Master Apprentice Archive Hilary Quick search:

Rating: NC-17

Archive: M-A, ask me, or Master Jacynthe's: http://jdemorae.slashcity.tv/lightsaberissues/index.html

Series: no

Categories: Q/O, PWP, first-time

Feedback: Dying for it, please. padawanhilary@gonwan.com

Summary: response to "Coming Out" and "Erection?" challenges

Spoilers/Warnings: There's nothing, unless you have a condom squick. Not even chan, which might be inferred from Obi-Wan's use of "Boys and girls." Trust me, the padawan is of age.

Disclaimers: Someday I intend to use my own beloved, beautiful characters to write for fame, fortune and glory. Today is not that day.

Master Ruth's Coming Out Day (Oct 11) Challenge criteria: At least 2 of these characters: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Bruck, Bail, Mace, Xanatos, or an OMC. At least 1 of the following elements: an intolerant culture, Council, friend, parent, or working partner. At least 3 of the following items (Ok, I only got two): lube, comdoms, dental dams, dildos, cock rings, leather clothes, other sex toys, any BDSM toys, a porn vid. Sex in one of the following locations: a balcony, a roof, a kitchen, an office, a shower. No length restrictions. :-)

The Emu's "Got an erection?" challenge criteria: Qui-Gon saying "Do you have an erection, Obi-Wan?" *or* Obi-Wan saying "Do you have an erection, Qui-Gon?" The trick: They may not be lovers, or have any acknowledged feelings of lust or love for each other before this moment.

One little bit inspired by the caption contest on starwars.com. Unbeta'd. Parts of this look similar to Master Ruth's "Dialog on a small bed" but I promise that's unintentional. Also, the "Glee" line came from a TMI discussion.

/..../ thoughts and bond speak, *..* emphasis

"Do you have an *erection,* Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan winced in hot embarrassment. "Yes, Master," he sighed, turning his face away. He was taking evening meditation on the balcony with his master: the least he could do was be properly humiliated about fantasizing himself into a raging hard-on.

Qui-Gon chuckled and lowered himself to his heels, shifting his knees. "Do I even want to know the bent of your meditations?" he asked, looking at his apprentice sidelong.

Obi-Wan ducked his head and snorted, saying nothing. /No, you probably don't want to know that you command center stage in a veritable databank of fantasies I rifle through almost daily./

"Hm." Qui-Gon kept his face inscrutable as Obi-Wan looked at him furtively. The padawan was torn between spilling it all -- how long had he been holding in his feelings for his master?-- and gritting his teeth against the words yet again.

Resolving himself, he sucked in a breath and looked meaningfully at Qui-Gon, who met his gaze with the same calm, unreadable expression he bore most of the time. Obi-Wan was unsure how to proceed. His master was a quiet, discreet, intelligent man who knew his boundaries and those of the Order. Well: unless he was stirring poodoo with the Council, and then all bets were off.

Obi-Wan decided they would both agree that all bets were off when he needed to masturbate to recover from evening meditation. Qui-Gon looked at him, waiting. Obi-Wan's erection throbbed at him, waiting too.

"The thing is, Master, it's been difficult to find my focus lately," Obi-Wan explained a little frantically, finding a track and hoping he could stay on it long enough to get the words out. He licked his lips and pressed on before Qui-Gon could question him. "I've been very distracted, increasingly so, for a while now."

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose removing yourself from the distraction is out of the question?"

Obi-Wan laughed, and it came out a little squeaky. "Yes, Master."

"And this is the reason for your." he trailed off, waving a hand in the direction of Obi-Wan's still-too-snug pants. He smiled sympathetically.

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon looked out over the balcony, still kneeling, wondering about the lucky girl. He'd had his own focal difficulties lately, and not a one of them centered around a woman. He certainly wasn't about to admit that to his padawan, though, on the cusp of what appeared to be an admission of love for someone very important to him. "I hope she's not going to affect your focus enough to impact your training. What's her name?" he asked, trying to sound airy but failing.

