Master Apprentice
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Rating: R, for sexual innuendo and naughty language
Summary: What do padawans do in their spare time? Bail finds out.
Pairing: Obi/Bail, and assorted others
Warning: extreme silliness
Mush alert: just a teeny bit
Timeline: Approximately 4 years before TPM. Obi-Wan and Bail have been lovers for around a year.
Special guest stars: more beloved JA characters.
Archive: M-A and http://www.wyomingnot.com/rita/rita.html
Feedback: Oh, yes! On or off list. Whatever that means.
Requisite groveling: Dear Master George, if you're going to send a bounty hunter after me, please don't let it be Jango Fett! And please don't let him kidnap me and take me to his secret hide out and do perverse things to me involving jello and tropical fruits! And please don't let him "disintegrate" me!
Story order:
Perhaps
Maybe
Falling
Back for Seconds - Obi-Wan and Bail
Bailing Bail
Padawan Games <--You are here
Greener Pastures
Forgiven
Reality Check
Better Than Destiny
A Cross-Cultural Affair
Deconstruction
Reconstruction
Rewoven
Night Visitor
Father Figure
A Model Padawan
Not All Dreams Are Visions
You Don't Bring Me Flowers
Dangerous Fame
Labyrinth
Private Lessons (off-site link)
Owner's Mark
Epicenter
Duty
Penumbra
Nightfall
Batter My Heart
"So, your Highness, do you think you're man enough to play some padawan games?"
Bail looked at Siri in surprise. After months of prodding, he had finally convinced Obi-Wan to include him in one of the padawan excursions he was always talking about. It had been a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and Bail had been pleased to discover that a group of padawans could make for very agreeable companions. He was rather sorry when they finally returned to the Temple, despite the fact that it meant he would at last be able to get Obi-Wan alone.
The others, however, had something else in mind. "Padawan games?" he echoed. The Jedi exchanged sly glances, and Bail noticed that Obi- Wan frowned slightly, straightening his shoulders in a way that meant his sense of propriety was in jeopardy of being trodden upon. His reaction intrigued Bail. He had no idea what Siri was referring to, but it had to be good if it got Obi-Wan riled up. Turning his attention to Siri, Bail commented, "Somehow I doubt I'm man enough for any games a padawan might play, but I'm certainly willing to try, so long as you don't mind me looking like a fool."
Siri laughed in perverse delight. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll excel at these particular games," she assured him. "What do the rest of you say?"
Anath mirrored Obi-Wan's frown. "Aren't we getting a little old for this?"
"Never too old, Anath," Garen protested, draping an arm around his shoulders. "At least not as long as we're all still padawans."
"Don't tell me you'll stop playing when you become a knight, Garen!" Siri protested.
"Of course not," Garen said. "You'll quit before I will."
Lanari interjected, "Sounds like a dare to me, Muln. At this rate, you and Siri will still be going at it when you're both older than Master Yoda."
"Uh, what kind of games are you talking about exactly?" Bail wanted to know.
"Let's put it this way," Siri explained. "Padawan games are sometimes referred to as the lab unit of Sex Education."
"Ah," Bail exclaimed. His kind of thing indeed. Now he understood Obi-Wan's disapproval. He glanced uncertainly at his lover.
Obi-Wan only shook his head. "It's a little too late to get out of it now, Senator. You already agreed to it."
"I wasn't trying to get out of it."
"Don't worry, your Highness," Siri interjected. "You're a newbie. We'll stick to beginner's games."
"I'm not exactly a beginner," he said.
Obi-Wan nudged him sharply in the ribs. "You're not exactly a padawan, either."
What was that supposed to mean? An erotic thrill of anxiety coursed through Bail. It wasn't as if he had never played sex games before. The University of Alderaan was rather notorious for its extracurricular activities. But he had never played such games with Jedi. He hadn't even known Jedi played such games at all. Vaguely he recalled Obi-Wan mentioning youthful experimentation with other padawans, but it never occurred to Bail that he might have meant groups of padawans. Things could get quite interesting.
As the party headed through the halls, Garen fell into step beside Obi-Wan, leaning close in and asking in a preternaturally low whisper that only Obi-Wan could hear, "You don't mind, do you?"
"Uh... no," Obi-Wan said, not very convincingly.
"We won't let it get too wild. Siri's been dying to check the Prince out, and, well, frankly so am I. But we know he's your boyfriend."
"He's not exactly my boyfriend. He goes out with other people, too."
"Yes, but you don't."
Obi-Wan remained silent for a moment. "Really, it's all right. It's not love. He's just...." He shrugged.
"...someone you're sleeping with," Garen supplied. Obi-Wan nodded, coloring in embarrassment at having the relationship so crudely, if accurately, described. "All right, then. We don't want to cause any problem between you two."
