Jedi Choice

by Haleth Haladin

Title: Jedi Choice
Author: Haleth Haladin
Fandom/Pairing: Star Wars, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Rating: NC-17 kink
Disclaimer: Please, I beg of you, never let George Lucas know I did this. I live in terror of a horde of ill-behaved storm troopers showing up on my doorstep demanding that honour be satisfied.
Summary: I have a lot of fun writing about kinky Jedi, but I knew it had to start somewhere. (Goes with Jedi Boots, Jedi Robes, Jedi Utility Belt, Padawan Braid)

The master looks up from his datapad as his padawan approaches. The padawan's face bears a serene expression, as it has been trained to do, but his fingers twitch, belying his calm. He kneels gracefully, nonetheless.

"Master, as you know, I am of age and now permitted to choose any sexual partner I desire without restriction."

This is true. Until last week. Obi-Wan was permitted to dally only with those of his age group. He may now have his pick of any padawan, knight or even master he desires, and any he would choose would be insane to deny him.

"Yes, Padawan. You may have whoever you wish." The master regrets the coming of this day. Obi-Wan has brought much comfort to his troubled mind. He has never enjoyed his hours, on or off duty, as much as he has in the company of this bright light. He will miss the constant warmth of his padawan's presence, for Obi-wan will surely dedicate all his free time to that lucky person. "Have you made a choice?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you seek my approval? It is not required, you know."

Obi-Wan lifts his eyes. "Yes, it is, Master, for I choose you."

This is an unexpected turn of events. Master Qui-Gon Jinn is a man of very particular tastes, so particular that he has rarely ever considered sharing them with acquaintances or friends, and certainly not with his own padawan.

"Obi-Wan, do you know that I am somewhat... unique in that realm?" he asks evenly.

Obi-Wan nods solemnly. "I have heard rumours to that effect, Master."

"Really? And what do these rumours say?"

"That you are a master in all aspects of life, that you do not practice your mastery lightly, and rarely within the ranks of the Jedi."

"That is more accurate than most rumours," the master says.

"Actually, I heard several rumours, and I did some research of my own, and then I pieced it all together," Obi-Wan admits.

"I see. You have always excelled in the art of research." Qui-Gon places his datapad on the table beside the couch and checks that his tunic is sufficiently shielding his physical response to the offer of the man kneeling before him. The reaction is something that cannot be helped; that does not mean it needs to be shared. "And in the course of your research, did it occur to you that I might not wish to master one who is already my ward?" Qui-Gon controls much of Obi-Wan's life as it is. To take sexual control could render them both fatally dependent. It might also render training in public an impossibility.

"I have debated the issue in my mind for a long time, Master. I have reached the conclusion that the dangers of dependence and exclusivity are far outweighed by the potential benefits."

Obi-Wan also excels at diplomacy, but Qui-Gon has been playing games with words and ideas far longer. He knows negotiation intimately. "What could the benefits be for you? I am much older than you, Obi-Wan. I am a demanding master, in and out of the bedroom. Do you not think you have enough of my teaching and orders already?"

The padawan's eyes shine with dangerous emotion. "No, master. I could never have too much of you. But if you find me lacking, I will understand."

Qui-Gon sees that lessons in humility have been surprisingly well-learned. He has never seen this sort of self-abasement on the training floor. Obi-Wan is far from a braggart, but he usually is more confident of his worth.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. "I am young and inexperienced. I am small in stature, especially compared to you, and not beautiful, but I am dedicated, Master. I know I could make up for my shortcomings."

That is more like the padawan Qui-Gon has been training all these years. Determined. Headstrong. And with the most exquisite lips a Jedi master could hope to find in a padawan. "I know your dedication and willingness to learn, Obi-Wan. However, you are mistaken about the rest of it." He touches the boy's cheek. He will address these misconceptions one at a time. "Yes, you are young. You are fresh and untainted, and I do fear spoiling that freshness, but since you will take a lover whether that lover is me or not, I would prefer that it be me. I would cherish your youth and guard your purity." In his own way, he would. He would not use Obi-Wan or cheapen him, although many looking upon them might think it otherwise.

