Master Apprentice
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Double Date
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Obi-Wan suppressed an impatient sigh. He realized he had to accommodate the cultures of the planets he visited, but he was not looking forward to the date that would be foisted off on him by this matchmaker. He pictured spending the evening with some giddy Jedi groupie who wanted him to use the Force at dinner to do something stupid like peel a fruit in midair.
The matchmaker, or Yen'a'Ta as they were called on TirFel, did not appear to live up to the prestige her position in this society bestowed upon her. Certainly her clothing wasn't impressive. She was dressed in a plain cream caftan with a cocoa-colored shawl flung over her stooped shoulders.
The top of her head, even including its wisps of unruly grey hair, came up only to the bottom of Obi-Wan's ribcage, and he wasn't at all tall by humanoid standards. Obi-Wan knew better than to judge others by their appearance, but even if she was the most skilled matchmaker in the universe, he had no desire to avail himself of her services.
Obi-Wan decided it was worth one last attempt to get out of it. "I'm not looking for a woman," he tried explaining to the ancient TirFelli peering intently at his face.
"I know that," she declared in surprisingly firm tone. "I will find a nice man to keep you company."
How could she tell that from just looking at his face? "I mean, I'm not looking for anyone," Obi-Wan clarified in a rush.
"I know that too. Listen to old Nama Yor. You may not be looking, but still you may find." She closed her eyes and lifted a hand so gnarled with age that it looked almost like a claw.
The intense ripple in the Force enlighted him as to the source of Nama Yor's devination. Well! This was good evidence that TirFel would prove fertile ground for initiate searches if they could come to an agreement. He'd mention this to Qui-Gon, but his master had certainly reached the same conclusion during his own interview.
One thing still bothered him even more than being destined to spend an intimate evening with company not of his choosing. "But I'm a Jedi; I can't settle down. It's unfair to the other person if you match me with someone who hopes to find a commitment."
That was good enough. He didn't need to explain that he was already hopelessly in love with his master. Perhaps it had started out only as a crush, but it had grown and transformed itself over the years until he was certain he would never love another being the same way.
"Then I won't. Trust me, you must." The unusual inflection somehow did inspire confidence.
Well, after all, it was just one evening and there would be no false expectations. He should be grateful he wasn't spending the time dodging blaster fire or sitting through mind-numbing negotiations.
He wondered if Qui-Gon would be so adverse to this custom as well. As far as Obi-Wan could tell, his master had been celibate for the entire decade of his apprenticeship, but rumors still persisted of past lovers. Some said a falling out was the reason Masters Windu and Jinn so often disagreed in public. Others implied a fractious end was the real motivation behind Master Vel's transfer to the Cinnorean Temple.
Of course rumors couldn't be trusted; he knew that from personal experience. At least half the temple population seemed convinced the reason neither he nor his master had any other attachments was because they had found each other.
If only it were so! What others mistook for discretion on Qui-Gon's part Obi-Wan feared was disinterest. If his master would only drop him a hint, he would willingly throw himself at his feet. He knew a master was forbidden from initiating a relationship with his padawan, but surely a top-notch negotiator like Qui-Gon could find a way to indicate interest without violating the rule.
And Obi-Wan wasn't about to make a move, or rather another move, without some indication. The one time Obi-Wan had confessed his love to his master, he had still been a boy, just turned fifteen. Qui-Gon had been kind, but his easy dismissal of Obi-Wan's feelings as a misguided crush had left him feeling exposed. Ever since that day, Obi-Wan would have opted to streak through the Council chamber before baring his soul to Qui-Gon again. At least until he had reason to believe his master's attitude had changed.
He couldn't go through that again. So he waited and hoped. Perhaps when he was knighted Qui-Gon would approach him. If not, maybe once he had a little distance he could interest himself in someone else, though his heart sank every time that thought crossed his mind.
Obi-Wan's musings were interrupted by a cackling from Nama Yor. "Perfect!" she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together in apparent glee.
Her reaction made Obi-Wan uneasy again. Why would this woman be so gratified at finding him a date? He was determined it would not get so far as a one-night stand.
Still cackling, Nama Yor grabbed his elbow and shuffled to the door, leading Obi-Wan out. "I have found out everything I need to know. Good day, young man."
Without being given any further explanation or a chance to respond, he was uncermoniously nudged outside, nearly into the arms of his master, who was waiting on the stoop with a bemused expression on his face.
"Well, how did it go, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked as he stepped out into the busy pedestrian traffic at ground level.
Obi-Wan trailed only one step behind his master so they could talk more easily.
Unwilling to answer the question directly, he responded, "She seems very strong in the Force, Master. It's a shame that her talents are wasted here, on something so mundane as matchmaking."
"I doubt very much she, or many TirFelli, would agree with your assessment," Qui-Gon noted. "TirFel is an unusually peaceful planet. Perhaps the Yen'a'Ta are in part responsible for that," he added in a speculative tone.
"Then you think it would be a mistake to conduct initiate searches here? Force-sensitives should be left to become matchmakers?" Obi-Wan could scarcely credit that.
"Perhaps some arrangement can be reached. Maybe not all Force-sensitives are destined to become Yen'a'Ta. In the meantime, we will experience first-hand the value of Nama Yor's talents."
Was Qui-Gon actually looking forward to his date? Obi-Wan couldn't see his master's face and their usual background shielding prevented him from knowing for sure if his master was joking.
Obi-Wan remained quiet and, after a pause, Qui-Gon continued. "I've arranged with Nama Yor for this to be a double date, Obi-Wan. I thought it best that we remain together on our assignment. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not, Master," Obi-Wan replied before knowing whether he did or not. On the one hand, he would be intensely interested to see Qui-Gon's reaction his date, on the other hand, that reaction might be exceedingly painful to him.
He fell back another step to his usual position and they finished the short walk to their lodgings in silence.