"You won't," Obi-Wan assured him.
They had reached a long corridor of rooms. "These are guest rooms," Siri was explaining to Bail. "They are for visitors and for knights who spend so much time in the field they don't come home often enough to have their own quarters."
"And they're also for padawans who don't have quarters of their own to play in," Lanari added.
"So that's how it works," Bail remarked as they found an unoccupied room and filed in. It was much like a hotel room, with a kitchenette, a bed pushed against one wall, and a small study area.
"Functional, and a little crowded for seven," Siri observed, "but hey -- we're here to get cozy, after all."
As they pushed furniture aside to settle into a circle on the floor, Anath asked, "So, what will it be?"
"I move we play Spin the Lightsaber," Siri volunteered.
Bail burst out laughing. "You use a lightsaber? I'm scandalized! I thought you regarded your sabers with more respect than that."
"We accord them all due respect," Garen assured him, "but we are also practical about it."
"At university we used a beer bottle."
"How unoriginal," Lanari scorned.
"Perhaps," Bail agreed. "But it resulted in fewer accidental decapitations."
Siri laughed as she settled down next to the Prince. "Don't worry; we activate the safety."
Lanari seated herself on Bail's other side. Anath and Roda, as the group's only other semi-official couple, sat together next to Lanari. Garen was on Siri's right, leaving Obi-Wan across from Bail. The two women crowded close to Bail, and he didn't have to be a Jedi to sense the lust from rising from the padawans - lust directed at him. Bail was accustomed to being the object of desire, but he would have thought the Jedi to be above such things. He glanced with some misgiving at Obi-Wan, who he knew was not prone to public displays of affection. He was not at all sure how Obi-Wan would react to Bail kissing someone else in front of him. But then, Kenobi had agreed to the game. Perhaps he wouldn't mind so much after all. Certainly Bail had no intention of exercising any restraint. He was eager to learn if all Jedi were as talented in the concupiscent arts as Obi-Wan.
By tradition the oldest went first, which proved to be Anath. He reached out to give the saber a spin. It flashed on the ground before gradually stopping to point squarely at Roda. Bail suspected that the saber had had some assistance in selecting its target, and he abruptly realized that playing with a group of people talented in telekinesis would indeed make the game different from the variety he was accustomed to. No one seemed to regard Anath as having cheated, though as he claimed his kiss from Roda, Siri called out, "As if we didn't see that coming!"
While the two lovers indulged in a lingering kiss that the others scarcely paid attention to, Lanari said to Bail, "They say Alderaani is the language of love. Would you agree?"
"Absolutely," he assured her, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Obi-Wan squirm. The Jedi had heard this speech before. "If you're going to make love, there's no language better suited for seduction. Na lethese bi franois ur fa melan, eres allez mar agoigne. Ni samalese ur iridez ur soli et naudiz. Na mauvis sitaze di allura fa'drose. Na remplis e simoi azule dari." (You are such a vision of loveliness as to make a poet weep. Your eyes are as bright as sunlight on the sea, you move with the grace of a rose bowing in the wind. You fill me with liquid fire.)
"Yeah, yeah," Siri scoffed. "'Your lips are a crimson ribbon, your breasts are like clusters of grapes.' A little over the top, don't you think?" Before he could answer, she turned to Anath and Roda, still engaged in their kiss. "That's enough, there!" she called. "The rest of us want our turn as well!"
With some reluctance they broke off, and Roda spun the saber. It turned rapidly, and Bail hoped she wasn't going to point it back at Anath. As the saber spun, he remarked, "Alderaani is the language of poetry, of civilization and art. For all the finer things in life, like wooing a prospective lover, you use Alderaani. If it's fucking you want, use Corellian."
This dry comment elicited peals of scandalized laughter around the room. So amused were they that they almost failed to notice when the saber gradually came to a rest -- pointing at Obi-Wan.
Bail suppressed a slight twinge of jealousy. As far as he could tell, Roda had let the saber land wherever it would. Besides, he knew Obi-Wan didn't fancy girls, so he certainly had no reason to be jealous, not to mention the fact that he was hardly faithful to Obi- Wan himself. But as far as he knew, Obi-Wan did not see other people, which meant Roda would be venturing onto Bail's exclusive territory. He risked a glance at Obi-Wan, and was relieved to note the expression of mild resignation on his lover's face, as if Obi-Wan were about to execute a necessary but vaguely unpleasant duty.
The others were also apparently aware of Obi-Wan's sexual preference, including Roda, who looked scarcely more thrilled than Obi-Wan. Anath, by contrast, seemed faintly relieved.