"Experience is not required," Qui-Gon continues. "In fact, it can be detrimental to the training process." The thought of being the first to train Obi-Wan is heady. "And you should not worry about size and height. You are not as tall as I am, but I have no desire to bed my double. You are strong and lithe and have proven yourself to be a formidable opponent and partner alike." And Qui-Gon can imagine how well Obi-Wan would fit in his arms.

That leaves the beauty question. "Obi-Wan, I will not needlessly flatter you by saying you are an exotic beauty. You are not a wispy delicate lad who invites lecherous gazes, nor willowy like those boys we saw in the pleasure district last month when we were on Chur-well. Obi-Wan, do not deny it; I saw you studying their gestures and you even touched the corner of your eye when one walked by wearing exceptionally flamboyant kohl. Were you wondering what you might look like done up like that, decorated like a useless peacock? Did you think I might have some use for that?

"No, Obi-Wan, you are not one of those pretty boys. You are too strong for that. You are sturdy, with a proud line to your jaw and a stubborn chin. Look at me."

The eyes are the most beautiful feature, after those exquisite lips.

"Your beauty leaves me breathless," the master manages to say.

Obi-Wan blinks and looks very young indeed.

"Have you ever been mastered before, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan nods. "Yes, Master. Not entirely, but I have submitted. To a degree."

So he is not entirely unsullied. That is comforting, in a way.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy the submission itself, or were you merely aroused by the sex?"

Obi-Wan blinks again, this time in confusion. "I do not know, Master. I only know that the thought of being mastered by you excites me beyond belief."

That is a promising answer, but nothing is foolproof. "Reality does not often live up to the dream, padawan."

"I know it would with you, Master," Obi-Wan says with conviction.

It is more difficult for Master Jinn to negotiate when the urge to simply take is growing so strong. "I thank you for that appraisal," he says, smooth and in control as a master should be. "I should warn you, though. I am a demanding master."

"So you have said, Master."

"I would expect total obedience, and I cannot promise that I would treat the sexual aspect of the relationship as an entirely separate entity. It would never be allowed to interfere with duty, but your free time would be mine. I will not consider this seriously unless you are willing to commit to it fully. One hundred percent."

Obi-Wan swallows and nods. "I wish to serve you in all ways, Master. And I know that it would make be a better Jedi. Stronger, and more humble, and more dutiful."

There is no doubt in Qui-Gon Jinn's mind that this is true, but he finds himself reluctant still. There is something that does not fit perfectly in this equation. Obi-Wan does not understand all that he offers. "I am a jealous master, Obi-Wan. If I were to claim you, you would taste of no other, touch no other, and be touched by no other for as long as you were mine. I am possessive, and I do not share my possessions. I tell you this because I am not convinced you understand what you ask of me or of yourself."

"I understand."

"I am physically demanding as well."

"I have experienced that in training, Master, and would expect no less."

"And I demand total honesty."

"Yes, Master."

"Have you ever been fucked?"

"Fucked? You mean, in my... up my ass?"

So sweet. He has not. "Have you ever had anything inside you at all? Even a finger?"

"The top... when I went to the club... he used a dildo on me. It was rather slender, I would think, compared to you."

Had Qui-Gon heard the words "top" and "the club" in the same sentence? "What top? What club?"

"Last week, the night after my birthday. I went to this place in the lower levels."

"What?"

"It came highly recommended. I knew it was safe; I checked it out first. There are no weapons, and strict rules about privacy. The names of the clients are coded, so no one would ever know I went."

"How could you risk going to a place like that? Are you mad?"

"No, Master. Only desperate. I needed to know I would really like it before I could approach you. And I liked it, Master. I really did. And now I want more. I crave more."

Good Force. Qui-Gon had never and would never sent his padawan into such a dangerous place, not even in the middle of a pitched battle. What if someone had taken a fancy to him? What is this 'top' had been more than a top and had actually been sadistic? So many bad things could have happened!

"You will never go there again," Qui-Gon roared.

"I will not need to if you accept me."

"And what if I do not accept you?"

Obi-Wan lifted his chin defiantly. "I'll go back."