Soon after arriving, Obi-Wan announced his intention to meditate for a while. He felt very off-center from his interview with Nama Yor and the upcoming double date with Qui-Gon. He wasn't sure he would be able to remain serene while watching Qui-Gon give his attentions to another man.
When Obi-Wan roused himself a few hours later, he felt calm, but it wasn't to last. "Our dates will be here in about an hour. You'd better get ready," Qui-Gon announced.
"But, Master, I don't have any civvies," Obi-Wan objected. "I didn't expect it would be today!"
"Jedi attire will be fine, Obi-Wan. This is just pro forma, after all. Unless you were considering a career change?"
"No, Master, it's just that I've never gone out on a date in my robe before." Come to think of it, he'd never really gone out on any date before.
"Ah. Well, there's a first time for everything. I'll be wearing my robe, too."
"Then we'll be the ones who match, Master," Obi-Wan quipped as he headed towards the fresher.
"I think you're right about that," Qui-Gon said quietly, so quietly that Obi-Wan wasn't sure he had heard him correctly as he closed the fresher door.
As Obi-Wan undressed, he wondered what Nama Yor's match for Qui-Gon would be like. Certainly it would be someone tall and arresting and experienced. All the things that he himself was not, but made someone like Qui-Gon so devastatingly attractive.
Obi-Wan stepped into the steamy shower and started soaping his chest.
He spared a little sympathy for Qui-Gon's date-to-be. The poor fellow would probably come to think of Qui-Gon as the one that got away. Ghods! Why did his master have to be so compelling and so gorgeous to boot? Not only was he well-spoken and knowledgeable and compassionate and fair-minded, but his body and manners would easily compensate for an inferior intellect.
Starting with the way his eyes... so incredibly blue... fixed you in the moment when he talked. His face in general commanded attention, from the broad brow and aquiline nose to the firm mouth framed by the precise militaristic moustache and beard, whether its expression was fierce in fighting or softened with sympathy.
Then his silky long brown hair was such a turn-on too. Obi-Wan had to restrain himself from burying his face in it whenever he brushed it for his master. And his voice, deep but cultured at the same time, sent shivers down Obi-Wan's spine even if he just said, "Please pass me my tea, Padawan." Oh, and his hands, so much bigger than they had any right to be, but gentle and talented. One of Qui-Gon's could envelop his own fist completely, the way he imagined Qui-Gon's muscular body could envelop his...
As Obi-Wan's hands worked downward, they bumped into his turgid erection. Of course he was horny now! Thinking of Qui-Gon always did that to him. But at least his timing wasn't so bad. Something fast would do. He wouldn't take very long to come.
Obi-Wan let himself imagine that Nama Yor had decided to match the two Jedi together! They had shared a pleasant dinner and returned directly to their lodgings. It would be so easy for Qui-Gon to say something within the letter of the law.
"Well, Obi-Wan," he might say, "Nama Yor has earned my deepest respect. She pinpointed exactly the type of man I find attractive and would fall in love with."
That would be more than enough. "I had exactly the same thought. I can't imagine a more perfect match for me than the one she chose. I want you, Master. I meant what I said when I was fifteen and it's still true."
No more words. Qui-Gon crushed Obi-Wan against the nearest wall with his whole body and plundered his mouth. Obi-Wan's squeak of surprise was muffled and quickly transformed into a moan. He fought to return the kiss... to keep some semblance of control... to breathe... but he seemed to be losing every battle.
Qui-Gon's large hands were impossibly adept, holding his head still, peeling off tunics, caressing his body, and dropping their leggings all at the same time. Suddenly they were both naked and Qui-Gon was thrusting his immense shaft against Obi-Wan's. Oh, Ghods! It felt just like he had always imagined it would!
Qui-Gon broke the kiss and growled, "I want to be in you!"
"Yes!" Obi-Wan gasped. Then Qui-Gon's tongue was filling his mouth again and he heard a thunk as his master caught something that he had called to his hand.
Qui-Gon popped open the cap and poured oil all over his own cock, heedless of the extra dripping off. He was still thrusting and soon Obi-Wan's entire abdomen was covered with a slick coating. The emptied bottle bounced musically when it hit the plasteel floor.
Then Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan's legs behind the knees and lifted them, sliding his torso upward several inches and tilting his hips forward. Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's slippery cockhead nudging at his entrance.
Once again Qui-Gon broke the kiss, this time to declare, "Now you are mine!" He thrust deeply and Obi-Wan came at that instant, his cum spurting out at an angle to the water sluicing down from the showerhead.
After regaining his breath, Obi-Wan laughed silently to himself, well aware of how unrealistic his fantasy had been. Unfortunately, tonight was likely to play out very differently.
When Obi-Wan finished dressing and returned to the common room, there wasn't much of the original hour left. Qui-Gon handed him a cup of tea, as if he thought Obi-Wan could use something to calm his nerves. They sat at the dining table together, drinking in companionable silence until the door chimed.
Obi-Wan looked at the door as if it were a rancor ready to charge.
Chuckling slightly, Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Let's go see who is at the door, shall we?" he asked.
Qui-Gon ushered him to the entryway and called out "Open!" The panel slid aside, seemingly to reveal a slightly distorted mirror.
Obi-Wan found himself looking directly at someone who bore a striking resemblance to himself. The general shape of his face and the arch of his eyebrows were nearly identical. The eyes were a little darker, incorporating brown flecks in the amalgam. Whether or not there was a cleft chin was hidden by a short beard and the auburn hair was shoulder length. Obi-Wan decided he liked the effect and a small part of his brain filed that fact away for future reference.
Then Obi-Wan cast his glance to the side and upwards. The older man standing nearby was perhaps exactly Qui-Gon's height. He was somewhat slimmer, but the craggy features of his face were nearly faithful reproductions. His brow was broad, the eyes a brilliant blue and his nose aristocratic, though straight. His clean-shaven face and his trim salt-and-pepper hair might give the impression he worked in an office, but his deep tan and weathered complexion bespoke an outdoor life. A little too clean-cut, perhaps, but overall he was... mouth-watering!