"Kenobi scores with the Twi'lek!" Garen crowed in evident delight, while Siri and Lanari took up a chant of "Tongues! Tongues!" as Roda leaned across Anath to peck Obi-Wan chastely on the lips.
"No, no!" the others shouted in protest.
"That's not a kiss!" Lanari groaned. "Give him a real one, Roda!"
The Twi'lek padawan, who was really quite beautiful, Bail thought, flushed a lovely shade of deep blue before reaching out to grab Obi- Wan and pull him to her in a hard, open-mouthed kiss. Obi-Wan writhed in her grip, Anath silently fumed, and Bail watched in utter fascination as his somewhat staid lover was forced to endure Roda's embrace. The others cheered when Roda finally released him, settling back in her place looking smug, while Obi-Wan drew the back of his hand across his mouth, blushing furiously.
Shrugging, Siri turned to Garen. "How would you rank it?"
"About a four," he offered. "Roda gave it her best, but Obi-Wan totally fumbled." He leaned closer to Obi-Wan, gazing at him through seductive eyes. "Really, old boy, I know you can do better than that."
Obi-Wan blushed even more deeply, and Bail glanced sharply at Garen. He knew the man was an old friend of Obi-Wan's, but it had never occurred to him before that he might be Bail's type of "old friend," code for an ex-lover.
As Lanari spun the saber, Siri picked up on their earlier conversation . "So Corellian is for fucking, eh?"
"Corellian is the language of instinct and emotion, straightforward and to the point," he expounded. "There's nothing fine or delicate about it. Corellian is for fucking your lovers, cursing your enemies, and bragging to your friends. You use Alderaani in a concert hall or art gallery. Corellian is for cantinas and spaceports."
"You'd better not tell that to a Corellian," Anath remarked with a hint of rebuke.
"Why not? All the Corellians I know are quite proud of their language."
"Give us an example of Corellian fuck-talk," Siri urged, her eyes gleaming in mischievous humor.
Bail thought for a moment, then purred, "Crahma, ga obair. Li mall ceolann dais. Faer that geal bealamonan ach anall oighe lamo thuran?" (Nice ass, baby. You make my balls ache. Whaddya say we find someplace private and get into each other's pants?)
Another appreciative round of laughter and applause. "You convinced me," Siri leered. Out of the corner of his eye Bail saw Obi-Wan shaking his head, laughing. Their eyes met briefly, enticingly, and Bail felt that familiar electric jolt shooting straight to his groin. Obi-Wan could elicit a decidedly Corellian reaction from Bail with one glance.
Meanwhile the saber was still spinning an unnaturally long time. Bail glanced down at it, and the weapon abruptly pointed to him. There was nothing subtle about it.
"Well, well, well, look who I got?" Lanari drawled, running her hand up Bail's arm.
He had known it was going to happen. There was a reason, after all, why he had been invited to play. But the fact that they were all Jedi, and that Obi-Wan was sitting right across from him, suddenly made Bail distinctly nervous. He barely had time to compose himself, however, before Lanari was on him, her mouth devouring his, her tongue pushing past his lips, kissing him eagerly. He tried to return the kiss, but her hands tightly gripped his shoulders. This was a battle in which she would give no quarter.
When she finally released him, his mouth felt numb from the assault. Lanari sat back on her heels looking quite pleased with herself, while the others applauded.
"Well?" Siri asked Garen.
"I'd give it a 6.5," he pronounced. Lanari scowled in protest, and he elaborated, "Lots of gusto, but no finesse."
"More of a Corellian kiss than an Alderaani one?" Roda offered archly.
Without thinking, Bail contradicted, "That wasn't a Corellian kiss. Believe me, I know a good fucking kiss when I --" he stopped abruptly, horrified. He was sensitive about revealing too much of his experience in front of Obi-Wan. The Jedi had always struck him as being above such shenanigans, and Bail did not want to earn Obi- Wan's disapproval.
Everyone else, however, perked up in prurient interest. "And what is a good fucking kiss like?" Siri wanted to know.
"Um...," Bail hesitated, keenly aware of Obi-Wan's eyes on him.
"He has a chance to demonstrate," Lanari interjected. "It's his turn to spin."
Oh, shit. Swallowing hard, he reached out and twirled the saber, not at all certain whether or not he wanted it to land on Obi-Wan. Let it be Anath, he thought, picking the one person in the group who didn't appear to be interested in him.
"So if my kiss wasn't Corellian," Lanari inquired, "what was it?"
"Well, don't get me wrong. It was a good kiss, but... impersonal. I'd say Huttese."
This elicited uproarious laughter from the others. Siri chortled so hard she rolled on the floor, clutching her sides. Lanari, however, fumed.
