Master Apprentice Archive Not So Vile A Sin Quick search:

Archive: MA, or please ask me

Category: PWP. Pre-slash really, but it's a MMOM fic.

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Obi-Wan is a teenager, but everything is in his mind.

Summary: Obi-Wan tries to practice self-control.

Disclaimer: George's characters, not mine. Feedback: Yes please

Note: Thank you to Laura McEwan who did a super-fast and excellent beta. Any mistakes are mine due to tinkering. This is for Cuimne my master and Bonny my beta - both of whom are having a very trying time just now. //indicates dreaming//

(The title is from Henry V, 2.4: "Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting.")

Obi-Wan rearranged his clothing as he left his room, hoping the flush had faded. Of course, Qui-Gon still would know what he had been doing. Through their bond they were aware of each other's emotional state - a blessing on dangerous missions. For a maturing apprentice safe in the Temple however, the lack of privacy was more often a source of chagrin. His master's repeated reassurances that there was no need for embarrassment gave little comfort. But Obi- Wan found it hard to ignore his body's frequent calls for sexual relief and so resigned himself to being open to his master even in those most intimate moments.

The Master was seated at his desk, back straight, studying a report on the terminal in front of him. He turned to look as Obi-Wan crossed the room, and noted the averted gaze.

As always, the voice was level and without censure. "It's a perfectly normal activity, Padawan. No shame attached to self- pleasuring."

But not normal for his master. Obi-Wan had not once been aware of Qui-Gon in an intense state of arousal. And he was sure that he would have been aware if that stoic, celibate, emotionally passive man ever had to deal with a raging hard-on like Obi-Wan had to every day. Or more often.

"But you don't do it."

Qui-Gon looked at him levelly. "I find time spent in the meditation chambers sufficient release for mind and body."

The Jedi way. Commune with the Force and release any unnecessary energies. Obi-Wan could do that for his sometimes undisciplined emotions: his pride, his anger. Granted, he often had to work hard on the impatience. He told himself that he should be able to do the same for his physical drives too.

Mind made up suddenly, Obi-Wan answered, "Then I won't either."

"There's no need for such a sacrifice. You are still young..."

"I am Jedi." Obi-Wan lifted his head, determined. The only response was a raised eyebrow.

The first days were difficult. After that, it became almost unbearable. Meditation helped, yes, but only for a short time. Obi- Wan was able to curb his raging hormones while he calmed his mind and body, found that quiet centre inside his being and sank into a deep state of self awareness where he could overrule the chemical messages zinging through his bloodstream. This was the state his master was able to maintain constantly, but the padawan slipped out of it and once more into desperation when he met his master outside the meditation chamber.

His tall, handsome, strong master. The master who walked slightly ahead of him, so Obi-Wan could glance at the broad shoulders, the long legged stride under the swinging cloak. Without the cloak, Obi- Wan suddenly thought, he would be able to see the slight sway of hips. Taking the thought further - without tunics, he would be able to see the muscles of shoulders and back, arms... chest. Without leggings...

Qui-Gon turned his head to look back and Obi-Wan dropped his eyes to the marble floor as they continued their walk, unwilling to meet his master's questioning gaze. He felt his cheeks redden and cringed inwardly. I should be able to do this, he thought. If I can't master myself in this, if my self-control is so bad, I am a poor excuse for a Jedi. Squaring his shoulders, he walked on in the wake of the icon of serenity that was his master.

Resolve strengthened, Obi-Wan did do better after that. His self- control was admirable. He silently chanted every mantra he had ever learned when he felt his thoughts begin to drift in that forbidden direction, blocking out daydreams and urges. He took cold showers at all hours of the day and night. He worked himself physically hard so that he only wanted sleep when he finally fell into bed.

He also avoided looking at his master. Though he met the steady blue gaze when he was being lectured or addressed directly, and had to watch the graceful and powerful movements when they were sparring together, at other times the padawan resolutely averted his eyes. No more sly spying through the open fresher door as his master washed; no sideways glances at the seat of the thin sleep pants when said master was preparing for bed. Obi-Wan didn't even allow himself the simple pleasure of watching his master walk through the temple in front of him. Better to avoid temptation completely and study the patterns on the corridor floors as they passed.

After two long tens, Obi-Wan was feeling quite pleased with himself as the days progressed and he hadn't relapsed once. Until the morning he woke with his hand curled around his very erect cock, pumping fast and hard, an image from his dream of his master's hand on him burning into his mind so vividly that nothing could have stopped the hot spurt of semen as his climax shuddered through him, leaving him panting and despairing.

The post-orgasmic glow didn't last. Obi-Wan got out of bed and prepared for the day, the feeling of failure uppermost in his mind.

Accustomed to being totally transparent to his master, Obi-Wan was not surprised at the small smile on the bearded face as they sat together for firstmeal. Obi-Wan's silence indicated that he had no wish to discuss his lapse and they ate without speaking.

Finally, Qui-Gon rose to leave. "There is no need for you to accompany me to the Senate briefing this morning, Padawan. Perhaps you might like to use the time for meditation?" It was said without humour, but Obi-Wan looked up sharply to see if he was being laughed at.

"Thank you, Master. I will do that."

Many of the meditation chambers were occupied but Obi-Wan found a vacant one and removed his robe, settling in position and preparing himself for a long session. The chambers were designed for privacy and to minimise distraction. No outside influences could be felt and the shielded walls effectively prevented untoward "leaks" from the occupier, even if the mental exercises became intense.