Obi-Wan's stomach clenched. He was in for a stressful evening. He would get plenty of practice with his calming techniques as he watched Qui-Gon and this other magnificent specimen of manhood entertain each other. Silently he cursed Nama Yor's matchmaking abilities.
The two newcomers both wore expresssions of amazement while the welcoming smiles of the two apparently calm Jedi remained unaffected.
Obi-Wan's doppleganger was the first to break the silence. "I'm Bin'a'Kun, or just Bin. Are you Kee-Gon?" he asked Obi-Wan.
"Ummm, it's Qui-Gon. But no... this is Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said, indicating his master.
"Then you must be Obi-Wan," the taller stranger deduced. "I'm Gan'a'Jon. Call me Gan," he said holding out his hand.
Gan was his date? Obi-Wan's training stood him in good stead. He only stared at the outstretched hand for an instant before clasping it and murmuring, "Nice to meet you," automatically.
The phrase was echoed three times and all their arms crossed as each shook the hand of his date.
Then they shook hands with their doubles, repeating the ritulalistic phase with deadpan intonation. After a moment of silence, they all burst out laughing.
When that subsided, Obi-Wan exclaimed, "Well, it really is a pleasure to meet you both!"
"I had no idea you Jedi would look so... TirFellian!" Bin quipped.
"That's why we wear these robes... so people can tell us apart from our native ringers," Obi-Wan explained sagely.
"Your TirFelli Yen'a'Ta are quite impressive, as well as efficient," Qui-Gon said, indicating the air cab that was settling almost noislessly down behind the two natives. "Shall we go?"
Obi-Wan ended up seated beside his master and opposite his date. He furtively studied the man across from him with renewed interest. How would he feel if this were a real date? He loved Qui-Gon, but he couldn't deny the attraction he felt.
Gan's hands were like Qui-Gon's and if he had no other assets, that would be enough. His body might not be sculpted like a Jedi's, but it was easy to see he lived an active life. The muscles were well-defined through the thin fabric of his light pale blue tunic, setting off the color of his eyes.
Those crystalline eyes... so intense! Obi-Wan studied them a moment too long and their gazes locked briefly before Obi-Wan managed to slide his away. After that, Obi-Wan directed his attention away from Gan's face.
All four of them were quiet, possibly engaged in the same activity, for the short ride to the restaurant. "This evening is on me, or rather, the Jedi Order," Qui-Gon explained while paying the fare. "Diplomatic mission."
"I thought this would be less pressure than a normal first date," Bin said smiling, "but now I feel like I could set off an interplanetary war."
"Oh, don't worry about it," Obi-Wan reassured him. "We do that all the time!"
"Oh?" Gan interjected. "I thought you Jedi were more into stopping wars."
"We do that, too. It's job security. We're very big into balance."
Gan laughed. "Well they do say, 'All's fair in love and war.'"
Their destination turned out to be a very quiet little restaurant, comfortable but not ostentatious. The human hostess welcoming them did a double take upon seeing their faces and looked over their shoulders as if half-expecting more matched pairs would appear.
"Table for four," Qui-Gon announced firmly.
The settled in at the table, each beside his date and facing his likeness. Neither TirFelli had eaten there before, but of course they were familiar with the local entrees.
Bin leaned over and Qui-Gon's head tipped close to listen as Bin quietly directed the master's attention to the seafoods. Obi-Wan's pang of jealousy was pushed aside when Gan's hand brushed his own on its way to pointing out the soups at the top of the bill of fare.
Gan was briefing him on each of the dishes he was willing to recommend. Obi-Wan stared at the large hand, so like Qui-Gon's, as it slowly continued its course down through the options. Their hands might touch again when he reached the noodle dishes.
Obi-Wan was too distracted to listen to what was being said without making an effort. He decided not to make that effort.
Gan had reached the noodle dishes now, and why was he gently nudging his thumb? Oh, he wanted to read what was beneath it, Obi-Wan realized as he moved his thumb to the margin.
Gan continued to describe dishes, but Obi-Wan still couldn't focus. His hand tingled and he wondered at the effect a simple touch could have.
The serving droid appeared out of nowhere to take their orders and Obi-Wan had no idea what he wanted. Suddenly inspired he said, "I'll have what he's having," nodding in Bin's direction, without even having heard the order.
After the droid left, Gan ran his hand back and forth along the edge of the real wood table and asked Qui-Gon, "How did you decide on this restaurant?"
"Nama Yor did. She has our evening planned out."
"She always does that for a first date," Bin volunteered.
"You've used her services before?" Gan sounded surprised.
"Many times. I think I'm her only failure. No one has ever seemed quite right. But don't worry," he added flicking his gaze towards Qui-Gon. "I know you Jedi aren't really in the market. I guess she just felt I had a lot of practice with one-time dates."
"How strange," Gan mused. "I think I'm here for the opposite reason. I refuse to consider an arranged date as a potential life partner, so no one else has ever been interested in meeting with me. I wouldn't have had the Yen'a'Ta interviews at all if they weren't mandatory. I'm afraid I have a reputation as being sort of a rebel."
For some reason, that didn't surprise Obi-Wan in the least.
"So what do you do for a living, Bin?" Qui-Gon asked, tactfully changing the subject.
"I'm still studying at University. I have to do some field work before I graduate. My area of research is Advanced Agriculture, near-urban applications."
Obi-Wan was busy reflecting on how close he had come to devoting his own life to agriculture so he didn't notice when Gan looked up sharply in Bin's direction.
"And what about you, Gan?" Qui-Gon asked him.
"I run a little organic operation, just outside of town. Intensive gardening, that sort of thing. I know most people would think it's crazy trying to raise food so close to the city, but I like to do things differently and I seem to have a way with growing things."
