliva. This would have to do, as there was no proper lube around. He gripped Xanatos' left hip and pushed against him.

Xanatos cried out as Mace took him violently, causing him to jerk forward, his knees and hands getting scraped on the floor. Yes, that was what he needed. He moved with Mace, welcoming the burn, bathing in the rush of adrenaline. Moans of pleasure escaped his throat as Mace moved steadily, needy, low moans. He almost screamed as Mace let go of his hair to rake his nails across the burn on his back, sending a wave of pain through his body, amplifying the pleasure.

His arms gave way and he collapsed onto the floor as his orgasm took him by surprise, just a few moments before he could feel Mace's hot semen filling him. He didn't dare, or even want, to move, needing a few moments to catch his breath, to recover.

Finally, Mace pulled out of him and got up, wordlessly handing Xanatos his outer robe.

"I don't think you want to go back to Master Jinn with only your boots on you," he said with a smile.

Xanatos returned the smile, still shaking, and pulled the robe tight around him, wincing a bit as the fabric scratched over the sabre burn. "Thank you. Next time, though, you will be the one ending up with ruined clothes."

Mace laughed and gathered up their lightsabres and the shredded tunics. "I'll believe that when I see it, Padawan Xanatos."

Xanatos took his own sabre out of Mace's hands and shot him a look, challenging, seductive, before he left for his quarters, pondering just how to explain the state of his clothes to Qui-Gon.

THE END