Obi-Wan's face burned like a torch. "Qui-Gon Jinn," he laughed. "Only he doesn't make a very good 'she.'" He laughed again, beyond trying to mask his acute embarrassment. He wondered what his master was thinking about *now.* Obi-Wan had never really had any preference one way or the other, but he certainly wasn't above hiding his liaisons with the few men he'd been with. For all its purported social ascensions, the Order wasn't exactly open to same-sex partnerships. Anyway, it had been a long time since either. He'd been gone over his master for well over a year and a half.

He risked a glance at his master, who was *gaping* at him. Qui-Gon was not only amazed at himself that he'd come to the assumption nearly everyone would have made, but he was floating in his shocked happiness that he'd been wrong. He tried to think of something wise to say. The best he could come up with was, "Padawan-- what are you talking about?"

Obi-Wan really wasn't sure how density had managed to get into the job description of a Jedi Master. He looked at his master helplessly and considered his next words. It wasn't as though he were operating under an illusion: he had seen Qui-Gon with Mace Windu on occasion, although he knew their relationship was casual-- and *very* well hidden.

"I'm talking about you. And me. And -- " He swept his hand down over his front in a gesture that looked something like, "You just won a new speeder!" He laughed again and adjusted himself, wondering how he could possibly still be hard through all this. It certainly wasn't the way he'd wanted it to go, but it was all out now, wasn't it?

Qui-Gon knelt up and scooted toward Obi-Wan on his knees. "This is where I give you The Talk," he said quietly, his voice a little rough.

Obi-Wan waved one hand vaguely and said, "Yeah. You're my master, my teacher, and so much older than me, and besides we'd have to keep it hidden, and aren't I sure I wouldn't rather find someone my own age. Right." He licked his lips and stared at his master who was now very, very close.

Qui-Gon nodded, walking forward on his knees some more until he was immediately in front of Obi-Wan, right inside his space. His voice was a low, rumbling whisper now. "And I suppose this is where you ignore The Talk completely and tell me you've already considered all that?"

Obi-Wan nodded, transfixed, and then tore his eyes away, looking down. He grinned suddenly, a huge, beaming grin. "Do you have an *erection,* Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon smiled, bowing his head a little before they were leaning together, gripping each other's heads and kissing madly.

"It was-- when I saw you-- and Master ahhhh--" Obi-Wan's words broke off when Qui-Gon's mouth found his throat, "-- Windu. Mmmm-- jealous," he muttered, hoping Qui-Gon understood, wondering why he was explaining anyway when his master's mouth was trailing over to one earlobe and biting him till he shuddered.

"Mmmm," was Qui-Gon's only response as his mouth latched on to a spot under Obi-Wan's ear. His padawan smelled warm and green and fresh, and the master had waited too long for this to complicate it by talking. He put his tongue and teeth to better use, working on the smooth skin under them. Obi-Wan, however, seemed insistent.

"Are we going to-- umhhh-- here? On the-- ah!" He tipped his head back and clutched at Qui-Gon's shoulders as those teeth found the juncture of shoulder and neck.

"Mmmm." Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan firmly and pulled him close. The erections that had been doing their owners absolutely no good suddenly became useful, shooting bolts of pleasure through them both as they met in a grind of hips.

Obi-Wan moaned loudly and started tugging at his tunics. Qui-Gon followed suit, their mouths barely leaving each other as they yanked clothing off. But then Obi-Wan started manipulating something out of an inner pocket of his pile of tunics, and Qui-Gon, breathing heavily and losing Jedi reserve by the pound finally demanded, "What are you rummaging for?"

Obi-Wan produced a small, silvery package that crinkled a little. He held it up between two fingers and smiled wickedly.

Qui-Gon took it, turning it over. "What is it?"

Obi-Wan took it back and opened it. "It's a condom. Some of the boys put one on if they've been on field duty and they've-- only this one's different, it's got-- do you *really* want me to explain this now?" He pressed the thing, membranous and slick, into Qui-Gon's hand. "Just put it on," Obi-Wan finished, a little flustered.

