Master Apprentice
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Title: Reasons
Author: Grace (megchan @ gmail.com)
Website: http://www.megchan.com/misc
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, etc.
Categories: Q/O, AU
Archive: M_A, Fic-A-Thon page, anywhere else, so long as my name is on it
Feedback: Fangirling and concrit both welcomed enthusiastically.
Notes: Thanks to Helens and Dee for the beta! Written for a challenge on the Master-Apprentice list. The challenge is completely spoilery, so I've posted it below the fic itself.
Everyone's heard of Ben Kenobi. Most of what they've heard is wrong, of course - contrary to the most persistent rumor, he's not a Sith Lord, and he didn't kill a man on Coruscant just to watch him die - but he likes it that way. The truth's not interesting anyway. The truth never matters.
"You have bad luck with Padawans," Ben says conversationally, and Qui-Gon just glares up at him. "First Xanatos, then me... What do they say about you back at the Temple?"
"They don't-"
"Oh, but they do," Ben purrs, caressing Qui-Gon's cheek, thumb dragging over his lower lip. "Not to your face, but amongst themselves. What must they think?" He draws back, palms flat against Qui-Gon's chest, his touch deliberately soft, calculated.
"They won't let you have another Padawan now."
"I don't want another Padawan."
"Don't you? Aren't you curious? I'm curious, Master." Scooting back just a hair, Ben can feel Qui-Gon's cock, hard and hot against his ass, and he can't quite bite back the moan that's been building in the back of his throat.
"Don't call me Master," Qui-Gon snaps, and Ben smiles.
"But you are. You'll always be my master. You made me what I am."
"No..."
"Yes." Ben leans forward, reaching out as his lips meet Qui-Gon's. Even now, full grown, his fingers only reach Qui-Gon's wrists, closing over the smooth leather holding him in place. Qui-Gon's mouth opens under his, easily as always.
"They whisper about you," Ben mumbles between kisses. "They wonder..." He sits back again, wishing his heart wouldn't race quite so fast. "Once is excusable. The Padawan's fault. No one doubted you, did they? Not then."
Qui-Gon tugs at his restraints, squirming underneath Ben, and Ben can't tell if he's trying to get free or just trying to rub his cock against Ben's ass. Whichever it is, it's only accomplishing the latter.
"But two Padawans...that's harder to brush off. Two Padawans and people begin to wonder what's wrong with the Master. They begin to ask..." Ben's voice drops to whisper, "what did he do to them?"
"Obi-Wan-"
The sound of Ben's palm striking Qui-Gon's cheek is loud, echoing through Ben's mind, the way Qui-Gon's head snaps to the side burns onto his retinas. "Don't call me that. Don't you ever call me that," he hisses.
Ben pushes off him, rolls across the bed and onto the floor, grabs the waistband of his pants and shoves. Naked now, he kicks them off and holds out his arm towards the bedside table. Gone is his usual grace, every move made jerky with anger. The lubricant flies into his hand so hard it hurts, and he sees Qui-Gon's eyes go wide at his casual use of the Force.
Straddling Qui-Gon's hips once again, Ben opens the jar, scoops up a glob of the gel and reaches behind himself to slick Qui-Gon's cock. He doesn't bother with anything else, just lifts up, sinks down, mouth stretching wide as he takes Qui-Gon in. It's been so long - years and years and years, it seems - but it feels so familiar.
Qui-Gon is saying something, murmuring words that Ben can't quite catch. Doesn't matter; Qui-Gon doesn't have anything to say that Ben wants to hear, not anymore.
"Is this why you came to me?" Fingers wrapped loosely around his cock, Ben strokes himself slowly, pulling the skin down and up, over the head and down again. "Is this what you wanted?" He clenches his muscles tight around Qui-Gon's shaft.
Hips working, Qui-Gon moans, and Ben can see him swallow before he speaks, Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. "I wanted to talk to you..."
"Don't...lie to me." Ben's still stroking himself, moving faster and faster on Qui-Gon's cock, getting breathless. "Sick of...your lies..."
Just a few more quick jerks and Ben is coming, cock pulsing in his hand, shooting jet after jet of come to land on Qui-Gon's chest. Eyes closed, still shuddering, Ben feels Qui-Gon's hips snap up hard, pumping, and Ben knows he's close. He clamps down around Qui-Gon's cock, arching his back and soaking in the broken moans as his master comes.
Ben laughs, then. "Was it worth it?"
Qui-Gon's expression is unreadable, but Ben's not particularly interested in reading it. He leans forward, hands encircling Qui-Gon's neck, thumbs caressing his Adam's apple. "You're a failure, Master," he says, and Qui-Gon's eyes go wide, panicked. He starts to struggle as Ben presses down.
"I just want to help you," Ben whispers, grip tightening with all the power of the Force behind it. "Don't worry."
When it's all over and Qui-Gon is still beneath him, Ben gets up, slides off the bed once more, looks dispassionately down at his master. Turning on his heel, he pads over to the fresher.
No, Ben would never kill someone just to watch them die. He always has a reason.
The End.