Exercise

by Leandra

Category: hmmm... hard decision: First Time, Light-BDSM? I don't know, def. Q/O, let the archivist decide
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Obi-Wan doesn't belong to me. He doesn't belong to George Lucas. He belongs to Qui-Gon. And the other way around :-)
Feedback: would be very appreciated :-)
Distribution: m_a, nutters inc.
Summary: A very unusual exercise.
Thanks: to Lilith for writing "The Apprentice Master", even if sub!Qui refused to appear in that one... to Raina for a first beta, holding my hand and helping me fan myself when it got hot. most of all to Tem-Ve for betaing this again during her lunchbreak on her little psion and for a wonderful weekend of slash-talk that inspired me!
Note: My muses were naughty. They didn?t want to do what I wanted them to do. Instead they did this:

They had pre-ordered this room 3 days ago and when he snatched the access code from the registration desk on the lowest level of the Temple building, Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, amused at the fact that there were still apprentices lining up to reserve one of the smaller training halls for a sparring match with their Masters.

The annual Master and Apprentice training match was due next month and every team used the last weeks to prepare for the big day. Qui- Gon had usually declined to participate in such senseless amusement, but this year they had some very rough missions behind them and had been given some downtime at the Temple. Qui-Gon was determined to use it to drill his Padawan mercilessly, and not just in his lightsaber skills. He had also insisted that Obi-Wan be assigned to more classes than ever before including 3 hours a week on Lorrdian sign language which normally left Obi-Wan braindead and incoherent.

Obi-Wan climbed the steps to the second level, nearly bouncing with energy. Qui-Gon might be pushing his limits, but it was nothing compared to their lives when they were away on a mission. At least he had regular sleep at the Temple, the food was suiting his needs regardig taste as well as looks, and it was rather uncommon to get seriously injured while staying at the Temple.

Qui-Gon waited patiently for him in front of the door to the training hall they had reserved, the picture of a Jedi Master inside and out. He nodded approvingly when Obi-Wan keyed the access code into the small sunken pad in the wall.

They immediately settled into their normal routine, shedding their outer robes at the entrance in a fluid motion and warming their cold muscles, beginning with the basic kata until both were spinning, leaping and somersaulting in the movements of the Knight's kata, a training exercise Obi-Wan had recently brought to perfection and which he was clearly proud of. Most senior Padawans needed months to complete that special exercise, but with the help of his Master Obi-Wan had learned it in less than 5 weeks. 5 hard weeks, he had to admit.

When they had both finished, their bodies were covered in a thin film of sweat, moisture that glistened on Qui-Gon's upper lip and highlighted the silver in the Master's hair. This observation would have been redundant if it hadn't been for the things that Obi-Wan had noticed while he folded his sweaty arms neatly in front of his body, waiting for further instructions.

Qui-Gon's hands moved to his waist and he reached for the lightsaber that was hanging on his utility belt. Obi-Wan reached down for his own but stopped when he watched Qui-Gon toss the saber to the other side of the room. He shot a questioning look at his Master, a look that was rewarded with a tiny smirk, curving his Master's thin lips upwards.

"We don't fight with weapons today. You have to come to the understanding of your own body as the most dangerous weapon there is," Qui-Gon finally said. His eyes followed Obi-Wan's hand when he clipped his lightsaber off his own belt and tossed it aside, mimicking the movements of his Master earlier.

Qui-Gon started to circle him slowly and Obi-Wan immediately directed his attention to Qui-Gon's body language. He had long ago learned that the body language, how well somebody could conceal it, was giving away the next attack a small flicker of time before it was launched. He had learned to notice the small shifting of tiniest muscles in the arms of the other man, the swallowing, the tiny bobbing of the Adam's apple, the little twitch of his fingers.

They circled each other, neither of them making the first move, but regarding each other, categorizing every insecurity, the smallest hesitation, the tiniest hint of a possible attack. It was Qui-Gon who leaped forward first, the back of his hand making contact with Obi-Wan's wrist. The motion had been so fast that Obi-Wan had sensed more than seen it coming. He had barely blocked the blow with his arm. But now there was no time to contemplate his near-failure for he had to concentrate on the numerous attacks Qui-Gon was launching on him in a fluent, almost dance-like assault, hits showering down on him faster than he could think. He'd managed to deflect them so far, but was unable to initiate an attack himself.