"I didn't mean you kiss like a Hutt," Bail hastily explained. "Huttese is spoken throughout a third of the galaxy. It's the language of business, of transaction. Corellian is straightforward and colorful. Huttese is straightforward and blunt. It's the language of prostitution."
His argument failed to appease Lanari, who only look more peeved, but the others found his assessment hilarious.
"Example?" Siri solicited.
"Chuba! Kava nopees do bampa woola?" (Hey, you! How much for the entire night?)
"Uba wan chee kospah, murishani," Siri returned. (You can't afford me, bad boy!)
"Jeedai ees hoppoda nopa." (Jedi are too expensive.)
"Keel-ee calleya kukah!" (You got that right!)
"Hey, everyone," Lanari called. "We have ourselves a winner."
No one had noticed that the saber had stopped spinning, and it was facing Garen. Great. Of all people, it had to be the man who was quite possibly Obi-Wan's former lover. Bail had no way of knowing whether the saber had been helped in making its choice, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Garen turned his piercing eyes on Bail, like twin lasers, boring a hole straight through him. The Prince gulped, even as Siri commanded, "Now show us what a good Corellian kiss looks like."
Worse and worse. But there was no way Bail would fail to perform. Resolutely not looking at Obi-Wan, he crossed the circle to gather Garen in his arms, swallowing him in a hungry kiss. His tongue stroked into Garen's mouth in the familiar rhythm of sex, as he slowly pressed the Jedi back down onto the floor, lying almost on top of him, their legs tangled, Garen's hands running up his back. It took tremendous self-control for Bail not to move his body against Garen's. The Jedi arched up into him, but Bail focused solely on the kiss. Soon his self-consciousness melted away, and the kiss began to feel not only comfortable but good. Bail stiffened, aware suddenly that they were not alone, that in fact Obi-Wan was watching him. He retained the presence of mind to end the kiss with a satisfactory finale, one slow thrust of his tongue, then he caught Garen's lower lip in his teeth before pulling away. He sat up amid hoots and whistles, avoiding Obi-Wan's eyes as he returned to his place in the circle.
Garen slowly sat up, his eyes unfocused, and Siri clapped him on the shoulder. "What do you say, Muln? Do you feel well fucked?"
Garen had the decency to blush at that. Running a hand through his hair, he confessed, "I'd definitely say that was a good Corellian kiss."
"How did it rate?" Roda queried.
"I never rate anyone who's just kissed me."
"I would give it at least an eight," Roda offered. "It's helpful to know a Senator's tongue is useful for more than just talking."
Bail blushed, the padawans snickered, and Siri piped up, "My turn now." She gave the saber a vigorous spin, but it only rotated twice before stopping abruptly in front of Bail. "Imagine that!" she exclaimed.
As she approached the Prince, Obi-Wan muttered, "Really, this is a little much."
Siri turned to look at him, clucking her tongue. "If you didn't want to share, you shouldn't have played the game. You know the rules."
"I didn't mean --," he started to protest, then stopped and irritably crossed his arms. "Oh, never mind."
Bail was astonished. Obi-Wan was sulking? For him? How adorable. But he was not allowed to relish the sight. Siri had returned her attention to him, approaching him slowly with a carnivorous gleam in her eyes. She hovered close to him and stopped, her lips a breath away from his. Bail didn't move -- couldn't breathe -- frozen with anticipation.
"Get on with it, will you?" Obi-Wan groused.
Bail started to smile, but just then Siri flicked the tip of her tongue across his lips, and he went rigid with erotic tension. She sank into him, lips drawing on his, tongue caressing. Slow, hot, and oh, so wet. It was the kind of kiss that hurts your brain and causes your lungs to stop functioning, the kind of kiss that rings in your ears and disintegrates your bones, the kind that pools in your groin and evokes an orgasm even when you're in a room full of people watching....
Oh, that was definitely not good. Bail broke off the kiss, pulling away, breathing heavily as he struggled to regain his composure. He doubted he had ever been kissed so expertly in his life.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Garen giving his assessment. "It started well, but I'm afraid I'll have to take off points for the ending. A seven."
"What?" Siri turned on him, incredulous.
"That's hardly fair," Roda protested. "She should get extra points if she's so good she scares him."
Bail managed to bristle at the Twi'lek's implication, but Garen argued, "No, no, no. A kiss shouldn't scare a person. That's a fumble. Sorry, but you blew it, Siri."
Her voice husky with lust, she whispered to Bail, "I can blow it again." "Forget it, Siri. No overs," Garen protested. "Besides, it's my turn."
Around and around the saber twirled before coming to a gradual stop -- in front of Obi-Wan. It was subtle enough that it appeared to have been chance, but the smug look on Garen's face implied otherwise. Obi-Wan smirked, looking entirely too pleased in Bail's opinion. Garen folded his arms around Obi-Wan, practically crawling into the padawan's lap, and kissed him deeply, deliberately, passionately, his body undulating against Obi-Wan's, fingers digging through his hair. Wantonly, possessively.
