Master Apprentice
Archive
|
|
|||
(continued from part 1)
Having found Jar Jar dozing soundly in the sleeping compartment, Anakin Skywalker returned swiftly to the common area. Maybe I can convince Qui-Gon to let me hold his light saber, that would be so wizard! The boy thought. He was delighted that Jar Jar was zonked. He had decided to try to leave Qui-Gon alone with his apprentice as little as possible. Who knows what nasty things braid-boy is saying about me when I’m not around.
Turning the corner back to the main room, Anakin skidded quietly to a halt, astounded at what he saw. Master Qui-Gon and his apprentice were pressed together in an intimate embrace. The boy’s mouth dropped open and he brought his hand up to cover it as the tall Master leaned down to kiss Obi-Wan softly. Anakin’s eyes widened further as Qui-Gon lightly ran his tongue along his Padawan’s lower lip. This swiftly progressed into a long, lingering full-blown snog that Master Jinn seemed to be enjoying immensely.
Skywalker, a very observant boy, didn’t fail to notice that although the younger Jedi’s hands rested on Master Jinn’s bottom, Obi-Wan seemed dazed and not one hundred percent cognizant. What the hells is going on here? the boy wondered to himself.
Before Anakin could begin to think up a possible answer to his query, the smaller man seemed to come to himself and abruptly drew away from his Master. As Qui-Gon balanced himself, the apprentice stammered a few words and quickly fled.
Anakin began to panic as Obi-Wan headed in his direction. His worries proved unfounded as the young Jedi sped past him, knocking into the boy slightly but not seeming to notice him at all. Ani turned and saw Obi-Wan retreat into the sleeping quarters without looking back.
The sleeping area door slid shut behind Kenobi, and Anakin brought his attention back to Master Jinn. The man stood there, looking dazed and troubled as he touched his mouth.
Before Anakin could decide whether he should intrude or not, the Jedi Master turned calmly and walked the opposite direction, towards the cockpit.
Although only nine, Anakin Skywalker was no naive child. Slavery had aged him quickly, and he knew far more about intimate relations than most ‘normal’ kids his age. He knew some men preferred other boys, instead of girls. He himself hadn’t given it much thought, but assumed from the way he sometimes looked at girls and thought they were pretty, that he would not grow up to like other boys in that way. As a matter of fact, he had already decided that Padme was the girl he would marry eventually, she just didn't know it yet.
Is this normal for Jedi? Are apprentices expected to service their Masters? This thinking alarmed Anakin. His forehead creased in worry and he started to think he hadn’t been told everything about the Jedi lifestyle.
But Obi-Wan seemed out of it, maybe Qui-Gon whammied him or something. If the other thoughts had bothered him, this one frankly terrified him. If he did succeed in getting Master Jinn to dump Kenobi and take him as his apprentice, would Qui-Gon expect Anakin to kiss him like that? If he didn’t want to, would the Jedi Master do something to make him more pliable, like Obi-Wan had seemed to be?
The more Anakin thought, the more confused he got. The boy didn’t know what the deal was, but he knew one thing: Anything was better than being a slave.
Qui-Gon sat at the navigator’s station of the Royal Naboo cruiser. Obi-Wan’s usual spot. Astronavigation had always been one of his Padawan's best subjects, and Qui-Gon had no illusions when it came to allocating superior resources. The Jedi Master had never been the type to think he could do everything himself, and do it better than anyone else. Qui-Gon's eyes were glazed as he stared at the console. His Padawan had retreated to his bunk and had not reappeared. That had been eight hours ago.
No, not eight hours.
Eight hours, six minutes, and....twenty-four seconds. Twenty-five...
The dejected sigh that emanated from the Jedi Master was loud enough to catch Ric Olie’s attention. The pilot glanced over, thought of asking the big man if he was feeling ill or otherwise out-of-sorts. One look at the Jedi confirmed that this would be a Bad Idea, and Olie made the wise decision to keep his mouth shut.
The cockpit door opened suddenly, admitting the small form of Anakin Skywalker into the room. The boy glanced at Olie, then made a beeline for Qui-Gon Jinn. Not finding a chair close enough to sit in and converse with the man, Anakin shrugged slightly and sat on the floor at the Master’s feet. He looked up at Qui-Gon and gave him one of his best “I’m a cute little harmless kid” smiles.
Qui-Gon stared at the boy. No other response was forthcoming, and Skywalker’s smile faded in its wattage.
Jinn continued to stare at the boy, but Anakin had the suspicion that Qui-Gon was not seeing him at all.