It was Bin's turn to stare at his fellow native intently. "Ummm... if that's the case," Bin asked hesitantly, "do you think I could interest you in a promising new technique involving tiered runoff?"
"Most of my setup is devoted to techniques I've developed through experience, but I do keep some space reserved for trying new things." Gan cast an apologetic glance at Obi-Wan. "Would you like to come over tomorrow and discuss what you had in mind?"
"I'd love that!" Bin enthused with more than professional interest. "And I'd love to see the techniques you've already had success with, if you don't mind showing them to me."
"Of course not. Come on over for lunch then. I'll serve up a salad fresh off the vine."
"It's a date!" Bin declared and at that moment the serving droid arrived and all four men turned their attention to the current meal. Obi-Wan was relieved to discover that he had ordered a simple nerf steak, something he might have actually chosen consciously.
The normal dinner conversation was peppered with comments from the two TirFelli reflecting their shared interest.
"This seared nerf steak is very good," Obi-Wan offered at one point.
"Yes, it is," Bin agreed, holding up a piece of his own. "But the sauce would have a richer flavor with fresh dekka leaf."
"I hope you don't mind the texture of this haja fruit," Gan said to Qui-Gon, indicating the red slices in their identical salad entrees. "It's clear they weren't ripe when they were shipped."
"Believe me, we Jedi are used to eating much worse," Qui-Gon assured him.
"Oh?" Bin prompted curiously.
Obi-Wan laughed. "That's a topic we'd better stay away from if any of us are going to enjoy this meal."
As dinner wound down, Qui-Gon checked his chrono. "If we want to make it to the vid showing Nama Yor picked for us, we'll have to skip dessert."
"I don't see why we have to stick to some agenda a near-stranger has concocted," Gan objected.
"It's really just a suggestion, based on what she knows about us," Bin tried to placate him. "What's playing, Qui-Gon?"
"It's called 'Ranger on the Rim'. I don't know anything about it."
"Oh. I wanted to see that. It's just pulp adventure, but it sounded like fun." Bin looked tentatively towards Gan.
"Well, I'm stuffed anyway," Gan relented. "Maybe we can have something after the movie. Shall we go?"
Obi-Wan ended up sitting between Gan and Bin, with Qui-Gon on the other side of Bin. Obi-Wan sat stiffly erect. He was keenly aware of Gan's body, overlarge for the confines of the small theatre seat, pressed next to his. They shared the armrest between them and Gan's large hand overlapped Obi-Wan's nonchalantly. Obi-Wan willed his hand into an unnatural stillness.
Early into the vid, Obi-Wan was taken by surprise by a bit of droid slapstick, and he automatically nudged Gan with his shoulder to share his appreciation. Gan looked at Obi-Wan and his amused smile broadened. At the same time, his hand completed its ownership of Obi-Wan's and he squeezed gently.
It felt... really nice. Obi-Wan's stomach went fluttery. He knew this wouldn't, couldn't, or shouldn't go anywhere, but just holding hands on a date was more than he had ever done before. And although Gan wasn't the date of his dreams, he came in at a very respectable, though distant, second place.
Obi-Wan returned his attention, or at least part of it, to the vid, but after a while he risked glancing at Gan. He seemed engrossed by what was being projected. Looking to his other side, Obi-Wan could tell that Bin was leaning away from him, toward Qui-Gon. He couldn't see what they were doing with their hands.
A chase scene on speeders actually did capture his interest, and by the time the hero escaped unscathed, Obi-Wan's hand and Gan's were clasped tightly together, their fingers intertwined.
Obi-Wan looked at his date's face and Gan returned his regard. Then Gan pulled his hand free, but it was in order to snake his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders and pull him close.
Obi-Wan found himself tilted at an awkward angle. It was uncomfortable to keep his head elevated, so he did the natural thing and rested it on Gan's shoulder. Gan responded with a quiet noise of contentment and leaned his cheek against the top of Obi-Wan's head.
Obi-Wan could smell Gan's scent, a mix of his musk and a very light cologne. He was tempted to burrow his nose into the crook of Gan's neck and he doubted Gan would mind if he did.
Obi-Wan kept his head still, but he did place his hand on Gan's thigh to help support himself. His date immediately brought his free hand over to envelop it. The result was intimate but comfortable and Obi-Wan was half-aroused and half-sated. He continued to watch the movie in that position, enjoying the moment without thought.
Near the end of the movie, the Ranger rescued his love interest, and as he revived her from being encased in carbonite, Obi-Wan felt Gan's face rubbing against the top of his head.
Obi-Wan lifted his face and suddenly light kisses were landing on his forehead, his eyebrow, his cheek, and then, yes, his mouth. The sensation stunned him into stillness. His brain didn't desert him, however, and despite his inexperience he knew imitating a statue would be tantamount to an insult, one that he had no desire to give.
He managed to form a chaste kiss with his mouth and Gan pressed again, firmer this time, with just the slightest flick of a tongue.
Obi-Wan teetered on the edge. Part of him wanted to deepen the kiss, to explore these sensations, to take what he could get. Another part of him felt empty, a part of him that he knew Gan couldn't fill.
Obi-Wan offered another chaste kiss, then lifted their clasped hands together. Breaking away, Obi-Wan pressed his lips onto each of Gan's knuckles in turn. Seeming content, Gan bore Obi-Wan's head down onto his chest.
Obi-Wan listened to the loud lub-dub of a heartbeat as the music swelled and the credits rolled.
Afterwards, in the lobby, they gathered into a little group. Obi-Wan saw that his master and Bin were holding hands, just as he and Gan were. Gan had taken his as they left the aisle, and Obi-Wan had been willing to let him keep it.
Obi-Wan glanced at the chrono on the wall and wondered what the next step would be.
It was still early to call it a night, so it would be awkward to split up. If he were on a real date, he would probably go home now with Gan. But if he ended up doing that, he would be under a lot of pressure, both from convention and his own body, to do more than he had ever intended.
