Master Apprentice Archive Loopholes #1 - Footrub Quick search:

Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... emila_wan@yahoo.com

Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm

Category: PWP, H/C, Angst

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None.

Summary: In this AU the Jedi Order has a strict Code governing sexual conduct, but Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan find a few loopholes they can exploit.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

Warnings: A bit of blood at the beginning. M/m sex in case you stumbled onto this list from another planet.

Series: I'm planning a series called Loopholes, with new fic to follow sporadically.

Note: I started thinking about how the boys would handle it if their Jedi Code paralleled our Real Life code of sexual conduct as expressed in conservative Judeo-Christian terms -- no sex outside of marriage, etc. I find forbidden fruit a terrific turn-on ... hope you do, too.

Obi-Wan groaned as he fumbled with his blood-soaked boot, trying to ease the ruined leather off and away from the wound in his foot. Qui-Gon grimaced in sympathy, then turned back to the task of stowing their gear for imminent departure. "I'll help you with that in a minute, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "Right now, get strapped in." He obeyed his own instructions, plopping down in the acceleration couch and pulling the straps around him just as he felt the jolt of docking clamps being blown for emergency takeoff. The pilot blasted out of the hangar and spun crazily, throwing the Jedi hard against their straps as the inertial compensators could not keep up with the G forces generated by evasive maneuvers. Qui-Gon was grateful he'd had enough time to secure their gear -- he tried not to think about what it would do to his skull if one of those heavy field packs got loose and flew about the cabin.

Obi-Wan hung on, eyes closed tightly, face white. The sound of the engines redlining and the ping of blaster fire against their shields filled the air. Ordinarily the Jedi would have been in the cockpit, helping any way they could, but Obi-Wan had taken a projectile shot to the foot during the battle to get back to the ship. He'd made it up the ramp on pure adrenaline, then collapsed. Qui-Gon had been forced to half carry, half drag him and their gear to the cabin as the pilot initiated the emergency takeoff sequence.

After a few moments, the whine of the engine hitched, then stopped. A sudden jolt and a brief wave of nauseating dizzyness told Qui-Gon they'd entered hyperspace. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and released the straps.

He turned to Obi-Wan. The young man was still clutching the arms of his chair, eyes squeezed shut. His breath was coming in shallow pants, and his color, if anything, was paler than before.

Qui-Gon found his medkit and knelt. He placed a calming hand on Obi-Wan's knee. "Breathe," he said softly.

Obi-Wan nodded, hitching in a deep breath, then blowing it out explosively as Qui-Gon began to cut away the ruined boot. He breathed in and out, in and out, chanting softly a mantra to dissipate pain into the Force.

"You did well, Padawan," Qui-Gon said conversationally as he peeled away the blood-soaked stocking.

"Better if I'd not let myself get shot," the young man said through gritted teeth. He let out a hot burst of profanity as Qui-Gon probed the wound with sterile tweezers. As the probe went deeper, Obi-Wan threw his head back against the headrest and gulped air greedily.

Qui-Gon held the projectile up to the light. "A bullet -- some sort of plasteel alloy, it looks like. I knew these people were primitives, but I had no idea they still relied on such ancient weaponry." He packed the wound with bacta jelly and pressed a synthflesh bandage over it.

"Seemed pretty effective to me," Obi-Wan ground out. He opened his eyes for the first time since they'd entered the ship and gave his master a wan grin. "Thanks for taking care of me yet again."

"You're welcome, Padawan. Don't berate yourself; if I'm not mistaken, those guns were firing about twenty or thirty rounds per second. We were -both- lucky we got past them."

"As you say, Master." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let his head fall back again with a moan.