He must be angry that Obi-Wan ran away from him instead of fulfilling his duties, Anakin decided.
“Master Jinn?” The boy attempted.
Qui-Gon’s eyes didn’t move, but gradually lost their glazed look and focused on the boy sitting at his feet. “Yes, Anakin?”
The tone and voice were softer than Skywalker had ever heard the man speak before. Qui-Gon’s normal speech tended to be mild and not loud by any means, but this. This was something else. Dejected. Wounded. Resigned. Not angry at all...And Anakin grew quite puzzled.
Putting aside his examination of Jinn’s mood, the boy got down to business. He had a message to impart, and he would do it regardless of Jinn’s problem.
“What do you think of Padme, Master?”
Qui-Gon looked confused. “Padme?” His brows drew together.
What Jinn thought didn’t matter to Anakin, it was just a way to open the conversation. “I really like her.” The boy looked at the Jedi Master guilelessly. “I think I’d like to marry her someday.”
Qui-Gon smiled. A bit too tightly. “She seems a very nice sort of girl.” He said calmly. “Jedi aren’t permitted to marry though, you know.”
Anakin tempered his reaction. He’d been a slave far too long to allow anyone to tell him what to do once he was an adult. “Huh. I didn’t know that.” And I’ll do what I please once I get what I need from the Jedi, he added to himself.
Jinn nodded, not really invested in the conversation, but conditioned to be polite. “Yes. Not only does it make a Jedi more vulnerable, but most Jedi are on missions too much to maintain relationships outside the order.”
Hmmm Anakin thought. So relationships between Jedi are ok, huh. That’s why it’s acceptable to slobber all over your apprentice.
Skywalker’s subject reminded Jinn of Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon’s emotions were in turmoil, although this wasn’t apparent on the surface. I can’t allow this situation between Obi-Wan and I continue. I’m a diplomatic negotiator for Force’s sake! The Master chided himself. If I can’t even handle a rift with my own Padawan, then I’m truly pathetic.
His mind made up, Qui-Gon reached down and ruffled the Anakin’s hair. The previously innocent habit now had connotations that Skywalker couldn’t help but wonder about.
“I’m sorry, Anakin, I’d like to continue our talk, but I must go to the sleeping cabin and speak to my apprentice.” He made to get up.
“Oh,” Anakin began, “Obi-Wan isn’t there, Sir.” At this, Jinn’s eyes narrowed. The boy nodded and continued. “Yeah, he left there a couple hours ago. I was in the common room having a snack, and he passed me on his way to the Queen’s suite.” Now it was Anakin’s turn to be confused. “I was there for quite a while, Sir, until I came in here to see you, but Obi-Wan never came back. I wonder why he would be back there so long? Maybe there’s something needing fixing?” He trailed off.
Qui-Gon’s back went rigid and he frowned hugely. Oh yes, he thought, surprising himself with the strength of the anger that flooded him. There certainly is something needing fixing. That little trollop.
Anakin drew back at the expression on the large Master’s face. Uhhhh....Well...I let him know I like girls, now I think I’ll go find Jar-Jar... he said to himself. “Master Jinn?”
No response. Other than the big man’s hands clenching suddenly. “Uh. I’m going to go check on Jar-Jar, Sir. I know how you worry he might...mess up...something...” The boy was out the door before the last word was uttered. Anakin knew he was a brave boy, but he had NO desire to be anywhere near the Jedi Master at the moment.
He was already in the sleeping quarters by the time he realized just why the Master would have gotten so angry, and the revelation made the boy gasp. He thinks Obi-Wan and one of the handmaidens, or, maybe even the Queen herself, are kissing back there!
Considering his suspicions about the whole forced-affection situation between Masters and their apprentices, Anakin Skywalker began to doubt this whole Jedi thing. Even if something like that wouldn’t come into play for several years yet, the thought of repaying Qui-Gon for his training by...DOING things with him...
Maybe he could get a nice female Jedi for a Master. Still not a great situation, but, in Anakin’s opinion, much more of a fair trade.
Padme glanced down at the sleeping Jedi in her arms. So beautiful, she thought. And so hopelessly in love with his master. The young woman ran through their long talk in her head, and resolved once more to not take advantage of the remarkable young man lying beside her.
He had come to her in tears, relating a scene between himself and his master that had thoroughly unsettled him. Some kind of vision, from the not-too-distant future, from which he awoke to find himself hungrily kissing Master Jinn. Obi-Wan had described the look on the older man’s face as ‘shocked’ when he finally regained his control and pulled away.