Suddenly Qui-Gon somersaulted forward over Obi-Wan's head, landing behind his apprentice to tug strongly on the braid that hung from behind Obi-Wan's ear.

"Don't rely on your expectations, my young apprentice," he said and his tone was mocking, his eyes sparkled in amusement.

Obi-Wan nodded, coaxing a half-heartily "Yes, Master" trough gritted teeth. He was angry at himself for allowing himself to be lulled by the steady motions his Master had performed, as predictable and precise as the 3-day sandstorms on Tatooine. This had been an easy test and he had failed already.

"Remember no opponent is predictable and no rival is like the other."

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon attacked again and this time he was leaping in and out of Obi-Wan's personal space, but instead of hitting him, he teased him by poking his finger into his ribs whenever Obi-Wan let his guard down. It was frustrating and humiliating and it angered Obi-Wan even more.

"Don't let your guard down..."

Obi-Wan cursed himself for his lack of concentration. Qui-Gon was making him nervous and he was ashamed to see that he could not, however hard he tried, foresee the varied attacks his Master started. He managed to block a row of assaults on his lower abdomen and gritted his teeth, paying more attention to cover his lower body, when he suddenly received a full blow to the face. His head flew back, his eyes shutting against the pain that surged through his nose like a leak of fire on his skin. He reached up to discover that fresh blood was oozing from his nostrils, leading a trail of moisture down to his chin. The coppery taste of blood was on his tongue when he parted his lips to breathe.

"Don't let your attention focus on one thing more than the other...," Qui-Gon chided, and Obi-Wan groaned in frustration.

He had no idea why he failed so completely at this exercise. He knew the skill he had shown in the last 20 minutes was easily mastered by a junior Padawan.

Qui-Gon started to dance around him again, his attacks fast and carefully considered. His Master succeeded in hitting Obi-Wan again, bringing a forceful blow to his chin. Obi-Wan bit his lip, tasted blood that mingled with the blood that still oozed from his probably broken nose.

"You are angry, Padawan," Qui-Gon observed and stopped his attack. He regarded Obi-Wan with a contemplative look, noticing the stormy eyes of the young man that sparkled with fury.

"Learn to use your emotion. Let it rush through you," Qui-Gon instructed him, then without warning attacked Obi-Wan again. This time Obi-Wan saw the stroke coming and blocked it with his wrist. A shudder of pain seeped from his arm up to his shoulder from the force of Qui-Gon's blow.

"Don't let yourself be reigned by your emotion but rein in your emotion," Qui-Gon advised him further.

"Your emotion can be a powerful ally, if you know how to use it."

Obi-Wan concentrated hard. He definitely felt a turmoil of emotions anger, humiliation, frustration, rage, a confusing mix of admiration, love and hate directed at his Master. He tried to obey Qui-Gon's instructions, concentrating on his feelings instead of trying to ignore them. He reveled in them, letting them seep through him. A small gap in Qui-Gon's defense and he vaulted forward, catching his Master by surprise and managing a shove to his chest.

The momentum brought Qui-Gon out of balance and Obi-Wan leaned in with all his weight, his attempt at regaining a steady stance on the soft training mattress a futile one. They crashed to the ground, Qui-Gon's breath escaping his body in a low hiss when the impact of Obi-Wan's young but strong body hit him with full force.

Obi-Wan winced when his elbow made contact with the hard surface of his Master's chest, once more drawing the breath from Qui-Gon's lungs. His Master opened the eyes he had kept shut during the crash and blinked at him.

"See? That's for using your emotions...," Obi-Wan couldn't prevent himself from quoting sarcastically.

"Padawan...," Qui-Gon chided in a low voice, half mocking, half serious.

Despite the fact that Obi-Wan's elbow was pressing into his rib, he actually enjoyed the close presence of his apprentice's lithe form pinning him to the hard training mattress, but this emotion wasn't something Qui-Gon Jinn was particularly proud of.

"You were not yet using your emotions. You were only experiencing them. Which emotions did you experience?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to breathe even with the weight of Obi-Wan pressing down on his ribcage.

Obi-Wan regarded him with a look that was animalistic at least. Qui-Gon's question would have normally been the point where Obi-Wan would contemplate the training lesson, learning from the example his Master had set. But not this time.