Obi-Wan tried first to clear the dejection and guilt from his mind as he contemplated his lapse. The deep cleansing breath seemed suspiciously like a sigh.

I may control myself whilst awake, but how can I control my dreams, he wondered. That particular dream had been incredibly erotic. Of course it hadn't been the first time that his master had featured in such a role, but Obi-Wan had hoped that his recent successes might have persuaded his subconscious into accepting the same sacrifice.

The dream began to replay in his memory. Well, it was as good a starting point for his meditation as any, he supposed.

//The two of them stood calmly in front of a group of people. Important people. The Council? No, they didn't have the feel of Jedi. A generic group of leaders like many they had encountered on their missions. The group appeared to be waiting for something, shuffling and muttering in annoyance.

Qui-Gon leaned close to Obi-Wan and whispered, "It is time." When he began undressing his padawan, Obi-Wan was not at all surprised. It was as if that was the most normal thing to occur. Obi-Wan removed his boots so that Qui-Gon could take the leggings off, and finally he stood completely naked in front of the now quite interested group.

"Do you want to, or shall I?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Please, Master."

Qui-Gon smiled and moved to stand behind his padawan, his arms reaching around, one hand moving over Obi-Wan's chest while the other slid down his belly to grasp his cock firmly. Obi-Wan leaned back against the strong body behind him and closed his eyes, relaxing into the touches as Qui-Gon took most of his weight.//

In the meditation chamber, Obi-Wan opened his eyes in surprise. He was by nature a private person. Not shy; that would be impossible given his life as a Jedi, but not given to exhibitionism. The thought of what his dreaming self was allowing was... arousing. Being watched while his master... did that! And he found he was hard. His hands rested on his thighs, and he rubbed gently against the fabric of his leggings, wanting to touch.

Well, Qui-Gon certainly wouldn't be aware of what he was doing in the chamber. He had already lapsed once that morning, what harm would replaying the scenario do? The part of him which had decided to take the path of abstinence was telling him to stop, think about what he was doing and that he would regret it later. But the healthy hormone-overloaded teenager in him was shrieking with joy at the prospect of release.

He would deal with the guilt and failure later, he decided. He tugged open his leggings and leaned back against the wall, uncrossing his legs. One hand reached to caress his balls while the other rubbed his lower belly, not yet touching his erect cock. The dream memory continued.

//The hand on his chest found a nipple, fingers pinching and tugging gently. The other hand began a slow rhythm, working him to hardness and sweet pleasure, though not enough yet, not fast enough to make him come.//

His own hand mirrored the memory. Eyes closed and slumping down against the wall, Obi-Wan began to feel very warm, sweat beading his forehead and upper lip. He stopped for a moment to pull off his outer tunic and open his undershirt. His leggings were sliding down his hips and he pushed them further, cool air against his thighs. He thought briefly of taking off his boots so he could remove the leggings completely but desperation to finish the delicious scene in his head won out.

//Qui-Gon at last left the nipple alone, sliding the hand around and down his lower back to his buttocks, gripping and kneading. The people had edged a little closer and Obi-Wan felt their excitement. Qui-Gon's head leaned forward to rest on Obi-Wan's shoulder, and he began to kiss the soft skin of his neck, sucking and nibbling, pulling the skin into his and mouth and tenderly bruising it. Fingers of the hand behind slid between his buttocks, probing gently, touching and then pushing in.//

Obi-Wan reached down to touch his opening, his other hand pumping faster. This was unlike any other masturbation session he had indulged in: in the past he had brought himself to climax quickly and efficiently, seeing little need for a long build-up.

//His hips began rocking in time with the hand that worked him, faster, forward into that large hand that almost completely covered his erection and back against a thick finger which pushed further into him with every movement. He reached around to grip Qui-Gon's clothes, to give himself something to hang onto as the sensations overtook him. Every outward breath became a plea, a "please", a "yes", a "master".//

"Yes, oh yes, oh Force yes, Master, aahh..." There was no need to remain quiet in the chamber. His shouts became louder and Obi-Wan learnt of the added pleasure that noisy sex afforded. As the scene in his mind played out to the point where he had awakened on the brink of orgasm, he completed the dream with the vision of himself coming hard, semen arcing away from the two entwined bodies, viewers open mouthed and panting, and his real orgasm pulsed outwards in waves of shuddering pleasure.

He continued stroking himself for a while after, hips jerking a little as the last ripples shook him. Gradually, his pulse and breathing returned to normal. He was a mess. He had ejaculated over his chest but also across his discarded tunic and along the floor. His body was coated with sweat. He closed his eyes and felt the tug of sleep, but at last resisted and pulled himself to a sitting position, ruefully looking round the chamber.

No, his master couldn't have known what he was doing in here, but it was going to be difficult to leave in a decent condition without some suspicion. And the chamber smelled strongly of sex and teenage sweat. Obi-Wan hoped the air recyclers would have removed those odours before the next occupant arrived. Surprisingly, the expected guilt for his lapse in control didn't materialise.

He rearranged his leggings, grabbed his discarded tunic and scrubbed at the mess on the floor. He scrunched the soiled item into a ball and pushed it under his arm before pulling on his robe. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, straightened himself to his full height, and opened the door.

Qui-Gon was waiting for him outside. Obi-Wan's step faltered. "Briefing finished early, Master?" He was surprised at the evenness of his voice.

The master nodded and they began their usual walk down the corridors, padawan behind master. "I take it you have discovered the main use of the meditation chambers, Padawan."