Master
Apprentice  Archive
Clothes, a Challenge Response
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It was hot, almost unbearably hot. This dusty, dirty, windswept little rock of a planet didn't even have the decency to cool off after the glaring orange suns went down. Typically, there was not enough water to spare for a cool shower. My Master and I were here, after all, to negotiate water rights between the natives and the settlers. Bottled water was all that was available, and every drop of it was precious.
Still, I was bound and determined to waste enough to get clean. I headed for the 'fresher as soon as Qui-Gon and I got back to our rooms, shedding clothes as I went. As my tunic hit the floor, I thought that I picked up something from him over our link. Something --- intriguing.
I turned to look at him. "Did you want something, Master?"
His eyes widened, for just a second, and then that vaulted, Sith-be- damned Jedi calm of his slammed down like a blast door. "No, Padawan." He made a little shooing motion with his hand. "Please. Go on with what you were doing." I felt another flicker of the same emotion, quickly squelched, and could swear I saw a hint of color rise in his cheeks. But he turned away before I could be certain, removing his robe and folding it neatly across the back of the couch.
Puzzled, I continued to the 'fresher. Shucking the rest of my clothes, I dampened a wash rag and begin to scrub off the inch-thick layer of dirt that had accumulated on my skin.
I cursed under my breath. Even the water was warm! But, at least it was wet, and the evaporation was helping a little to cool me off. As I scrubbed, I sent a discrete mental probe toward Qui-Gon.
There it was again, that --- whatever it was. I concentrated harder, careful not to let him feel my prying, and felt my own eyes widening. Oh, Sith . . .
Oh, Sith! I dropped onto the couch, trying to distract myself with thoughts of the negotiations that were still ahead. But the thought of my twenty-one-year old Padawan naked in the next room . . . Sith, what is wrong with me? I'm much too old for him, not to mention that he could have his pick of any Padawan and half the Knights in the order. Still, I couldn't help wanting him.
I slammed my shields up. I couldn't let him know about this, about this burning, screaming desire I felt for him. If he knew he would be --- what? Shocked? Embarrassed? Revolted? I didn't know, and I didn't want to think about it any further. Oh, I knew that he'd had the usual Padawan crush on me when he was sixteen or so. It's normal, it's expected, it's --- almost more than I could handle, even then. Even then, I wanted him. How sick is that? An old, nearly over the hill Master craving his teenaged Padawan. Somehow, I had to stop this before it got any further.
This is so wrong . . .
This has to be wrong, doesn't it? I can't possibly be sensing from him what I think I'm sensing.
Or, can I?
I felt a slow smile spread over my face, and quickly checked my shields to make certain my Master wouldn't pick up on my thoughts. Oh, Master, if only it could be true.
Well, there was only one way to find out.
Still damp from my almost-bath, I snickered to myself as I wrapped a skimpy towel around my waist, purposely settling it low around my hips. Taking a deep breath and schooling my expression into one of naive innocence, I stepped out into the common room.
My Master glanced up, and this time there was no question about it. He blushed.
I blushed! Sith, I actually blushed! What am I, some wet-behind-the- ears schoolboy?
Hurriedly, I composed myself, trying not to look at the wet sheen of my Padawan's skin, the damp and tousled hair, the low-slung towel that looked like it could slip at any moment as he went around reclaiming his dropped garments.
I cleared my throat. Work, I thought. Think about work.
"The negotiations went well today, don't you think?" I asked, pleased beyond measure that my voice sounded fairly normal.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice nearly a purr. The sound of it sent a shock wave of need through me that ended somewhere in the vicinity of my groin. I folded my arms across my chest and focused on control.
"And, um . . ." I had to pause to clear my throat again. Must be all this damn blowing dust. "And both parties seem anxious to reach a settlement."
"Yes, they do." He turned slightly to one side as he bent to retrieve his robe. He was right in front of me, and when he bent over, the towel slipped just a little, showing off the top of that deliciously tight . . .