Qui-Gon gave him a shot of painkiller, then removed Obi-Wan's other boot and stocking as he talked. "I don't understand what went wrong. Our intelligence suggested the rebels might try to disrupt the peace talks, but how could they have known the secret location? There must have been a spy ..." Obi-Wan moaned again, softly, and Qui-Gon looked up. The young man's color had not returned. "You're looking a bit shocky," he said, and stood up. "Let's get you into bed." He bent and slid his arms beneath knees and armpits, then lifted his apprentice easily. Obi-Wan tried feebly to help, but Qui-Gon shushed him. He carried the young man across the corridor and laid him in a bunk. Obi-Wan sighed as he sank into the cool, soft bedding. Qui-Gon removed Obi-Wan's belt and tunics. He loosened the young man's leggings as well. Finally, he covered Obi-Wan with a blanket and tucked it under his chin.

"Love you, Master," Obi-Wan murmured sleepily.

Qui-Gon smiled and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. The adrenaline of battle had worn off, and he realized he was bone tired as well. He kicked off his boots, stripped down to his leggings, and sat on the bunk, lifting Obi-Wan's feet into his lap to keep them elevated. He called a pillow into his hand, then tucked it between his neck and the bulkhead. He rested his hands possessively on his padawan's feet, waves of love and healing pouring from him even as he let himself drift off into a light doze.

Qui-Gon woke to find Obi-Wan looking at him with bright eyes. He smiled, and got a slow grin in return. "Let's take a look at that foot," Qui-Gon said. He smoothed the blanket away, then examined the wound, pressing his thumb hard against the still-pink synthflesh. "Any pain?"

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered closed. "Mmm. No, but that feels good." His cultured voice was still slurred with sleep and the effects of the painkiller.

"Does it?" Qui-Gon's mouth twitched, and he took the foot in both hands. He rubbed his thumbs firmly along the arch. Bemused affection for the young man bubbled through him.

Obi-Wan groaned. "I'll give you two hours to stop that," he said huskily.

"As you wish, Padawan." Qui-Gon kneaded the foot in his hands with sure strokes, massaging the pressure points at the pads of the toes, the ball of the foot, the arch, the heel. There was a sensual rhythm to it, and Qui-Gon had to tamp down a momentary surge of arousal. He'd learned there was little but pain to be had from letting himself think along those lines. Instead, he surrendered himself to the Moment. He worked steadily, first one foot, then the other, alternating as he strove to ease the tensions of Obi-Wan's body with his touch.

But the tension, rather than dissipating, seemed to increase. Obi-Wan's Force sense grew attenuated, throbbing with energy. Qui-Gon sent him a gentle probe and met taut shields. He looked at Obi-Wan's face. The young man had closed his eyes and tucked his hands under his head. But rather than being relaxed, his face was full of tension, even anguish. His lower lip was clamped in his teeth, as if he were trying to keep a cry of pain from escaping. Alarmed, Qui-Gon took his hands from Obi-Wan's feet and shifted. When he did so, the blanket tumbled off the bunk.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. He clutched frantically at the blanket but missed. It drifted to the floor in a crumpled heap.

The moment stretched into clarity as though time had been dilated. Qui-Gon _saw_ Obi-Wan, saw the hooded eyes, the swollen lips, the peaked nipples, the taut abdomen, the slender hips and powerful thighs, the fine dusting of hair that ran from the chest in a line to the top of his leggings, the thick, generous sex, fully erect, outlined beneath the cloth. What Qui-Gon had taken for anguish was desire, primal and very, very arousing.

Obi-Wan was staring at him, wide-eyed. The young man lurched upward, trying to swing his feet to the floor, trying to flee. Qui-Gon anticipated him and clamped down on his feet, holding him firmly in place. "It's all right," he said in a hoarse whisper. Obi-Wan's feet were pressed hard into his groin. He felt the surge of arousal again, much stronger this time, and fiercely tried to beat it back to no avail. He shifted his grip so his padawan would not feel the telltale pulses as his shaft began to fill.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, almost panting with a fight-or-flight reaction. He reached out and called the blanket into his hand, then covered his groin with it, the whole time avoiding Qui-Gon's gaze.