Did he want that? Obi-Wan thought back to the kiss inside the theatre. It had felt so good, and he could do a lot more of that. He tried not to think of what Qui-Gon and Bin would be doing elsewhere. But Obi-Wan realized that even if Qui-Gon were safely ensconced back on Coruscant, he really didn't want to spend the night with Gan.
Gan was quite handsome and he had an appealing personality. Considerate, intelligent, and maybe a little eccentric. But Obi-Wan didn't love him. And as long as there was still a chance that some day he could be with Qui-Gon, he didn't want anyone else, not even someone who bore a strong resemblance. No substitutes accepted.
Obi-Wan felt a nudge through the bond and he realized that although Qui-Gon had been the de facto leader up to this point, he was now letting Obi-Wan make the decision. Gan and Bin were looking half-expectantly at each of the Jedi in turn.
"Let's all go to our lodgings for tea," Obi-Wan blurted out. "We carry a several kinds with us from all over the galaxy and I'm sure we can find something to everyone's liking."
"That sounds like a great idea!" Gan said, giving Obi-Wan's hand a squeeze. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it.
Once back in their lodgings, Obi-Wan disappeared into the little galley to set on the kettle while Qui-Gon displayed their selection of teas to the TirFelli.
Qui-Gon guided Gan to a spicy blend while Bin chose a minty herbal. Obi-Wan brought out mugs and a pot of hot water and everyone steeped their own choice.
Gan took a sip of his tea and made an appreciative sound.
"We picked up that tea up on Darew IV," Qui-Gon commented blandly, but it drew a deep groan from Obi-Wan.
The two TirFelli looked at the padawan curiously and Obi-Wan explained, "Oh, that's the planet where I found out I was allergic to the root they use as their main staple. They add it to everything."
The two TirFelli still looked curious, so Obi-Wan added, "Rash. Very itchy. All over my body. I ended up drinking a lot of tea on that mission."
When the chuckling subsided, Bin asked Qui-Gon, "And where did this one come from?" lifting his own mug.
"That was from Necci. We were there for some tricky negotiations and had to fight our way out of one situation. Obi-Wan saved my life."
The TirFellis' attention snapped back to Obi-Wan and he rolled his eyes, saying "Oh, hardly." Again their continued interest prompted Obi-Wan to elaborate. "Well, I did block a few blaster shots, but my master was busy defusing the bomb."
Made uncomfortable by their astonished expressions, Obi-Wan held up his own cup. "This tea came from a planet called XiXen, out near the rim. Qui-Gon found an injured felinid there and adopted it. Of course, he thought it would be too cruel to confine it for the long trip back to Coruscant."
When Obi-Wan didn't continue, Bin and Gan stared at Qui-Gon, waiting for the other boot to drop. "It had nothing better to do all day than mark its new territory," Qui-Gon explained. "Both with scratch marks, and, uh, scent."
"It was a very long trip home," Obi-Wan added.
After laughing, Bin looked at his date. "And what about your tea, Qui-Gon? What fascinating story lies behind it?"
The question prompted Obi-Wan to scan the selection of teas still spread out for display. It did tell of a life story held in common. The teas represented planets where they had shared dangers and pratfalls, seen each other at their best and worst, laughed and cried together, simply lived side-by-side, and learned to trust one another. And love one another? He looked back at Bin. Maybe that too.
"Oh, this one comes from Naboo," Qui-Gon answered dismissively. "We went there recently for trade negotiations. Nothing at all interesting. No occupational hazards, unless you count terminal boredom. Really, most of our missions are rather prosaic."
"And what brings you here to TirFel?" Gan asked. "I was only told you were diplomats."
"We are here to negotiate for the possible right to conduct initiate searches among your population," Qui-Gon explained.
"And why would that be a problem for us?" Bin asked. "It seems like the galaxy could use a few more like you."
"The Yen'a'Ta are Force-sensitives, like the Jedi," Qui-Gon explained. "If we take too many with potential for initiates, there may not be enough for the Yen'a'Ta."
"Before today, I would have said, 'Take them all and good riddance!'" Gan exclaimed, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. "But now I'm not so sure. I'm beginning to think there may be something to them after all," he added, looking first towards Obi-Wan, then Bin.
"I agree," Obi-Wan concurred quietly. "I really didn't appreciate how useful their talents might be before tonight."
"We still have to reach an agreement with your government," Qui-Gon noted, "but I believe the Force will guide us to find the right compromise."
Bin's wrist chrono chimed, announcing the official start of the next day. He stood up. "Well, I think the Force is telling me to go home now and get some sleep. I have an important meeting with someone tomorrow for lunch." Bin smiled shyly in Gan's direction.
Everyone else got to their feet. Gan came over to Obi-Wan and took his hands, saying, "Good night. I'm glad I took the opportunity to go on this date and meet you."
"Thank you, Gan. It was an honor to meet you," Obi-Wan rejoined sincerely, tilting his face upwards.
Gan recognized the implicit invitation and accepted it. He lowered his head and gently, slowly kissed Obi-Wan, not invasively, but not platonically either. Obi-Wan returned the kiss in kind, nearly losing himself in the gaze of the crystal blue eyes looking down at him.
It felt... almost right, but not quite. There was a small pang of regret for what might have been, but also a rush of relief that it wasn't to be.
Then Obi-Wan saw, as if from afar, a series of lightning-fast visions. Gan and Bin working side-by-side in a greenhouse. A bonding ceremony. A longer-haired Gan relaxing with Bin in a common room. Gan, with hair turned pure white, kissing Bin, his own hair nearly bleached. Then Obi-Wan was staring back into those eyes so near his own.
Gan straightened up and Obi-Wan found that his face was wet, though he wasn't sure why. He squeezed Gan's hands and whispered, "You two will be happy together," then let them go.
Obi-Wan hadn't seen what had passed between his master and Bin, but Bin's face was a little pinker than usual.