That had to be avoided at all costs. Qui-Gon could not risk Obi-Wan being hurt. Or caught in the middle of a raid. Such places were raided, and with some regularity. It could harm his chance of success in the Order. And what if a sadist did take Obi-Wan for the night? A million bad things could happen.

"I disapprove of such places."

"But you have used their services, have you not?"

That was true. At times, Qui-Gon had gone to the odd sex club to fulfill his unique needs. Obi-Wan had either done his research very well or was bluffing. That did not make it safe or right for Obi-Wan. "Could you not have sought this from one of the other padawans?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I could never reveal that desire to another padawan. He would surely assume I was training to present myself to you and then everyone would know. If you turned me down... I couldn't bear that, Master. Everyone knowing you rejected me. As it is, I think all the other padawans think I'm too na?ve to even know about you and your tastes."

"Hmmm. I see. You make a good point. Well, there is nothing I can do about it now, and no damage was done. There was no damage done, was there?"

"No, Master. The top was experienced, and I specifically requested he not be sadistic. I do not think I am interested in gratuitous pain, although I do not fear pain and think I might like it from you. I asked for something more along the lines of..."

Qui-Gon Jinn is holding his breath.

"...submission."

"And you enjoyed it," Qui-Gon says, still not letting all the breath out.

"Yes, when I imagined he was you."

The breath suddenly disappears and Qui-Gon finds himself unable to draw in any more for a few seconds. He recovers in moments. "What," he asks, clearing his throat, "what did he do to you?"

"Only what I asked of him. He tied me to the bed and played with me for a while. He put a cock ring on me and fucked me with the dildo. And then he..."

"Go on."

"He jerked off onto my chest."

Qui-Gon is sure his tunic is no longer hiding his physical reaction. He tries to imagine Obi-Wan tied naked on a bed with come on his chest and finds his mind is blocking his imagination. He has not seen very much of Obi-Wan naked for several years. Jedi tend to dress modestly, and padawans have a separate communal shower. He has seen only individual, injured parts and perhaps the chest a few times. It is a beautiful chest, that he knows. Strong and smooth with only a sprinkling of the hair that is sure to grow thicker as Obi-Wan matures and grows into full manhood. This stage he is at now will last until he is in his mid-twenties, mature but not yet fully free of boyhood.

So very tempting.

"Well, that's fairly adventurous for such a young, inexperienced first-timer, I suppose," Qui-Gon says in an attempt to hide his desire.

Obi-Wan looks down, blushing. "Not very inventive, I know, Master."

Master Jinn is immensely pleased by this. Obi-Wan wishes to please him so much. So well. So beautifully.

"I am willing to learn from you, Master, if you would teach me."

"Then remove all your clothing," Qui-Gon orders.

Obi-Wan leaps to his feet and sheds his attire. As each article is removed, hastily folded and piled on a chair, the master feels his desire grow. The folding is not neat, but it is a good sign of attentiveness to duty. As, as he knew it would be, the body revealed to him bit by bit is exquisitely shaped - strong and lithe and indeed formidable.

When he is naked, Obi-Wan kneels once more before his master with his head bowed.

"Did you not negotiate limits and terms when you were mastered at the club?" Qui-Gon asks.

"Yes, Master. Every aspect of the encounter was prearranged for maximum safety and pleasure."

"Yet you shed your clothes without even determining so much as a safe word with me!"

"I trust you, Master."

Qui-Gon is touched, and aroused to the point of breaking, but his first duty is to teach. "That is a rash attitude, padawan. You will be a fine Jedi one day, but not if you lay yourself open to such risk as a habit."

"You would never allow harm to befall me."

"What if I did wish to harm you?"

"You might wish to cause me pain, but pain is not harm as long as it is tended properly. I have trusted you with my life before. There is no reason to fear you."

"But, you cannot know that for certain, and you have not told me what your limits are." Qui-Gon is struck by a sudden fear that he would make the wrong choice and ruin this priceless gift forever.

Obi-Wan looks up so he will not be misunderstood. "This is not a scene, Master. Not a one-night stand with a stranger. You are my master, and the finest master I could ever hope for. I place myself, my body, and my pleasure at your disposal."