He leaned forward until his face was inches away from his Master. "Anger..,." he hissed, his warm breath ghosting over Qui-Gon's face.

"And?" Qui-Gon managed to choke out, this time his low voice was a result of the dangerous purr in Obi-Wan's articulation.

"Frustration. Humiliation. Rage." Obi-Wan spat out each word. "Fury."

Qui-Gon wanted this lesson to end, feeling mighty uncomfortable with his Padawan pinning him to the ground. This lesson was intended to let his apprentice loose his cool. The next step in the lesson would be to show his apprentice how to channel these emotions and use them to his advantage. This particular exercise was always a task he dreaded. Working with one's emotions was like walking a thin path between the Light and the Dark Side.

"Very good," Qui-Gon said and struggled to sit up, trying to push the heavy weight of his apprentice aside.

"Now you have to learn how to draw power from these feelings. You were reigned by your feelings when you pushed me to the ground, not the other way around."

He stopped when he noticed that his effort to get up had not been supported by his Padawan. Obi-Wan hadn't risen, but was now straddling his lap, staring at him with huge eyes that had regained a cool shade of sparkling green.

"I thought...," Obi-Wan started softly.

"You thought you already used your emotions," Qui-Gon interrupted him. "You let your anger lead your actions."

His apprentice hung his head, still not moving from his place on Qui-Gon's thighs. Qui-Gon sighed. He remembered how painful this exercise had been for him, when Master Dooku had led him trough it. There was a reason why this exercise was practiced only with senior Padawans. It was one of the most hurtful experiences and it had to be taught again and again. While a Jedi learned from the crčche on that fear led to anger and anger to the Dark Side, he was not taught that he could use those emotions. Emotions not even a Jedi could suppress. Emotions like anger, hurt, fear even, and love also. Only because a Jedi was the perfect epitome of serenity on the outside, it didn't mean he didn“t have a turmoil of feelings to fight, and use, inside of him.

Qui-Gon reached up and raised his Padawan's blood-smeared chin so that he met his eyes.

"I know it hurts, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon wasn't addressing his physical injuries. He swallowed, the taste of copper in his mouth sickening him. He knew his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Never in his whole life had he felt so ashamed. He was not worthy of being a Jedi. He had lost his temper. It might not have been obvious to an observer, but Obi-Wan knew it, and the worst thing was, Qui-Gon knew it too.

He closed his eyes, trying to keep the moisture from spilling from them by pressing his lashes together. Involuntarily, he leaned into the warm touch of Qui-Gon's hand, searching the heat that radiated from the callused palm. A soft stroke of a rough thumb made him open his eyes again.

Qui-Gon's indigo eyes were watching him with compassion, but behind that expression was another emotion, deeply hidden but still there. Sudden realisation dawned on Obi-Wan concerning the nature of that hidden emotion.

"What about emotions that are not connected to the Dark Side? What about using them to your advantage? Like...," Obi-Wan hesitated, "...love?"

"Love can also reign your actions, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his thumb still stroking Obi-Wan's cheek. He wanted to stop himself from touching his apprentice like this, but he found he couldn't.

"And that is bad?" Obi-Wan asked softly, a low purr of contentment slipping from his lips at the light touch.

"Love is an emotion like all the others too, and therefore has to be reigned. Serenity over Passion." In the same instant he quoted that particular sentence, he knew how close to disregarding that mantra he was when looking at Obi-Wan.

"Oh...," Obi-Wan whispered, sounding disappointed. His eyes were still tightly shut, his head tilted to the side where his cheek lay in his Master's warm hand. Just when Qui-Gon was about to pull back his hand, Obi-Wan turned his head to the side and smoothed his lips in his Master's palm, letting them ghost softly over the surface.

Qui-Gon shuddered involuntarily, unable to withdraw his hand that was now covered with soft almost non-existent kisses, so tender he might even be imagining them. Then Obi-Wan whispered, and his warm breath slid over Qui-Gon's palm like another caress, provoking another dart of desire to shoot up his back.

"How can I reign over something that is so deeply anchored in my very soul? How can I suppress such a powerful emotion?"