They all moved to the door and exchanged final goodbyes before the two TirFelli stepped outside. Obi-Wan heard Gan ask Bin if he wanted to share an air cab and saw Bin nodding agreement as the door slid shut.
"Well, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon asked, turning to his apprentice, "What do you think of Nama Yor now?"
It would be easy to answer that question in such a way as to make it obvious he still loved his master. But the only new evidence he had, that of Nama Yor's choosing Bin for Qui-Gon's date, was too indirect.
"She certainly does have a knack, Master," he replied succinctly.
"And what did you think of your date?" Qui-Gon quizzed.
This one was just screaming for him to answer with a not-so-subtle come-on. It really seemed a little cruel of Qui-Gon to press him like this. "I found him attractive and likable," was all Obi-Wan was willing to admit.
"But?"
Sith! Another open-ended question! Why didn't he say something if he wanted to use this discussion as an opening? Obi-Wan trusted his master with his life, and knew in his soul that he wouldn't hurt him intentionally, so why was he doing this?
The answer finally came to him. Because Qui-Gon took the master-padawan rule to heart. It wasn't a matter of following the letter of the law, but rather the intent. He would never want to press himself on his padawan, so he truly needed to know how Obi-Wan felt first. At least, Obi-Wan hoped desperately that it was the answer.
Without giving the matter any further thought Obi-Wan recklessly blurted out, "But he wasn't you, Master!"
With a rush he continued, "He was gorgeous and likeable, even compelling, but I didn't love him. Perhaps given enough time, I could, but I don't think so. My heart has been reserved for you. I love you."
Complete silence, as thick as a blast shield, nearly crushed Obi-Wan for a half-breath then shattered.
"Oh, Ghods, Obi-Wan! I've waited so long to hear you say that!" Qui-Gon gathered his apprentice into his arms and cut off any further discussion by trying to devour Obi-Wan's mouth.
Emotions buffeted Obi-Wan, one after another, like rabbit punches... relief that he hadn't been mistaken, joy that he had been right, shock that he was finally kissing, really kissing, his master, his real master, not some surrogate.
And this time, it did feel right. Completely, utterly, totally right. Obi-Wan's mind and body synchronized as a wave of desire, his own and his master's spilling through the bond, eclipsed his other emotions. They both moaned as the feedback drove them into an instant frenzy of want.
Obi-Wan's hands seized Qui-Gon's head, as if to hold it captive. His fingers tightened in the long locks and he pulled their mouths even more firmly together.
At the same time he pinned one of Qui-Gon's muscular thighs between his legs and began to rub his now achingly hard member against it. Qui-Gon moved his hands to Obi-Wan's buttocks, and used the leverage to thrust his own erection against Obi-Wan's hip.
Qui-Gon's tongue stroked his lips and he opened them fully. The thick tongue plunged inside and explored his mouth, questing and claiming. Obi-Wan was reminded vaguely of his fantasy in the shower, but this was so much better. Despite the passion of their embrace, Obi-Wan felt more overwhelmed by the love and caring Qui-Gon was projecting.
Qui-Gon broke the kiss with some difficulty, given the strength of Obi-Wan's arms. Before Obi-Wan could object, he asked, "Tell me, my Obi-Wan, what do you want?"
Their writhing stilled as Obi-Wan took a breath. The answer was crystal clear. "Your love."
"That you already have, my one. I've loved you since you became my padawan. And I began to love you as a man since before it was legal to do so."
On Coruscant, that age was sixteen. But then, he couldn't have started long after Obi-Wan's confession... perhaps because of it. Obi-Wan felt dizzy to think he hadn't been alone all these years.
"Now tell me what you want us to do," he insisted, while nibbling on Obi-Wan's neck, making it hard to think.
Obi-Wan had had fantasies. Many, many fantasies that would take them years, well maybe only months if they tried really hard, to work their way through. But none of them were based on experience. What would any of them really feel like? He was certain his latest fantasy, at any rate, would be painful, if enacted now, while he was still a virgin.
"Show me," he answered. "Show me what you want to do."
"Oh, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said somewhat indistinctly, as he dropped the braid his lips had been tugging on. "You don't have to try to please me. Just tell me how to please you."
Obi-Wan hesitated. It was so hard to admit this. But he could trust his master with anything now... the man loved him, had loved him all these years. Surely he could make things all right.
"I don't really know, Master. I don't have much experience."
Qui-Gon lifted his face, bearing the marks of confusion. "You don't know?" he asked, sounding puzzled. His eyes narrowed slightly and he captured Obi-Wan's gaze. "Just how much experience do you have?"
"Umm, pretty much only what happened tonight. If you count that." Obi-Wan wasn't sure what Qui-Gon's reaction would be, but thought he might be taken aback, or at least made uncomfortable. Instead, Obi-Wan felt pure astonishment in the bond.
Then Qui-Gon crushed Obi-Wan to his breast, wrapped his arms possessively around him, and covered his face with kisses. "Obi-Wan! Oh, Ghods!" he exclaimed. "To think that you might have gone home with Gan!"
Obi-Wan didn't say anything and just revelled in being held and cherished. After a few moments, the frantic kisses melted into slower, sensual caresses.
"Will you lie in bed with me, my love?" Qui-Gon whispered in his ear.
Anything you want, Obi-Wan thought, but no words came out. Instead he pulled Qui-Gon by the elbows in the direction of the larger bedroom.
Qui-Gon kissed his cheek while disentangling himself and said, "I'll join you there in a moment." He indicated the bedroom to Obi-Wan with a wave, then disappeared into the fresher.
In the bedroom, Obi-Wan wondered what he should do. Get on the bed? Not with all his clothes on. But getting undressed now didn't seem right either. Well, at least he could get rid of his boots. He wrenched them off quickly but was still holding one when Qui-Gon entered.
After placing something discretely on the nightstand, his master held out both hands to him, saying, "Let me. Please."