"You trust me with more than just your life if that is true."

"I am all yours, Master."

But the master cannot take unless he is willing to give as well, and to his padawan of all people. He has honestly never thought of Obi-Wan in this way before this evening. He has noticed him - one would have to be blind and impotent not to notice Obi-Wan - but to take his padawan in the manner in which he prefers to take seems indecently exciting. Too exciting. It has been a long time since Qui-Gon has exercised his will. He is not concerned about his skills, but his control might be a tad rusty. He has not found a suitable partner in years. Not since...

Not since he took Obi-Wan as his padawan learner.

That is a coincidence, or perhaps not a coincidence, that bears further consideration.

"We must both sleep on this," Qui-Gon says abruptly.

Obi-Wan bows his head again. "I understand, Master." His voice carries a note of dejection Qui-Gon cannot bear.

"This is not a rejection, Padawan."

"Of course not, Master. It is sober reflection."

"I need time to examine the possible repercussions. That is all." He allows some of his emotion to colour his voice and leak out into the charged atmosphere.

Obi-Wan takes heart and tilts his head slyly. "Are you sure you do not wish to sample the goods, Master?"

Qui-Gon can hear Obi-Wan's smile. Cheeky padawan. And resilient. "I am sampling you already, Padawan. I am looking at your body, which I have seen before but never has it been so desirable. I sample your humility as you kneel before me naked and unprotected. And I will sample your obedience. So go, now. Off to bed and examine all that you offer me."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan rises obediently. He makes sure to give his master and eyeful of the goods before turning and walking with a truly delightful swagger, which Qui-Gon examines carefully.

He stares at his padawan's closed door for a long time. It seems impossible that Obi-Wan understands the magnitude of his offer - as impossible it is for Qui-Gon to overestimate his desire to accept.

The Council will be furious. They know of his predilections, and some do not approve. It would be within his rights to take Obi-Wan, but they would not have to like it. Their actions would be scrutinized. Qui-Gon would have to keep his sexual mastery separate from his other duties. No fucking in the training rooms.

This has been his first overt thought of sex. Until now he has only imagined Obi-Wan's submission. There was the image of him on the bed, it's true, but it was another's semen spilled across Obi-Wan's chest, and that image failed to develop fully in Qui-Gon's mind. Now Qui-Gon imagines Obi-Wan on a bed with Qui-Gon's seed on his chest. That he can imagine, especially now that he has seen all of Obi-Wan's body naked. Naked for him. Offered to him.

He lets his mind wander to the possible future. That agile body bent to his will. Those lips doing his bidding. Those eyes flashing desire as his padawan struggles to obey, to contain his lust until he is given permission to let it go. That cock - so hard and proud and beautiful - at Qui-Gon's command.

There will be complications. Trouble from the council. The delicate balance of duty and desire. He will have to give as much as he takes -Obi-Wan's nature demands it - and he is not used to such openness. It would not be a game at all, but a permanent and omnipresent condition.

Those drawbacks and dangers are, as Obi-Wan said, far outweighed by the positives.

Obi-Wan is positively delectable.

One deep breath and Qui-Gon can smell his padawan's lingering arousal, taste it, almost feel it. Qui-Gon forces himself to stand and walk to his own room. As he removes his clothes, his hands brush over his erection. Sparks fly into the air.

There is no need for an entire night of deliberation. Qui-Gon's mind is made up. He can only hope Obi-Wan has not had second thoughts.

Qui-Gon stalks soundlessly to Obi-Wan's door. He slides it open manually, slowly, quietly. His padawan lies in the middle of his bed, uncovered and still, hands clenched at his sides. His erection is prominent. Still. He has not touched it. Obi-Wan's lips move silently, and Qui-Gon recognizes the words of an ancient meditation on patience.

As a master, he should know better than to spy like this. He should be in his room meditating on all the changes this would bring. He should be worried about how this could damage their effectiveness as a team, in battle and in negotiation. How it would effect their training bond. Their relationship. Obi-Wan's future, as a man and as a Jedi. He should be thinking of all those things., but all he can think about is putting his hand on that cock and never letting go.