"Obi-Wan, look at me." Force, but the young man was beautiful in his arousal. Qui-Gon fought to keep his breathing steady even as he felt his penis throb to greater hardness with each beat of his heart.

Obi-Wan propped himself on his elbows and forced his eyes up to meet his master's. Qui-Gon saw fear, shame, and the beginnings of tears forming there. He sighed. "Obi-Wan, I beg you, never be ashamed of your feelings."

"But ... the Code ..."

"The Code is a list of rules governing behavior. It does not purport to govern our hearts."

Obi-Wan's brow crinkled. "But what I want ..." He closed his eyes, and a tear slid down his cheek. "I don't want you to lose respect for me," he whispered. He had begun to tremble.

"Padawan!" Qui-Gon waited until the young man met his gaze. "I am _not_ offended. Truly I am not."

He could see Obi-Wan struggle to believe him. The young man's body shuddered with the tension he was under. Next to him, Qui-Gon struggled as well. What would be the greater kindness -- to reveal his own desire to the young man, knowing they could never act on it, or to keep his feelings secret, and let his padawan go on thinking himself to be depraved?

Qui-Gon believed very strongly in honesty. He concealed or distorted the truth only when there seemed no alternative. And he had long ago sworn he would not lie to his apprentice if he could help it. _Force help me do the right thing,_ he thought.

"Obi-Wan," he said softly. "Do you trust me?"

Obi-Wan's brow furled even further."Yes, Master."

"Then lie back. Relax."

Obi-Wan shot him a puzzled glance, then did as he was told. He put his arms behind his head again and visibly forced himself to release his fear and tension into the Force.

Qui-Gon was never more moved by his padawan's trust than at that moment. He forced his hands to relax their tight grip on Obi-Wan's feet, and he began to stroke them again with firm, even pressure. "I am going to reveal something to you. Something that is not to be acted on, only understood. This knowledge may make ... _will_ make our life together more difficult. That is why I have concealed it until now. But I think it is time to have no more secrets between us."

Obi-Wan's eyes had widened, but he said nothing. Now that he knew what to look for, Qui-Gon could see the signs of arousal building again in the young man. He marvelled that the simple touch of his hands could do such a thing. The temptation he would face as he finished the lad's training ... he sighed. "I would have wished, for both of us, that things were different."

"What is it, Master?" Obi-Wan said, now clearly alarmed.

"Obi-Wan ..." Qui-Gon hesitated, then pressed his padawan's feet firmly against his leggings where they were stretched tight over his hardened shaft. "You are not the only one in the Order who has ever had such feelings."

He watched as puzzlement turned to realization and then to hope in his padawan's eyes. "But ... the Code ..." he said again.

Qui-Gon felt suddenly rebellious. Why did a dusty old Code, a bunch of rules made up by Jedi dead for millennia, have have any right to judge this fine, courageous, beautiful young man? "Technically ..." Qui-Gon said, "the Code says nothing about footrubs." To emphasize his point, he stroked Obi-Wan's feet firmly, pressing them against his groin as he did so.

Obi-Wan's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell back on the pillow with a groan.

For a moment Qui-Gon feared his apprentice had fainted. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan groaned again, deeper, and his hips undulated against the blanket.

"Padawan?"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He looked dazed. He licked his lips with unconscious sensuality, and Qui-Gon felt his own sex throb in response. Obi-Wan's foot shifted convulsively against him, and the young man groaned again. "Ohhhh ...."

Obi-Wan's foot was brushing against his erection in small pulses as the young man's hips swiveled beneath the blanket. All thought fled as Qui-Gon's mind went white-hot with need. He tried to stop himself, but his hands and hips seemed to be moving of their own accord.

"Master," Obi-Wan said hoarsely.

"Huhmmmm?"

"Is there anything in the Code preventing ... _this_?" His foot stroked very deliberately and firmly against Qui-Gon's erection.