Perplexed, Obi-Wan handed him the boot and Qui-Gon laughed. "I meant, let me continue. Undressing you." The amusement Obi-Wan felt through the bond was tempered by love and desire.
"Oh." Obi-Wan blushed, and the thought of his master's hands undressing him only made his face flush further.
Qui-Gon toed off his own boots and lined all four of them up next to the door. He reached out again and this time Obi-Wan stepped close.
Qui-Gon placed his hands gently on his padawan's neck and his fingers followed the folds of his tunic down, lightly stroking his chest through the cloth. Obi-Wan's flesh tingled underneath, reaching down to his groin, where his erection still tented his leggings.
The clasp of Obi-Wan's utility belt sprang open and Qui-Gon hung the belt over the back of a nearby chair.
Then Qui-Gon unwound the sash, embracing Obi-Wan and kissing him each time he passed the loose end around his back. The first time was light, almost chaste. The second was sweet and loving. The third one drew a moan from Obi-Wan as their lips parted. The last one had Obi-Wan clutching Qui-Gon's shoulders as they traded tongues rhythmically and ground their bodies together. Then the sash joined the belt on the back of the chair.
At this point, Obi-Wan hoped Qui-Gon would just rip off his tunics. Instead, the master slowly unwrapped his padawan as if he were a treasured keepsake that had been stored away for years. As each inch was uncovered with exquisite care, Qui-Gon explored it first with his fingertips then with his lips and tongue. The slight scratching from beard and mustache sensitized Obi-Wan's skin and left a trail of gooseflesh.
Qui-Gon murmured, "I want you... I want you so much... but not a moment too soon."
Obi-Wan was quivering and steadied himself by burrowing his hands into Qui-Gon's hair. "Master, I don't know if I can take much more of this..." he warned. While not sure of what he ultimately wanted, he knew it involved being naked already.
Qui-Gon made some sort of humming noise, either in acknowledgement or need. Since his lips were at that moment down near the waistband, the vibration made Obi-Wan's cock twitch. But the exploration of Obi-Wan's torso was continued with the same slow deliberation.
When one of Obi-Wan's nipples was finally exposed, he held his breath until he moaned helplessly when saber-calloused fingertips traced the aureole. Then Qui-Gon gently nibbled at the hardened teat and Obi-Wan's control snapped. He grasped the back of his master's head and arched his chest, imploring, "More, oh, more!"
Qui-Gon sucked the nipple into his mouth and Obi-Wan cried out, tightening his grasp in the head of hair. The tongue flicked quickly back and forth and Obi-Wan took matters into his own hands. He shucked his tunics off his shoulders and released Qui-Gon's head briefly to let them fall to the floor. He flexed his hips, made contact with his master's leg, and bucked while moaning, "Please, please..." still not sure what he was requesting.
Qui-Gon responded by slipping his thumbs beneath the band of Obi-Wan's leggings and pulling out and down to release Obi-Wan's jutting cock. He dropped to his knees and before the young man could blink, the master swallowed him to the root.
Obi-Wan truly yelled out then, as if he had been mortally wounded. Qui-Gon sucked his way back up the length of the shaft and began tonguing the head as he had tongued the nipple.
Obi-Wan wanted this, wanted this so much, but... he desperately pushed at Qui-Gon's face. "Little Ghods, Master, stop or I'll... Oh! Qui-Gon!!!" Obi-Wan came hard, spurting into his master's mouth. His ecstasy burned away any thought he might have that he'd done something wrong and the pleasure magnified and reflected back in the bond.
Obi-Wan's knees buckled and Qui-Gon caught him, twisting him sideways onto the bed while remaining kneeling on the floor himself. He continued gently mouthing Obi-Wan's member and nuzzling into his groin. When he finally relinquished the softened shaft, he licked at the sac underneath, rolling the balls around.
His continued attentions and the unsatisfied desire burning in the bond caused Obi-Wan's cock to stir and start to fill again. Obi-Wan lifted his head and caught Qui-Gon's glance.
Qui-Gon scooted up and kissed his padawan deeply on the mouth. The taste of himself shocked Obi-Wan; the thought of his seed being in his master's mouth made him instantly hard again.
Qui-Gon stood up and stripped in a small fraction of the time it had taken him to open Obi-Wan's tunics.
As Qui-Gon's erection sprang free, Obi-Wan gasped. He had seen it in the shower before, but never in this state. It was large and darkly flushed, pointed straight at him and pulsing. It was a mesmerizing sight and Obi-Wan reached out, thinking he'd sit up and take it into his mouth.
But Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan to roll over onto his front and then pulled him up onto his hands and knees. It seemed too soon. His master must want him this way now, even though he didn't feel ready. But he trusted Qui-Gon and could still feel the love and caring in the bond, despite the white heat flooding it.
The large hands massaging his globes now were relaxing but when Obi-Wan felt something nudge his entrance, near-panic seized him. The next instant he realized it was just his master's nose, though what it was doing there was a mystery to him. He felt the nudge again and then a tongue was licking his perineum, something he had never imagined, and if he had, he would never have thought it could feel so good.
The massaging, licking, and nudging were exciting and soothing him at the same time. He started to sway back and forth, trying not to think of what he was impaling himself on.
Then suddenly the nose was gone and Obi-Wan regretted it briefly until the tongue slid up and took its place. When that tongue first slipped into him, Obi-Wan was slaughtered for the second time that night, at least from the sound of it.
He had never given much thought to this act and to the extent he had, figured it was a huge imposition on those performing it. But as the tongue squirmed about at different angles and pushed at the edges of his opening, Obi-Wan welcomed it. He knew Qui-Gon was relishing this act almost as much as he was. If the sounds of pleasure weren't clue enough, the hunger in the bond made it clear. Knowing this left Obi-Wan wishing only perhaps that humans were more well endowed.
He ratcheted urgently back and forth, trying to get more of the tongue inside him, while Qui-Gon steadied his hips, perhaps to make sure his profile didn't end up even more askew.