And Obi-Wan returned as good as he got.
Bail did not like that.
He did not like it one bit.
Now, Bail did not particularly believe in sexual fidelity. He certainly had other lovers in addition to Obi-Wan. The Jedi, on the other hand, was prone to monogamy. Bail had stressed time and again that Obi-Wan should not feel so obligated, but for whatever obscure reasons, Obi-Wan had no other lovers. Bail knew this. He knew that whatever Garen may have once been to Obi-Wan in the past, he was not his lover now. It had been one thing when Roda kissed Obi-Wan. After all, Bail had nothing to fear from a woman. But watching another man kiss Obi-Wan, his lover, kissing lips that for over a year now Bail alone had tasted, and worse, watching Obi-Wan return that kiss with what could only be called fervor -- this evoked a raging jealousy inside Bail that he would never have believed he was capable of.
On and on they kissed, and the tension built up in Bail until he wanted nothing more than to look away, but he couldn't do it, couldn't move at all.
At last the kiss wound down, though they continued to nibble on each other's lips. When Garen finally released him, Obi-Wan turned a slow, languorous gaze on Bail, as if to say, Two can play at this game.
The others applauded, all except for Anath, who was perturbed. "Points off for bad taste. You shouldn't mosh in front of his boyfriend like that. I give it a five."
"That's not a rule," Lanari protested. "If anything he should get extra points for making Obi-Wan forget his boyfriend was here. I make it at least a nine"
"I agree," Roda put in.
Siri only scoffed. "I can do better than that. Six."
"That's not fair!" Garen protested.
"Well, you only gave me a seven! Maybe we should ask the Prince what he thinks?"
Bail froze. It was bad enough having to watch it. They wanted him to comment on it as well? But to his relief, Roda rescued him. "No," she pronounced with a note of finality. "It's Obi-Wan's turn."
As aroused as Obi-Wan had been by Garen's kiss, the subsequent rating discussion, particularly with regard to the propriety of the kiss, had thoroughly squashed his libido, leaving him uncertain and a little disturbed. He hardly felt up to taking his turn, but he couldn't get out of it. Taking a steadying breath, he reached for the saber and sent it spinning.
Before he could make up his mind whether or not to stop it on Bail, he felt several pulses of the Force. The saber wobbled, then reversed direction several times, jerking back and forth before skidding across the floor to hit Bail's knee.
"Good heavens!" the Prince exclaimed. "We must have just experienced a minor earthquake."
"I didn't do that," Obi-Wan explained, though he was unsure who he was explaining it to.
"Of course not," Siri protested. "But forces of nature still count. It's a legitimate spin."
Five padawans leaned forward in eager expectation as Obi-Wan and Bail faced each other across the circle. Slowly Obi-Wan crawled across the floor until he was kneeling in front of Bail. He leaned forward and touched his lips gently, chastely, to Bail's. For a moment they did not move. Then Obi-Wan brushed his lips across Bail's in tiny kisses that gradually built up in intensity, and Bail succumbed helplessly to their spell.
Oh, those kisses! Like sweet wine, warming his body and fuzzing his mind, making him dizzy, drunk. He reached out to Obi-Wan to steady himself, only to come into contact with another form of intoxication, the Jedi's firm, well-formed body. Erotic heat penetrated their clothes, searing their skin, and they knelt up, chests pressed together, arms around each other, mouths locked in a slow, passionate, tongue-tangling kiss. No thought of anyone else in the room, no tease, no battle, just the drinking in of each other in a moment that stretched out into timelessness.
Gradually the kiss eased, and Obi-Wan withdrew slightly. Bail pressed his forehead to Obi-Wan's, releasing a deep, contented sigh. Slowly he became aware of his surroundings, and the fact that no one was speaking. He pulled back to see the other padawans staring at them in frank fascination. Bail blushed furiously, grateful that his dark skin camouflaged the reaction.
"That was definitely an Alderaani kiss," Siri pronounced in satisfaction.
"The perfect blend of skill and passion," Garen agreed. "I give it a ten."
The others chorused their agreement, eliciting more self-conscious blushes from Bail, but Obi-Wan was perfectly composed. He favored Bail with a little, contented smile and began to peel himself away from their embrace. Bail unconsciously clung to him, unable to let go, and when Obi-Wan finally succeeded in breaking contact, Bail felt bereft, settling back into his place with a plaintive sigh, his eyes locked onto Obi-Wan.
Siri echoed his sigh, "Oh, Obi-Wan, it's such a shame you don't like girls."