Padme stroked Kenobi’s hair lightly, glad that the man had finally fallen into a fitful sleep after pouring his heart out to her. Relating to her all the years of lust and longing, admiration and respect, infatuation and, finally, love.
Her heart broke as he told her how he had saved himself for his master, allowing his trysts to progress to fairly heavy foreplay, but never allowing himself to complete the act of lovemaking. The Jedi had felt guilty for his earlier actions with her, he said, because his frustration had grown to the point where he decided to allow himself to finally give in to his body’s urges and take her right there on the floor. In his own words, he would have "fucked her mindless" had his master not interrupted them when he did.
Padme sighed ruefully. In truth, she would not have minded a one time fling with the gorgeous Jedi, but at the same time, the Queen did not relish the idea of being the one with which Obi-Wan broke his vow to himself. She found that she liked him very much, and knew that if they had actually had sex, he would most likely have avoided her thereafter. The Queen wanted more than that from him; she hoped they could actually become lasting friends.
Obi-Wan moved in her embrace slightly, muttering something under his breath, becoming agitated. Amidala ran her delicate fingers through his hair again, calming him as one would a distressed animal. She cooed nonsense at him, lulling him into restfulness once more.
Just as the man had calmed down, heavy, determined footsteps echoed through the hall outside. Padme’s brows drew together as she realized they were heading for her suite. Before the girl could contemplate anything further, she heard the locking mechanism disengage, and the door swished open to admit one very angry looking Jedi Master.
She stared at him. He stared back. After a few moments, the man’s eyes flicked down to his apprentice lying in her bed, hair mussed, tunics undone, face flushed. Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan for a few moments, then returned his glare to rest on the Queen. His lips set in a hard, furious line as Jinn strode stiffly to the side of the bed.
Padme knew the man would not harm her, but she shrank back slightly, intimidated. Her mouth opened to begin explaining that all they had done was talked, but the Jedi Master held his hand up, his message clear. Padme clamped her mouth shut and slipped her gaze to the younger man, still sleeping beside her.
Qui-Gon settled his eyes on Obi-Wan also, his expression softening a bit. Kenobi stirred slightly, prompting Qui-Gon to run his hand over his apprentice’s hair, muttering softly, "Sleep, my Obi-Wan." Immediately, the young man settled back down into a deep slumber, and he even began snoring softly.
The soft expression on the master’s face lasted only a moment, as he quickly returned to staring at Padme. His large hands rested on the bed as Qui-Gon leaned over his Padawan, bringing his leonine face level with the Queen’s. Mere inches apart, his intense blue eyes bored into hers, anger and fire dancing within them.
His gaze flicked to Obi-Wan, then back to the girl. He leaned in until his nose actually touched hers, and her immediate reaction was to pull away; she controlled her instincts and stood her ground. A growl emanated from Master Jinn’s throat, coalescing into one word:
"Mine."
All the moisture in Padme’s mouth evaporated at once. Qui-Gon backed up enough for him to observe her expression, to make sure she got his message.
Padme nodded slowly, her voice came out as a husky whisper. "Y-yours."
Qui-Gon glared at her a few heartbeats more, then quickly turned the blankets down and picked up his Padawan. He was out the door with Obi-Wan cradled in her arms before Padme could get her wits together.
Finally, she relaxed her posture, muscles aching from the sudden, intense tension of holding completely still while the Jedi Master staked his claim.
Shaking her head, all the Queen could think to say was, "Damn."
Anakin’s mouth gaped open as he watched Master Jinn stomp through the common area carrying an unconscious Obi-Wan in his arms. The master’s expression was thunderous, and the boy instinctively knew not to say a word.
Just as Anakin became sure he was in the clear, the huge Jedi turned to him and growled out a sentence.
“Stay away from our sleeping quarters until I say otherwise.”
Not waiting for an answer, or even an acknowledgment, Qui-Gon resumed his stalk towards their cabin. Obi-Wan’s head lolled bonelessly as the man turned the corner and was soon out of sight.
Skywalker let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. This is getting worse and worse! he thought. It’s bad enough that the master demands favors of Obi-Wan, but knocking him out to get what he wants...!
Anakin Skywalker was seriously beginning to think this Jedi thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Had he traded one form of slavery for another? He sighed heavily and laid his head in his hands, dejected.
A noise startled him, causing the boy to look up. Padme stood in the hallway, staring fixedly at the spot where the master and apprentice had exited. The girl’s face was pinked, hair disheveled, and features set in an expression of worry.