Qui-Gon's mouth had gone dry, and he desperately tried to remember how to answer in such a case, but he had forgotten the lesson he had wanted to teach his Padawan the instant a wet tongue darted out and circled the Master's palm. A low groan escaped his throat at the delicate torture Obi-Wan inflicted on him with the touch of his tongue. He softly forced Obi-Wan to turn his head towards him, then glanced into the shimmering eyes of his apprentice, searching for something he hadn't known was there until now. When he found what he was looking for, he swallowed, then cleared his throat.

"Love, my beautiful apprentice, is something entirely different, though the Jedi philosophy regards it as an emotion like hate or anger or fear." His voice was raspy and he nearly smiled at the somewhat shocked but interested look that crossed Obi-Wan's features at his words.

"Yes. I defy the Jedi philosophy in that too." He almost snickered, then composed himself.

When Obi-Wan simply gaped at him, he leaned forward slowly, giving the young man who was still sitting in his lap the possibility to draw back if he so wished. A smile curved his lips when Obi-Wan moved in all by himself, without hesitation, to meet his mouth. The first contact of Qui-Gon's soft warm lips on his made Obi-Wan moan deep in his throat. It felt so wonderful, so delicious and when Qui-Gon started to softly nibble at his lips, he parted them without thinking, opening the cavern of his mouth under the assault of the other man's tongue.

Qui-Gon tasted him only briefly, then drew back to watch his apprentice's face. Obi-Wan had his eyes closed still and leaned forward, wanting more of the touch, more of Qui-Gon's mouth on his, of Qui-Gon's tongue tracing his lips, slipping into his mouth, tasting him, exploring him.

Qui-Gon raised his hand to Obi-Wan's face once more, now wiping away the sticky evidence of his blow to Obi-Wan's nose with his thumb. When Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, his Master brought his blood-smeared thumb to his lips, his pink tongue darting out, tasting the coppery flavor of Obi-Wan's blood on his finger.

A surge of passion overwhelmed Obi-Wan and he threw himself forward, crushing Qui-Gon under him once more, his mouth closing over Qui-Gon's frantically.

Their lips moved against each other in a slow but enticing rhythm, and then Qui-Gon parted his lips and invited Obi-Wan to explore his mouth. Obi-Wan reached up, tangling his hands in the soft mane of hair, his hips starting an urgent movement, rubbing his body along Qui-Gon's. The immediate reaction from his Master was evident through their soft training leggings and it satisfied him and made him braver.

Qui-Gon brought his hands up on both sides of his apprentice, sliding them down his sides and then towards his behind. He softly grabbed the well-muscled arse, pulling him closer while pushing his hips up in the same instant. The movement roused a throaty groan from Obi-Wan and he arched into his Master's body.

He nestled his head at the side of Qui-Gon's throat, his tongue darting out to softly lick and nibble on the exposed flesh. A sudden bite made Qui-Gon jump and shout in surprise and Obi-Wan found he liked the needy whimper that followed his Master's roar, biting down on the abused flesh again, then licking over the inflicted bruise, soothing the tortured skin.

Qui-Gon decided to turn the tables. With a push of the Force he rolled Obi-Wan under him, now lying on top of his apprentice, covering the smaller body with his own.

"Can you reign your passion, my young apprentice?" He used two tendrils of the Force to hold Obi-Wan's arms and upper body down, securing his hands at his sides. Overseeing the confused look of his apprentice he started to part the folds of Obi-Wan's training tunic, peeling the thin fabric away to reveal a smooth, hairless chest. He brought his mouth down on his Padawan's throat, then slowly started to lick downwards, his eyes never leaving the huge ones of his Padawan who regarded him with a look of desire, mingled with enchanted bewilderment.

His mouth found a dark-brown nipple and he closed his lips around it, sucking on it softly, then grazed his teeth over the pebbled peak, eliciting a low moan from his apprentice, followed by a sharp hiss when he bit down on it hard. He left the spot, a whimper of protest flying from his Padawan's mouth, and continued his sweet torture on the other nipple. Qui-Gon noticed with satisfaction how tense Obi- Wan's body had become under this erotic assault, how he arched into every touch of his hands, how he reacted to every lick of his tongue.

Slowly Qui-Gon slid lower down Obi-Wan's abdomen, parting the concealing material of his tunic further until it slid apart, leaving Obi-Wan's upper body exposed to his eyes. He licked a wet trail down Obi-Wan's lower abdomen, tracing the thin line of crisp pubic hair pointing like an arrow to his groin, then blew on the moist spot delicately. When he started to dip his tongue under the waistband of Obi-Wan's pants the young man's upper body was trashing uncontrollably, the muscles in his stomach rippling under the soft skin smoothly.