"I do like girls," he protested. "I just don't want to sleep with them."
"It's because of Bant," Garen supplied. "He's loved her all his life, but humans and Calamarians aren't sexually compatible, so out of faithfulness to her he won't sleep with any other woman."
"You get the most hair-brained ideas, Muln," Obi-Wan groused.
"It's my spin," Anath piped up.
"Well, we know in your case it'll never land on a boy," Siri commented. "Just so long as it's not Roda again."
Perhaps inspired by the suggestion, the saber picked Lanari. Bail suspected it was deliberate. Anath approached her for a perfunctory kiss, but she had other ideas, grabbing him and kissing him just as thoroughly as she had Bail.
When they parted, Garen grunted his displeasure. "Sith, that was awful. Anath, you really need more practice. A three."
"Maybe I just need the right partner," he groused.
"Poor Roda," Garen commented. "What would she do without these games?"
"What do you know, Garen? Anath has other talents you know nothing about!" Her comment elicited a chorus of hoots as she spun the saber for her turn.
"For your sake I hope so," Garen agreed. Then turning to the others, he asked, "So, if you could kiss any member of the Council, who would it be?"
Without missing a beat, Roda and Lanari chorused simultaneously, "Adi Gallia."
"Honestly, you two!" Siri muttered.
"What is it about her?" Obi-Wan wondered.
"You couldn't possibly understand, old boy," Garen commented.
"It's the eyes," Lanari supplied.
"It's everything," Roda offered. "Her beauty, her bearing, her talent...."
"The headdress!" Lanari concluded, and the two women sighed.
"What do you think it is, Siri?" Garen asked knowingly.
To Bail's surprise, she refused to answer, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Garen winked at Bail. "Poor girl, to be padawan to the sexiest Knight in the Order."
"She's in love with her master, too?" Bail blurted out before realizing what he had said. He knew Obi-Wan was in love with Qui-Gon Jinn, but he didn't know if that was common knowledge.
As it turned out, he was revealing no secrets. "What do you mean?" Lanari shot back. "Everyone is in love with their own master!"
"Not me!" Anath piped up.
"Except for you," Lanari allowed. "But only because your master is male. Aside from issues of gender preference, species compatibility, and extreme age difference, padawans always fall in love with their masters."
"I had no idea it was so widespread," Bail confessed.
"Oh sure," Garen supplied, "but most of us get over it pretty easily. Only Siri and Obi-Wan have it bad. Siri because, well, we are talking about Master Adi." He sighed dreamily, then turned on Obi-Wan. "But I have never understood your hang up on Master Qui- Gon. He's old enough to be your grandfather!"
"He is not!" Obi-Wan protested, squirming.
"And that broken nose," Lanari added.
"It makes him unique."
"And he's so stern," Siri chimed in.
"No, he isn't!"
"He isn't?" Garen echoed in disbelief. "Have you forgotten all that angst?" He raised the back of his hand to his forehead, and in perfect imitation of Obi-Wan's accent, pined, "'Will he ever accept me as his padawan? Will he ever take me back? Oh, Master gave me fourteen hours of saber practice because I was five minutes late for curfew!'"
"He never!"
"Just listen to yourself, Kenobi! 'He is not too old! He is not too stern!' Admit it, old boy, beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder."
"That's enough, Garen," Siri quietly rebuked.
"Oh, come on," Garen teased. "You know how Obi-Wan-"
"I said, that's enough," Siri repeated sternly. Garen fell silent, and something passed through all the padawans, something Bail did not at all understand. He only knew that Obi-Wan was distressed by the conversation, and he was glad Siri had put an end to it.
"Anyway, it's my spin," Roda offered, and she gave the saber a whirl.
But Garen was not quite ready to let the subject drop. "So tell us, Senator, what do you think of Master Qui-Gon?"
Stars above! What had happened to Jedi diplomacy? Everyone held their breath. Kenobi sat looking at the floor. Bail fumed. Garen was goading him, or more likely Obi-Wan, but Bail would not play that kind of padawan game. "I don't know him well," he confessed, "but I have it on authority that he is as fine a specimen of manhood as you could ever hope to find."
There was a pause, then Siri said, "Spoken like a true gentleman, your Highness. I declare that subject closed." Bail risked a glance at Obi-Wan. He still had not looked up, but he smiled.
"Well, look who I got!" Roda called. Bail looked at the saber and saw it was pointing at Garen. She crawled across the floor to Garen, who watched her expectantly, but at the last minute, she dodged his waiting lips and stuck her tongue in his ear.
Garen squealed in protest, squirming away from her as the rest laughed.
"How would you rate that, Kenobi?" Siri called.
"A 9.5!" Obi-Wan laughed.