Trust Obi-Wan to stop speaking when there was information yet to be relayed. Qui-Gon felt the thing. It was actually nice, very soft and wet, and his fingers tingled a little. He assumed there was some kind of topical stimulant on it. "So-- I just.?" he trailed off, looking at Obi-Wan expectantly. Here they were, kneeling on the balcony, naked, erect, lit by the Coruscant sunset, a dream come true for both of them-- and Obi-Wan was giving him alien artifacts to do something sexual with.

"On your--" Obi-Wan waved his hand in that new-speeder gesture again.

Qui-Gon's eyebrows went up. "Put it *where?*"

"Oh!" Obi-Wan muttered something about someone needing real training and took the condom away. He pinched the top of it and set the cup it made against the head of Qui-Gon's penis. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and hitched in a breath at the contact, then groaned as Obi-Wan used quick, firm strokes to apply the thing. When Obi-Wan's deft hands left him, he looked down.

It was a vivid purple, was this condom, and it had this amazing feel to it, like suction only not. The stimulant began to penetrate, and Qui-Gon's eyes went glassy as he fought to control his breathing. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but Obi-Wan got his wicked, gleaming smile back. That was well worth whatever misgivings he might have had. Obi-Wan kissed his master, running his tongue around those lips it had once seemed he'd never get to kiss. Using the Force gratuitously, he produced a tiny tube of lubricant and pressed it into his master's hand.

"Now I know," he said between kisses, "that you know. what to do. with *that.*"

It had been several days since that glorious evening. They lay in bed together now, puddles in the afterglow.

It felt, sometimes, like the double lives the bad holovids were always on about-- proper, serene Jedi by day; hot, hypnotic lovers by night. Obi-Wan taught Qui-Gon about all the toys that he and his friends employed, and Qui-Gon taught Obi-Wan patience, gentleness and delicacy.

Obi-Wan much preferred his master's lessons.

Still, one night as they lay in bed, Obi-Wan was overcome by a lonely ache as it hit him: no one could know about this. No one. It wasn't fair. He'd discovered a long time ago that it didn't matter who he was attracted to, as long as it was mutual and fun. "Boys, girls, they're all the same, aren't they?" he would smile to himself. He'd picked that up somewhere in a holovid and its premise appeared as elusive and fantastic as the setting had been: a sexy, decadent world where you made yourself happy, and no one could ask you to do otherwise. It was peculiar and pretty and completely, totally impossible. Where was that universe? It certainly wasn't here.

It wasn't as though he expected that kind of decadence. They were Jedi. But this unspoken social constrict regarding who he could *be* with? It was wrong. It bothered him that he could rut up any female in the Temple, but it would look *odd* if he and his master dressed up nicely and went to dinner together. He could only *imagine* what the Council would think were they to find out about them.

Qui-Gon stroked his back gently, noticing his melancholy. "I know," he murmured, sighing. "In a perfect galaxy, it wouldn't be an issue."

Obi-Wan snuggled in, grateful for Qui-Gon's warmth but still feeling so, so lonely. Much as he wanted to shout it from the spires of the Temple, he knew that this was more trouble than his master would want to borrow.

Qui-Gon, however, didn't know any such thing.

Obi-Wan stood behind and to the left of his master, feeling the tension rolling off the large body in front of him. He didn't know what was going on, but he found himself bracing for a whole lot of poodoo-stirring.

"My padawan and I have initiated a sexual relationship," Qui-Gon announced without preamble, much to the shock of everyone in the chamber, not least of all Obi-Wan's. "I felt you should be aware of this; it might impact future missions." Pausing for a response, he glanced over his shoulder at his padawan. Obi-Wan was stunned speechless-- for once-- but obviously struggling to control an upsurge of elation. He turned back to the two main Council seats and sent, /Easy, Padawan. Glee probably leads to the Dark Side./

Obi-Wan barked out something that sounded like a cough, brushed his hand over his face, and fell silent. The unreasonable grin, however, would not go away.