"For Force' sake, Padawan, will you put some clothes on?"
I tried to keep my voice calm, but knew I had failed when my voice squeaked on the last word.
His voice squeaked on the last word, didn't it? Force, help me! He is interested! This time, his desire came through loud and clear, despite his shields. Knowing he couldn't see my face, I smiled. Let the games begin.
"Master," I said as I straightened and turned toward him. "I believe I have some dust in my eye. Could you take a look?"
He swallowed, hard enough that I could see his Adam's apple bob.
"Certainly," he said.
Fighting back another grin, I knelt in front of him, pushing his knees apart so that I could lean in close, pressing against the insides of his thighs. Oh, yes. This felt so right.
This feels so right, and yet it has to be wrong! He's so warm against me, warm and damp and glowing and so damn edible . . . Does he know what he's doing to me? Does he know how hard I'm struggling to dampen down my arousal? Does he know how much I want to just grab him and devour him?
Of course he doesn't! Control yourself, old man! The boy isn't interested in you!
Oh, but he's leaning in close now, so close that I feel his breath on my face. His hands are on my thighs, bracing himself, but one of them is so close to my --- oh, no. Force, no! I'm a Jedi Master! I have to have better control than this! Now you've done it, Jinn!
Now I've done it! He's aroused, I can feel it! His hands are on my face, looking for the imaginary dirt in my eye, but his cock is already rock hard. I subtly move one hand closer to it. I can feel the sudden tightness of his leggings, can hear the increase in his breathing, can almost smell his desire.
He wants me! He really wants me!
This is too good to be true. I've waited for so long, never thinking it would happen. How long has he felt this way, I wonder? How long will he keep denying it? No more, my Master. No more.
No more, Padawan. Please, no more. I'm trying so hard to concentrate on his eye, trying so hard to control my body. But his hand is so close, and I want so much to reach down and move it to the one spot most craving his touch. And, his lips. Oh, his lips, so very close to mine and so moist and soft and kissable . .
"I, um, don't see anything, Obi-Wan," I manage to say, but even I can hear how hoarse my voice has become. Maybe he'll think it's just from the dust and wind. I release his face and sit back as much as I can, but he's still entirely too close for comfort. I find myself looking into his eyes, drawn into them like a lacewing to a flame. I can't look away. Force save me. I so want to just give in to my desire . . .
I give into my desire. Leaning forward just a little more, I claim his mouth. His breath catches for a moment, and then I think he stops breathing completely. I run my tongue along his lower lip, then trace the upper one. Finally, I probe lightly between them, asking for entrance. As I do so, I slide my hand over onto his hardness and lightly squeeze it through the tented fabric.
He wants me!
"I want you!"
I can't believe I just said that, but I did. Obi-Wan moves back an inch and our eyes meet. His are impossibly deep and stormy and full of desire.
"And I want you, Master," he says in the most erotic voice I've ever heard. "I've wanted you for so long."
My cock jumps, demanding its freedom. "Y-you have?" I ask, still unable to believe my good fortune.
He nods. The hand on my cock begins to massage it, and if he doesn't stop, I'm going to ---
"Oh!" I hear myself cry out as my orgasm hits me. I buck into his hand, humiliated and thrilled and sad that it's over so soon. I must have been broadcasting, because Obi-Wan smiles.
"Oh, it's far from over, my dear Master," he says. He gets to his feet and slowly unwinds the towel, finally letting it drop to the floor. My gaze immediately falls to his groin, to his own needy erection, already weeping at the tip. Sensuously, he once again goes to his knees and pushes his way in between my thighs and, impossibly, my own cock begins to refill. "Say it again," he urges.
I swallow against the dryness in my throat. "I want you, Obi-Wan. Force, I want you so bad!"
I felt myself grinning like a fool. I slid my hands up across his hips and under his tunic, feeling the skin quiver as I touched it. I leaned forward until my mouth was against the curve of his ear.
"Then, you shall have me."
The End