Suddenly, she shifted her gaze to Anakin. Realizing she had been observed, she flushed deeper. “Hello, Ani, I didn’t see you there.” Her voice was husky as she attempted to straighten her hair a bit.
“Hello, Padme.” His eyes narrowed, mind working furiously. Was I right earlier? Were Obi-Wan and Padme doing something back there? Is that why Qui-Gon looked so angry? The thought made Anakin feel a twinge of jealousy. He certainly didn’t want Obi-Wan Kenobi fooling around with his future wife. But, being a practical boy, he realized Padme was probably no stranger to kissing, and he had no reason to expect her to wait for him. Finding out just how much the young Jedi meant to her could be useful, though.
“Qui-Gon just told me I can’t go to our sleeping cabin until he comes and tells me otherwise.” He chose his words carefully, scanning her face for a reaction.
He got one. The girl’s face went white and her mouth opened, as if to say something, then closed as she thought the better of it. Gaining her composure, she smiled slightly. “Yes, well, I don’t think Obi-Wan is feeling very well.” Not a lie, she told herself. The man had been very upset.
Anakin waited for more from the girl. When nothing seemed forthcoming, he broke into her thoughts. “Well, since I can’t go there, and there’s nothing for me to do here...Can I come back to your quarters and maybe we could play holochess or sabaac?” And keep you away from Kenobi as much as I can, he added silently.
She seemed dazed, not quite paying attention to him, but evidently she had gotten the gist of his request. Her eyes still lingered on the door to the sleeping cabins as she gestured for him to get up. “Sure, yes, that’s a good idea. Come on, then, Ani...”
Reluctantly, Padme tore her eyes from the opposite end of the room, and turned back toward her own quarters. A sudden thought occurred to her.
“Ani, why don’t you find Jar-Jar and ask him to join us?” Padme wasn’t sure whether Qui-Gon had taken Obi-Wan back there to argue with him, talk with him, yell at him, ravish him, or any combination of these, but she did think it best to keep the Gungan clear of the Jedi Master. She could just see him going off on the hapless tagalong; Binks was clearly intimidated by the man, it wouldn’t take a lot to push that into abject terror.
Anakin nodded and hopped off his chair. “Okay, Padme. I saw Jar-Jar in the droid compartment, I’ll get him and meet you in the Queen’s suite?”
She nodded absently. “Yes, Ani, that will be fine. I will get us some juice and round up some of the other handmaidens. It will be a lot of fun.”
Anakin smirked at her. Yeah, fun. You sound like you’re arranging a funeral, he thought, though he would never say this out loud.
Anakin skipped off to find the Gungan as Padme walked back to her suite. She found this whole situation bothered her more than she cared to admit.
I just feel bad for Obi-Wan, that’s all. She said to herself. But even as she thought this, Padme knew she was lying. All her inner dialog going on about how she wanted to be ‘good friends’ with the young Jedi...While not exactly untrue, when she honestly examined her feelings, she had to admit there was much more to it.
The Queen knew that in the two days she had known Obi-Wan, somehow she felt more than just friendship for him. More than respect and admiration.
Somehow, she had fallen in love.
Not that it mattered. He was a Jedi, committed to the Republic; She was a Queen, committed to her people. And that was that.
It was not the first time she had felt the stirrings of love for another. Her love for Kenobi would fade gradually, just as her love for the Queen of a neighboring planet had faded two years earlier. She would always feel love for him, as she still felt love for Leonora, but it would be a love of fond memory, rather than a love of anguished wanting.
In this moment, however, she loved Obi-Wan fervently. She would do all she could to help him, to comfort him, to please him. Even if that meant encouraging him to be with someone else.
And if he instead chose to be with Padme, for what little time they had, then that would be fine with her, as well, for she knew she had not the strength to refuse him. And once her time here was over, she would return to Naboo and do her job, cherishing the memories of Obi-Wan as friend, or lover, or both..
Smiling faintly, Padme shook her head, chagrined. She had been brought up to be a politician, to put duty first. As she resolved to eventually get past this ache in her heart for Obi-Wan, she knew her training would triumph once more.
Qui-Gon stomped into the sleeping cabin that the Jedi had been sharing with Jar-Jar and Anakin. He placed a Force suggestion on the door that would quickly advise anyone who approached to ‘Go Away’. Blasted ship, he thought. What kind of people neglect to equip their ship’s sleeping quarters with mechanical locks?