"Master...," Obi-Wan breathed when Qui-Gon dug his fingers into the waistband of his pants and slowly eased them down over his slender hips, freeing his aching erection. The cool air on his heated member caused it to twitch and Obi-Wan trew his head to one side and licked his dry lips.

Qui-Gon chose that moment to remind Obi-Wan of the exercise. "Rein in your passion until I allow you to use it," he said softly, his fingers tracing a line up from Obi-Wan's knee to his groin.

"Please Master..," Obi-Wan whispered through clenched teeth, his heels digging into the floor, his whole body straining.

Maddeningly deliberate, Qui-Gon leaned forward, puffing his warm moist breath over Obi-Wan's cock before running his tongue up the underside. Despite the Force bindings Obi-Wan's upper body trashed violently from that light touch. Qui-Gon repeated his motion as slowly as before and watched his apprentice writhing in the throes of passion.

"Rule your passion, Obi-Wan," he reminded his apprentice again, his own hoarse voice betraying his advice.

Obi-Wan pressed his eyes shut and suppressed a flood of curses that wanted to escape his mouth at Qui-Gon's order. His Master finished with the agonizing slow licks on his engorged member and engulfed him in his mouth, taking him in deep, his teeth ever so slightly grazing over his flesh. It took all of Obi-Wan's willpower not to surrender to his lust when the tip of Qui-Gon's tongue teased the small slit at the head of his cock. Just when he was about to get himself under control, the pulsing of his own heart sounding like thunder in his ears, Qui-Gon reached down to cup his testicles and squeezed them gently.

"Master!" Obi-Wan whimpered.

Qui-Gon growled at the needy shout of his title, the vibration of it shooting another spark of pleasure through Obi-Wan's penis. A grateful and at the same time protesting sigh came from Obi-Wan's lips when Qui-Gon released him, once more licking along his length before crawling up his apprentice's body to bring his lips down on the open mouth.

Greedily Obi-Wan took what was offered, sucking on the other man's lips and tongue, faintly tasting his own flavor on those lips. One part of him was grateful for the break, another part of him felt sorry for the absence of Qui-Gon's mouth on him.

Too soon Qui-Gon slid down his body again, occasionally stopping to nip or lick on Obi-Wan's skin. Anticipation was building in Obi-Wan again and he trembled violently when Qui-Gon bit the soft skin on his thigh. Suddenly Qui-Gon sat up again, his eyes dark with emotion. He let his index finger rub over Obi-Wan's bottom lip and watched with a shudder as it was sucked in. Obi-Wan's tongue circled around his finger, then he nibbled on it, letting it slide through his teeth, gently worrying the skin.

A shaky breath escaped Qui-Gon when he withdrew his finger. He took some time to watch the wanton expression on Obi-Wan's face, the soft sweaty hair that stuck to his forehead, the impressive green eyes burning with desire. His Padawan's nose was a little swollen, a small trickle of dried blood from one nostril was still indicating the blow he had received earlier.

Qui-Gon reached down to take Obi-Wan's flushed erection in his fist and started to stroke him slowly, but firmly, his eyes never leaving the green ones of his Padawan. Soon the pleasure was building again to unbearable heights in Obi-Wan, the motion of Qui-Gon's hand on him was driving him mad and brought him dangerously near the edge. His whole body was trembling by now with the need to surrender to his pleasure, to surrender to this one fantasy he had kept inside him for so long and that he was now part of.

//Reign.// He heard the voice of his Master in his mind and he swallowed soundly, moistening his dry mouth.

He wanted so badly to come, he wanted so badly to spill his release into those stroking teasing hands that were playing his cock skillfully like an instrument. Qui-Gon slowed down a bit, but he increased the pressure of his fist, using the pre-cum oozing from the tip of Obi-Wan's penis to lubricate the movement of his hand.

"Please...please Master, let me.. I need to come. Please..," Obi-Wan whimpered, his face a mask of need.

"Not yet, my beloved," Qui-Gon whispered softly, leaning forward to study the expression on Obi-Wan's face, fighting with his own high arousal.

He gathered the fluid that leaked from the tip of Obi-Wan's penis with two fingers and brought them between his apprentice's buttocks, slowly pressing one lubricated finger to the puckered opening there.