"Now that's a Huttese kiss!" Roda exclaimed.
"My turn!" Lanari called.
As she spun the saber, Anath observed, "You know, we had a topic earlier. Which member of the Council would you most want to kiss?"
"All right, you answer," Siri prompted.
"While I certainly see the appeal of your master, personally I have always found Master Depa to be irresistible."
"Irresistible, eh?" Roda asked in mock disapproval.
"In theory," he amended.
In a sing-song voice, Lanari called, "Roda!"
"What?"
She pointed at the saber, which was pointing at Roda.
As Roda gave Lanari a seductive, come-hither look, Siri dismissed, "Oh, go ahead, you two. We already know which Council member you want." She turned to Obi-Wan. "Who would you pick?"
With an impish grin (the kind that always melted Bail's insides) Obi- Wan mused, "I've always had a thing for Master Koon."
"Liar!" Siri protested. Cocking an eyebrow at Bail, she asked, "Are you familiar with the Council?"
"Yes."
"Then you know why Padawan Kenobi is lying through his teeth." She turned back to Obi-Wan. "Seriously, who?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Master Eeth, then. There's something about those horns."
Siri nodded. "He's my choice, too."
"You mean after your own master?" Garen teased.
"Stow it, Muln," she warned. "I suppose we already know who you would pick."
"Well, after your master, of course, I'd definitely pick Mace Windu."
"What?! And you said Master Qui-Gon was stern!"
"What can I say? It's that sexy bald head. He can discipline me any day!"
"Sick, sick, sick."
"Hey!" Lanari called, dragging their attention back to her and Roda. "You missed our kiss!"
"Oh. Sorry," Siri apologized.
Roda offered slyly, "I guess we'll just have to do it again."
"You heard Garen, no overs," Siri dismissed. "Anath will just have to rate it. I'm sure he at least was paying attention."
Anath blushed to the roots of his hair. "I'm not exactly an impartial observer."
"Too bad," Lanari dismissed. "You all have no idea what you missed." She smiled naughtily at Bail. "I guess it's your turn again."
Bail gave the saber a spin, but almost immediately the weapon began to jerk around across the floor.
"Stop it!" Garen called.
"You stop it," Siri retorted, "or we'll end up skewering someone."
Lanari reached out and grabbed the dancing saber. "Oh, forget it and just kiss him," she advised the Prince.
Relieved, Bail rose from his place, but before he could get far, Roda called, "Challenge!"
He blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Challenge," she repeated. "Like no tongues."
"No hands," Siri offered.
Lanari piped up, "You can't kiss him on the mouth."
"Ooo, that's good," Siri approved, and the others nodded.
"A challenge," Bail mused softly, considering Obi-Wan with dark, heated eyes. The Jedi was held transfixed, simultaneously aroused and terrified by what Bail would come up with.
The Prince settled on the floor in front of Obi-Wan and took his hand. His eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's, he rubbed his thumb across the back of Obi-Wan's hand before raising it to his lips and kissing it. Obi-Wan shivered as Bail's tongue lapped at the valley between his knuckles, then his hand was turned and Bail nuzzled into his palm, warm, moist lips brushing against his rough skin. Bail nibbled and licked his way down Obi-Wan's fingers before sucking the tip of one into his mouth. Obi-Wan moaned, prompting Bail to smile wickedly and swallow another finger. This was way too intimate for public display. Obi-Wan's self-control was stretched to the limit by Bail's assault. Obi-Wan's breathing grew heavy and labored as he struggled to sit still. Bail released his fingers and went to work on his thumb, biting hard, and Obi-Wan almost leaped out of his skin.
"All right, all right! That's enough!" someone mercifully called off.
With a growl, Bail released Obi-Wan's hand and pounced on the padawan, devouring him with an ardent kiss that Obi-Wan met with equal fire.
"Stop! Your turn is over!" Siri shouted, but Bail refused to back off, making a rude gesture with one hand as he groped Obi-Wan with the other.
"Are we going to have to throw you two in the shower?" Lanari protested. "No outright sex is allowed."
Obi-Wan knew he couldn't take much more of this. He writhed within Bail's grasp, managing to break free and push the Prince off him. They were both flushed and breathless. Siri and Lanari reached out and physically dragged Bail back to his place, holding him there as he threatened to crawl back across the circle to get to Obi- Wan. "Don't make me mind whammy you," Siri warned.
"That one was off the scale," Garen said. "Really, Kenobi, I had no idea your boyfriend was such an exhibitionist."
"Then again, he is a senator," Anath pointed out. "We should have expected it."
"He certainly lives up to his reputation," Roda observed, beginning to regret that she had not used one of her turns on him.
Siri whimpered. "I am in desperate need of my turn." She spun the saber, which rotated once and stopped sharply on Garen.