Qui-Gon searched his frazzled mind, frantically trying to remember the Code and its myriad rules and regulations. The edicts were very clear: sexual relations outside of sanctioned marriage was forbidden, and even sanctioned marriage was discouraged. Marriage between same-sex couples was forbidden. Marriage between species was forbidden. But the definition of "sexual relations" got ridiculously complicated and legalistic. The Code spelled out, in 137 subsections, each act that constituted sex according to the Jedi. Contact of the genitals with genitals ... contact of the genitals with hands ... genitals with mouth ... tentacles ... antennae ... contact of the mouth to breasts with intent to arouse ... breasts to genitals ... pseudopodia to nipples ...

It would have been laughable if Qui-Gon had not been afraid the next few strokes of his padawan's lovely, lovely feet would bring him to a screaming orgasm the likes of which he had never in all his life imagined possible.

"I don't ... _think_ ... the Code ... oh! ... specifically ... mentions ... feet ... ahhh ..."

Obi-Wan had begun stroking his own erection through the blanket. Suddenly he seemed to find that too cumbersome and threw the covering to the floor. With one hand he kneaded and pulled at his swollen sex through the cloth of his leggings; the other arm he threw over his eyes in a gesture at once wanton and anguished. "Oh, Master ... Master ..." he moaned.

Qui-Gon was getting close to the point of no return. Part of him warned that he should stop this now, before it was too late, before the two of them set a precedent that would haunt them forever. But that part was swallowed up by the warmth of his padawan's silky flesh beneath his palms, pressing into him, over him, around him. Qui-Gon longed to be rid of the barrier of cloth that separated him from his padawan. With a groan, he fumbled at his leggings and freed his erection, then shifted sideways and clutched Obi-Wan's feet around his shaft. His hips pumped steadily, desperately, driving his hot, needy column of flesh between the soles of his padawan's feet.

Obi-Wan's groans turned to panting. The young man freed his own erection, stroking firmly from root to tip and back in time to his master's thrusts. His other hand snaked down and pinched a nipple, then dipped lower and clutched at his own balls, rolling them in his fingers. Obi-Wan's eyes were open now, glittering green with lust and love as his gaze brushed over his master's face and then settled on the sight of his master's shaft emerging and withdrawing from the channel made by his feet.

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan's hands, mesmerized, as they stroked up and down, up and down the swollen shaft. At last Obi-Wan froze, then shuddered. White streams pumped into the air as his hips convulsed in climax. That was enough for Qui-Gon, and with a shout he surrendered to his own shattering orgasm. Hot liquid pumped in jagged spurts over his padawan's feet and ankles. After a moment to recover, he bent and pressed his mouth there, licking and kissing his way over every surface of those feet, wetting them with tongue and tears. He crawled up Obi-Wan's body, kissing through the cloth of his leggings. His beard dragged across Obi-Wan's softening erection even as his mouth very deliberately skipped over it. He licked his padawan's chest clean, except for the nipples which he had to avoid perforce. The taste was mild and slightly bitter, and he swallowed it greedily. All the while Obi-Wan gasped and sobbed and buried his fingers in his master's hair, murmuring nonsense. Qui-Gon worked his way further up, licking and nipping and kissing at his padawan's throat, his chin, his cheeks, his ears. He felt his padawan's renewed erection press at his belly at the same time Obi-Wan took his face in his hands and turned his head to kiss him on the mouth.

Qui-Gon withdrew with a gasp and slid off the bunk, falling onto his knees. He sat back and forced his hands to rest on his thighs, limp. His breathing was ragged.

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment, confusion evident on his face. Then he grinned and dove over the edge of the bunk. He tackled his master, ending up on top of him, grinding himself against the older man in a wanton fashion while letting his lips have free rein over throat and face. He tried again to join his mouth to Qui-Gon's, but the master stopped him with a steel grip on his shoulders. "We cannot!" he said urgently.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan demanded, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I've done this much with girls. It's not against the Code."