Obi-Wan sucked in breath fiercely and cried out loud, his hips rising of their own account to meet that new treat. As before, Qui-Gon took his time, working his finger in slowly before adding a second digit. Obi-Wan bit his lips to dampen the constant grunts and moans that threatened to escape him, his own cries only adding to his arousal. He noticed the harsh breaths coming from his Master's lips, those sounds of arousal deepening his own desire.

The flesh on his lip tore open when he stifled another loud groan and he tasted blood for the third time this day. Qui-Gon was mercilessly stroking, pressing and teasing his body and somewhere beyond the fog of arousal that invaded his mind, Obi-Wan was able to keep himself from coming. He was so aching for it, his whole body was on fire and he knew there was only one thing that could possibly quench that itching flame.

Suddenly the assault on his cock stopped, the fingers left his body and he heard the rustling of clothes. He caught his breath, not daring to open his eyes. "Yes... Please. Do it," he hissed, arching up to meet Qui-Gon, his hands tugging on the invisible Force- restraints.

When his hips were raised and placed over his Master's thighs, he opened his eyes and a surge of love flowed through him. The sight of his Master's nude form, of his impressive arousal and the look on his face made Obi-Wan nearly limp. He locked eyes with his Master then raised his hips, rubbing his opening invitingly over Qui-Force-bounds that held his upper body in place.

A low groan escaped his Master's throat and then Qui-Gon pressed his hips forward, the moisture on the tip of his own member the only additional lubricant necessary.

Qui-Gon slid slowly into his body, savouring the feel of the tightness surrounding him, as well as the throaty sounds flying from Obi-Wan's lips. He draped himself over the body underneath him and leaned forward to brush his lips across Obi-Wan's. The kiss deepened, their tongues duelling in an imitation of their love act. Qui-Gon built up a slow pace that Obi-Wan met with urgent little pushes of his hips. Obi-Wan's whole body was aching by now with the effort of holding back the inevitable for so long and his tired tense muscles protested in agony, almost cramping.

"Please...," he whimpered again between little gasps of air.

Suddenly the Force-bonds on his arms were released and he raised his arms to bury them in Qui-Gon's soft hair, to tug on the strands, to dig his fingers into the other's sweaty shoulders.

Qui-Gon sped up, his movements growing more urgent. He slid a damp palm over Obi-Wan's cheek and gazed at him lovingly.

"Now, my love," he whispered, then reached for Obi-Wan's erection between their bodies and stroked him in rhythm to his thrusts.

Obi-Wan felt the walls he had erected around his own need shatter and he let himself fall into the pleasure of the moment, receiving fully what Qui-Gon was offering. It took him only two more strokes, then he threw his head back and arched his spine, exploding with a shout.

The clenching of his muscles brought Qui-Gon over the edge too and the larger man collapsed on top of him with an equal sound of pleasure, sucking in breath heavily.

Qui-Gon slid down and rested his head on the younger man's heaving chest, listening to the drum-like beating of his heart. He tried to calm his own breathing, rubbing his nose against the soft sweaty skin of Obi-Wan“s chest.

After a while during which neither of them spoke, Obi-Wan let out a contented sigh. A small smug grin spread over Qui-Gon's face and he raised his head to gaze at his apprentice's flushed face.

"What have you learned, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked him softly, his fingers tracing a path from Obi-Wan“s left nipple down to his navel.

Obi-Wan contemplated the question for a moment before answering. Then he said: "I've learned how to reign and how to use my emotions, I guess."

He looked down at his Master and waited for his approval. Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. Indeed. And?" he asked, searching the eyes of his apprentice again.

"My body is the most dangerous weapon of all?" Obi-Wan more asked than stated, provoking a rusty laugh from his Master. "Yes. Something else?"

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling a little. "You love me," he said after a while, his voice a little cocky.

"Of course," Qui-Gon answered, hiding his smug grin while nuzzling Obi-Wan's throat.

Obi-Wan sighed again, a sigh of satisfaction. He let himself be wrapped in strong arms, breathing in the musky scent of his Master.

"A very unusual way to teach me this exercise, wasn't it?" Obi-Wan asked finally.

Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to the crown of his spiky hair.

"You are a very unusual apprentice, my love."

THE END