"Oh, yeah!" he crowed as she threw herself at him.
"Meanwhile, the rest of us need to get our hormones under control," Lanari drawled. "So, which member of the Council would you least want to kiss? Obi-Wan?"
Absently, Obi-Wan replied, "Master Even. He's always frightened me."
"What, you think broken noses are sexy, but not missing eyes?"
"Master Even really is stern. Every time he looks at me I fear he wants to carve me up with his lightsaber."
"Okay. Anath?"
"Master Koon."
"Well, that's obvious. Pick someone other than Master Koon."
Anath thought for a moment. "Master Yoda, then. I love him dearly, but it would be like kissing my great-great-grandfather."
"I think you need to add a few more ' greats' in there. Roda?"
"Master Adi -- because if I kissed her, I'd never kiss anyone else for the rest of my life."
"Pathetic," Lanari pronounced. "Me, I'd say Master Yarael. I always find it disconcerting how he waves his head around. I'd be afraid his neck would snap." She eyed Bail. "We never found out which Master you would want to kiss."
"None of them," he replied. "I prefer padawans."
"You don't know what you're missing," she chided.
"Apparently, neither do any of you."
The others laughed. "Point taken!"
Siri and Garen were still locked in an embrace, and Lanari called, "That's enough!" giving them a Force shove. They came up for air, gasping. "Did you have fun, little padawans?" she asked sweetly.
"What did we rate?" Siri want to know.
"Oh, no one was paying any attention."
"What?! I demand a rating!"
"For pity's sake, Siri, are you so competitive you even have to win at kissing?"
She flipped her short blond hair back out of her eyes, indignant. "I just want to be the best."
"Too bad you can't ask your master for assistance."
As Siri stuck her tongue out at Lanari, Garen took his spin, the weapon coming to rest facing Anath.
"No fair, you did that on purpose!" he protested. His complaint was met with a chorus of unsympathetic voices. Cheating was a time- honored part of the game.
"Obi-Wan had to kiss a girl," Garen pointed out. "It's only fair that you should have to kiss a boy."
"All right," Anath groused, "but no tongues."
"Fat chance! I'm gonna show you how a real man kisses." Garen gathered the still reluctant Anath in his arms and proceeded to show him no mercy.
Ignoring them, Lanari asked, "So, Siri, which Council member would you least want to kiss? Other than Master Koon."
Siri considered. "Other than Master Koon, I'd kiss any of them." A pause, then. "Well, maybe now not Master Oppo. He's too hairy."
"Hey, check it out," Roda called, "I think Anath is getting into it." Indeed, while he did not seem to be responding with gusto to Garen's ministrations, he had stopped struggling.
While the women hooted comments, encouraging Anath and urging Garen on, Bail look across the circle at Obi-Wan, who was gazing steadily at him. Bail's stomach lurched, and he ached to close the distance between them, to feel Obi-Wan's strong, warm body against his. They had been lovers for going on a year now. Bail had never stayed with anyone so long, and yet even after all this time, whenever he looked at Obi-Wan he felt as helpless and dizzy as a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush. He had other lovers, and he had certainly enjoyed getting to know -- or at least experience -- some of the other padawans, but Obi-Wan had become the standard by which all others were measured, and so far no one else had even come close.
Garen at last released Anath, who swayed slightly, blushing. "How'd I do?" he asked the others.
"Anath took it better than Obi-Wan," Siri observed. "I'll give you a seven."
"That's not too bad, considering --."
"My turn!" Obi-Wan interrupted. He didn't even bother to spin the saber, launching across the circle at Bail, who grinned broadly.
"No, no, no!" Lanari protested. "Game's over! You can take your turn in private. I have no desire to see another session of the Kenobi-Organa peep show!"
"I'm willing to watch!" Siri leered.
"I don't think so," Obi-Wan said, his arms locked tightly around Bail. "And if I have to forfeit my turn to protect your virtue, then Bail and I get first dibs on this room."
"Fair enough," Lanari replied. "Roda, Anath, it looks like you'll have to move out."
"And where will the rest of us go?" Siri wondered.
"And whatever will we find to do at this time of night?" Garen continued in mock innocence.
Shoving at him, Obi-Wan said, "I don't care, just as long as you do it elsewhere. Now."
The others stood, not so reluctantly, and chorused their farewells. As they filed out of the room, Siri turned to Bail. "You know, if you ever get tired of Kenobi, there are plenty of other padawans to go around."
Obi-Wan came up behind Bail, his arms sliding possessively around the Prince's waist, and Bail leaned back against him, sighing in contentment. "I'll keep that in mind," he promised her, his dark eyes sparkling. "But don't hold your breath."