Obi-Wan was as needy as he'd been earlier and Qui-Gon's echoing desire pulsed through the bond. Surely he was ready now. "Master... Qui-Gon... please make love to me."
Qui-Gon pulled his face away. "That's what I'm doing, Obi-Wan," he said seriously.
"I meant in me..." Obi-Wan was now sure he wanted that.
"I was that doing that too." Qui-Gon tickled the entrance with the tip of his tongue.
"Master! Please, you know what I want!" Obi-Wan half-pleaded, half-groused.
"Say it, my love. Tell me what you want!" Qui-Gon's voice was taut with passion.
Did he want it? Yes! His body was singing and his mind wanted to be joined with Qui-Gon in the deepest possible way, even if it did hurt this time. He would let his master know that in no uncertain terms. The words started out low, like a prayer, but rose quickly into a frenzied, shouted order.
"Please, Qui-Gon, make love to me. Do it. Put your cock in me. Put it in my ass. Ride me. Fuck me! Fuck me into the mattress! Fuck me senseless and come inside me!!"
The silence of the next moment was more deafening than the yelling.
Qui-Gon lunged for something on the nightstand then flipped Obi-Wan over onto his back with such force that he bounced. He pushed Obi-Wan's legs apart and Obi-Wan felt two slick fingers breach his opening.
They were stiffer than the tongue, longer and thicker and it took a moment to adjust. But Qui-Gon slid them in and out and soon Obi-Wan wanted them and more. Qui-Gon added another slick finger and it didn't hurt but there was pressure and discomfort and Obi-Wan felt he was truly stretched to the limit. He hoped he could live up to his words.
Still thrusting his fingers, Qui-Gon suddenly twisted his hand, changing the angle, and Obi-Wan was yelling again.
The jolts of pleasure shooting through him were like back-to-back orgasms but they fueled his need rather than sating it. He opened himself, humping, wanting more, something longer... he wanted the real thing. A small, rational part of his brain docketed the new-found location of his prostate. The rest of him focused on what was important, making his mouth form the necessary words.
"Ghods, Qui-Gon! Do it now! Please, I'm ready! In me now! Take me!" he begged. It was hard to speak clearly with his head thrashing back and forth.
The fingers deserted him and Obi-Wan desperately tried to catch his breath.
Qui-Gon kissed him urgently. "I've waited so long, my Obi-Wan! I love you! I've loved you all this time."
Then Obi-Wan felt his master's hand brush his inner thigh and something slicker, broader, and hotter than his nose was pressing at his entrance and Obi-Wan wanted it, needed it inside him.
"Now you're finally mine!" Qui-Gon was the one who yelled this time as he thrust and entered Obi-Wan, sliding all the way in.
Deep within his core, an emptiness that Obi-Wan only identified now by its absense was suddenly filled. The physical sensation was nothing compared to the pervading sense of his master, claiming him, loving him, and cherishing him all at the same time.
"Force, Obi-Wan, you feel so good!" Qui-Gon exclaimed as his still-slick hand enveloped Obi-Wan's shaft. "Move with me, love!"
They thrust together, the movement so natural that Obi-Wan needed no practice. Qui-Gon's hand stroked him with the same rhythm. Up and down, in and out, he was surrounded and filled at the same time, each movement ratcheting him closer to release.
Qui-Gon began pounding into him, fisting his cock faster. His movements became jerky and his breathing loud in Obi-Wan's ear.
"I won't last long," Qui-Gon gasped raspily. "Come now! Come for me!"
Obi-Wan did just that, emptying himself with bone-wracking shudders as Qui-Gon gushed wet heat deep inside him. The bond flared to an unbearable intensity that fused them to each other for forever in the moment. They were both shouting incoherently of love. Neither of them heard the words, but they were no longer needed.
Qui-Gon collapsed, managing to throw most of his weight to the side. Obi-Wan was still pinned right where he wanted to be. With heart racing and breath labored, he summoned the strength to twine his arms around his love's neck and plant soft kisses on his face. Qui-Gon returned them, though he seemed only half-conscious.
Obi-Wan lay there, sated and blissful as his breath returned. He was happier now than he'd ever been in his life. How amazing that things had turned out this way. He sent a Force blessing in Nama Yor's direction, even though she hadn't matched them together.
"Master?"
"Yes, my love? What is it?" Qui-Gon seemed to have mostly recovered.
"How is it that Nama Yor could come so close and still blow it? Why didn't she match Bin with Gan and you with me?"
Qui-Gon propped his head up with one hand before answering. "Well, what might have happened in that case? Gan might have refused if he knew Bin was looking for a life partner and that would have only hurt Bin's feelings."
Obi-Wan flinched. He felt a lot of empathy for this hypothetical situation of Bin's.
Qui-Gon continued, "I don't know what would have happened between us, but I suspect we'd have spent a very uncomfortable evening together."
Realizing the truth behind Qui-Gon's statement, Obi-Wan laughed. "I'm beginning to think Yen'a'Ta should be another career choice for initiates. It's a shame we Jedi have to struggle along without one." After a short pause he added, "Do you really think she mismatched us on purpose?"
"I think it's quite likely. In any event, I don't think things could have turned out any better than they did."
"Well, that's certainly true," Obi-Wan said, stroking his lover's cheek. "Things have worked out perfectly."
Obi-Wan's lips followed his hand and soon they were kissing passionately again.
Nearby, a few blocks over in the TirFelli capital, an elderly Yen'a'Ta pondered the outcome of a pair of recent matches she had made. Cackling, as was often her wont, she exclaimed "Perfect!" yet again.
Meanwhile, on Coruscant, half a galaxy away, a certain 900-year-old GrandMaster pondered the outcome of one of the missions he had recently assigned.
"Meant for each other, they are. Knew the Yen'a'Ta could do it, I did! Perfect, that match is. Perfect!"