"Not per se," Qui-Gon admitted. "But it goes to deniability."

"What?" Obi-Wan stared. Qui-Gon released him, and the young man rolled over to his side with his head propped in his hand.

Qui-Gon lay on his back, closed his eyes as if pained. "So far, if we are asked, we can honestly say we have not broken the Code. If we are asked," Qui-Gon's voice grew bitter, "we can honestly say we've never even kissed."

"You sound as if you've been through this before."

"I've seen them demote people, turn them out of the Order, all for less than what we've done today." He opened his eyes, stared at his padawan. "No, I can't let this go on. I won't see your life ruined over something so trivial."

"My feelings for you aren't trivial. If you only knew how much I --"

"Hush!" Qui-Gon roared, and clapped a hand over Obi-Wan's mouth. In a gentler tone he said, "Some things are best left unsaid." He let his hand fall away and rose slowly to his feet.

Obi-Wan clung to him. "Master, I don't care if they throw me out of the Order! I --"

"_I_ care!" Qui-Gon loomed over him. "You listen to me, Padawan. I decided a long time ago that being celibate was a small price to pay to be a Jedi. I still feel that way. _You_ will feel that way, when you stop a moment to think. We were born to this life, we're good at it, it's what we were _meant_ to do. It would be a huge waste to throw that all away for a moment's pleasure."

Obi-Wan's jaw was set defiantly. "Is that all it was to you?"

"Don't play semantics with me, boy." Qui-Gon was apalled at the level of anger in his voice, and he consciously relaxed his stance. "You know what I meant." He extended a hand to help Obi-Wan up. "You know what you mean to me. At least I hope you do."

Obi-Wan took the hand and stood. He seemed to go inside himself for a moment. After a while he looked up and said, "I don't understand why it's so wrong. If it's not natural, why do I feel this way? Why did the Force put us together if we're both ... like we are? Is the Code wrong, or are we?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "I've been asking those questions since before you were born, and I've never found a good answer. All I know is, if I want to be a Jedi, I have to play by the rules."

"Even if the rules are wrong?"

"You can't change them. Believe me, I've seen it tried."

"But ... you go against the Code on occasion."

"Never with such high stakes. Obi-Wan ..." Qui-Gon reached out and pulled his apprentice into a tight embrace. His voice was thick with emotion. "You will be a great Jedi one day. I will do nothing -- _nothing_ -- to jeopardize that."

"So," Obi-Wan said, when Qui-Gon released him, "we pretend nothing happened?"

"We go on," Qui-Gon said softly, and raised a tender hand to stroke Obi-Wan's cheek. He fought back the impulse to take one -- _just one_ -- kiss. He knew he would not be able to stop at one. Best not to tempt himself further. "We live in the Moment. We work, we strive, we love ... all in the confines of the Code we have sworn to obey."

"I understand," his padawan said, and bowed slightly.

Qui-Gon looked around the cabin. "Let's get cleaned up," he said.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan moved to straighten the bedding, and Qui-Gon watched him, feeling a tiny piece of himself die inside. Never again would they share the easy camaraderie they'd had before. Never again would they touch without thinking about what they'd done. Never again would a day go by that he wasn't tempted -- just once more -- to find a loophole in the Code and exploit it.

Suddenly the years stretched before him -- long years of denial and loneliness. _It's a hard life,_ he told himself firmly. _No reward, no regret. You know this._

His padawan turned, meeting his eyes with a rueful look. "Master," he said softly, and placed his hand on the older man's shoulder in a comforting grip. "It's enough just to be with you. More than enough."

Hope flooded Qui-Gon's soul. Perhaps they could find a way to get past this after all. "I'm glad, Padawan." He smiled and placed his hand over Obi-Wan's. "I'm glad."

END - for now