For that reason alone he should return to his room; he has lost the ability to make a rational decision.

"Master."

The word is barely spoken, simply breathed out, and Obi-Wan slides off the bed to kneel once more at his master's feet. "I know I must seem young and foolish, Master, and I know I have never truly done this before, and I know of all the dangers. But I also know what I want."

And there is the crux of the matter.

"That is the point, Padawan. This is not about what you want. It is about what I want. It will always be about what I want. If you cannot understand that, then we should forget this ever happened."

Obi-Wan is eye level with Qui-Gon's erection. He licks his lips. "I do understand, Master. I want to serve you. That is all. I will serve you without thought of my own needs. If I have to, I'll keep this same erection for a week."

Tempting.

"That won't be necessary," Qui-Gon says, and he reaches down to stroke his own cock. "You see, one of the ways I will expect you to serve me is to give up your control and show me everything when you come."

Obi-Wan nods eagerly and licks his lips again.

"Total honesty. You will be more naked than you have ever been in your life. But I can't concentrate on that until you've taken care of this." Qui-Gon tilts his hips and brings his cock closer to Obi-Wan's mouth. "Suck me."

Obi-Wan is good. Not perfect. He has a little trouble with the size. He has not yet mastered the art of deepthroating. He needs to relax his jaw and keep his teeth in better control. But those are minor complains, barely noticeable, compared to the sheer perversity of feeding his cock to his prim and proper padawan. Such a filthy image. Qui-Gon would take a hologram of it if the recording device were not in the other room.

His cock pops out of Obi-Wan's mouth and leaves a trail of saliva across Obi-Wan's smooth cheek.

"I'm sorry, Master."

Qui-Gon wraps his fingers in Obi-Wan's braid and tugs him up to his feet. "Nothing to be sorry for, Padawan. You have not yet been trained. You will learn to suck my cock using a variety of techniques, now that I know how much potential you have."

"Potential, Master?"

Serious potential. "I will make you the perfect padawan."

"I thought you were already doing that, Master."

Qui-Gon puts his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. "You really have no idea what you propose, but I will accept your offer because... because I can tell that the more you learn, the more you will like it."

How can he tell such a thing?

Because Obi-Wan has not touched himself. Not once. Not even inadvertently. And Qui-Gon knows he will not until he is told to do so. And if he is not told to do so, he really will carry that erection for a week, and get the worst case of Fraxillian Testes in the galaxy. That kind of dedication is rare.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looks both relieved and disappointed.

"Not tonight. We will have to work up to that."

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master."

"I will fuck you, though. I can promise you that."

Obi-Wan's smile holds enough joy to tempt Qui-Gon into reneging on the 'no fucking tonight' promise.

"For now, I want you to suck my cock some more."

Obi-Wan sinks back to his knees and Qui-Gon reaches his limit of restraint.

His padawan is too willing, too beautiful to resist. Qui-Gon will not be careful. His padawan will choke a little. Obi-Wan's eyes will water when his throat is battered by an insistent cock. He will obey instantly when he is told to grab his own cock, and he will tilt his head back with the utmost dignity when he is told to do so.

"I believe my padawan likes it when his master comes on him," Qui-Gon will plan to say when he is ready to spill onto that young, eager face. But the intensity of the moment will steal his voice and all that will come out is a rumbling moan.

Even Jedi masters can be overwhelmed by the moment.

But not overwhelmed enough to forget to tell his padawan to come. And not overwhelmed enough to neglect to clean his padawan carefully in the shower. To explore the body that now belongs to him with soapy hands and fingers, to slide over that taut belly and delve into his padawan's sweet mouth with his tongue and slide a finger inside that tight ass, the first steps in a journey that will last a lifetime.

And he will not forget to hold his padawan in his arms and discover that he does indeed fit there perfectly, to kiss the ruffled hair at the top of Obi-Wan's head and tell him that he, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, is honoured to accept his generous offer, and to assure Obi-Wan that he will do everything in his power to make sure neither of them ever regrets their choice.

End