Yoda gripped his walking stick, his face pale and outraged. "Unbelievable this is. Separate you we should! Blatant defiance of millennia of tradition this is!"

Qui-Gon was saddened at his master's anger, but pressed on. He turned slowly as he spoke, marking the expressions on each of the Councilors' faces. "Tradition, Master? In the Order, it has been said that a master and padawan may come together at the initiation of the padawan, and if the padawan is of age. Those criteria have been met."

In his slow assessment of some of the Councilors, he was pleased to note that one or two looked relieved, perhaps heartened. It was as though they had longed for this to happen and had been waiting for someone strong enough to make it so.

He went on, "Never has it been said that a same-sex master and padawan team could *not* be together, perhaps even bond, but where is the precedent? Has it happened? Not to the knowledge of the Council, I am sure." The derision in his voice was plain. "We are viewed as the center of the Republic. We sweep in like the Jedi we are to repair other systems' problems. We are powerful and we must see justice done. We preach tolerance, peace, and freedom, and yet for all our diversity, we are the most prudish segment of society in the entire galaxy. No one should be forced to hide true feelings for fear of retribution. The hypocrisy of it is staggering." A shocked murmur went up at his temerity; he ignored it.

He had reached the halfway point in his slow spin, and now his eyes held Obi-Wan's as he spoke, his back to Masters Yoda and Windu. "I love my padawan," he murmured. The words echoed quietly within the glossy confines of the chamber and reverberated joyfully inside Obi-Wan's head and heart. "And there is nothing wrong with that love, whether or not you understand it. If you separate us, you'll have at least one very angry, very lonely Jedi who probably wouldn't do the Order any good for a long, long time."

Obi-Wan swallowed and closed his eyes, calming his heart and trying to ease the almost painful swell of love there. /Oh, my Master./

Qui-Gon turned around and faced Master Yoda again, strengthened by the admiration he now saw in Mace's eyes.

Yoda slitted his eyes. "Threaten us, do you?"

"If you leave us be, we will be happy," Qui-Gon pressed on, ignoring the comment because he was aware that everyone in the room knew better than that. "Obi-Wan's training will not suffer. Neither will our mission record. We're not out to start any revolutions here, I assure you, but neither will we hide." He pinned his gaze into Yoda's. "We only request the tolerance that we are asked to accord to everyone else in the galaxy."

Yoda glared at his former apprentice, his emotions contained tightly within layer upon layer of shielding. Mace turned to him, his expression nothing but bland curiosity.

Yoda, amazingly, dropped his gaze to the floor. "Tolerance," he said quietly, slicing through the palpable silence. "Wisdom, peace, equality. These things do the Jedi embody." He tried to keep his voice hard, but with the warmth of love shining so plainly in his padawan's eyes, how could he? "Meditated on this, you have?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Suffice it to say the open chastisement of the Council is nothing next to hiding this kind of love from daylight."

Yoda stared a moment longer. Obi-Wan held his breath, masking his intense anxiety under a veil of serenity. Now, more than ever, he was his master's padawan-- everything depended on it.

Yoda looked up at Mace, then back to Qui-Gon. His voice still carried disapproval, but with it the kind of resignation that only came when he'd been bested. "Separated you will not be. Tell you, I need not, the importance of your position now, hm? Watch you, everyone shall." He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his centuries as he prepared to worry about two generations of padawan. "Go. Closed, this session is."

Obi-Wan had to fight the urge to shout a laugh and throw himself into his master's arms. Qui-Gon turned, shot his apprentice a triumphant look and preceded him out of the chamber.

Obi-Wan caught up with him right outside the door, grasping a voluminous brown sleeve. "You know," he said quietly in his smooth, cultured voice, "you're definitely getting laid for *that.*"

"Mmmm," Qui-Gon smiled, and Obi-Wan's stomach trembled when a large, warm hand enveloped his, right there in the Council antechamber. "I thought we might go out to dinner first."

End.