Turning back to the cabin, Qui-Gon Force moved three of the four somewhat small beds together, then used another tendril to bind them as one. The result was a very large bed; spacious enough for him and Obi-Wan to have plenty of room.
Qui-Gon strode to the side of the newly constructed bed, and gently settled his apprentice down in the center.
Obi-Wan’s tunics were wrinkled and untied; his braid and knight’s tail were both undone. The long hair that he usually kept braided flowed silkily down to the top of his leggings. It was longer un-braided, and drew Qui-Gon’s eyes to his Padawan’s waistband. He stared at the slight bulge evident there.
Shaking himself from his lust-induced reverie, Qui-Gon got practical. The big man leaned over and gently removed Obi-Wan’s sash and tunics, then his boots and socks. He gathered the long swatch of hair and smoothed it with his fingers, then moved it to lay on the mattress beside his sleeping apprentice. He then ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s short hair, as well as the longer hair that comprised his tail.
Qui-Gon concluded his ministrations and gazed down at the man he had Forced to sleep and absconded with. Obi-Wan lie on his back, in only his leggings. His head turned to the side, perfect profile relaxed in slumber. Small snoring sounds emanated from him; he was very deeply asleep.
The Master spent several minutes just looking at Obi-Wan. Soaking in the sight of him, memorizing each line and contour of his body. Jinn had seen his Padawan in various states of undress numerous times, but until their sparring earlier, he had never really SEEN the man.
He is perfect, Qui-Gon thought. He took in the whole of his apprentice’s lithe, compact body. A bit below average height for a human male, Obi-Wan had always been broad of shoulder and narrow of hip. Qui Gon’s eyes started at the shiny ginger hair, traveling down to the graceful neck, lightly muscled shoulders and arms, golden chest with its patch of soft red-brown hair and small dusky nipples, slender waist that curved almost-but-not-quite femininely into strong hips..The rest was covered by cream-colored leggings, but Qui-Gon knew the delights hidden there would be perfection as well.
Qui-Gon realized he had gotten hard just looking at Obi-Wan. Looking, and imagining those legs wrapped around his waist; that face set in an expression of rapture, the uniquely beautiful eyes pleading with him for release, that elegant, husky voice calling out his name, begging him to take what he wanted.
Qui-Gon suddenly got angry once more, wondering if in fact Padme had witnessed all those things this very afternoon. He knew she was trolling for his Padawan. Had she succeeded? Had his own lack of control, his own lust-filled eyes and questing lips, driven Obi-Wan to Padme’s bed?
Enough of this! he thought harshly. Time to find out if my message to Padme is truth or merely wishful thinking. For as much as he desired to take Obi-Wan into his arms and plunder his body, Qui-Gon Jinn would never force or manipulate the young man into his bed.
Course of action resolved, Qui-Gon quickly disrobed until he was wearing only his undershorts. Not quite willing to go totally naked, he nevertheless wanted as little between him and Obi-Wan as possible. Thinking it over, he bent down and stripped Obi-Wan to his undershorts as well, taking only a moment to admire the long well-shaped legs.
At least we match, he thought absurdly as he slipped into the bed beside his apprentice. Steeling himself to wake Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon leaned in and took one kiss. Just one soft, lingering kiss, allowing himself to feel the silken skin and smell the scent that blossomed each time Obi-Wan exhaled...The spicy, citrus bouquet that surrounded his Padawan always. Breathing in deeply, luxuriating in the lips beneath his, Qui-Gon brought his hand up to stroke Obi-Wan’s cheek, just slightly stubbly, and altogether wonderful, beneath his palm.
One kiss, one caress, just in case you refuse me, my Obi-Wan.
Shoring up his resolve, Qui-Gon pulled away and settled himself over Obi-Wan. The lengths of their bodies felt made for each other. Qui-Gon slipped his legs to intermingle with Obi-Wan’s, and leaned in on his elbows to hold himself just above the young man, so that his face was a scant few inches from his Padawan’s.
One deep breath, and Qui-Gon Jinn took the plunge. He put enough Force in his voice to accomplish his goal, and spoke:
“Obi-Wan, Padawan, wake up.”
Obi-Wan Kenobi woke slowly, confused. A solid weight trapped him, making it hard to breathe. In his bleariness, it took his eyes a few moments to focus and realize the cause of the pressure on him: It was his master, draped heavily along the length of his body. Obi-Wan found he quite liked the sensation, even though the heaviness holding him down instinctively caused him no small amount of trepidation.
Taking a few minutes to assess his situation, Obi-Wan glanced around. His master's face filled his field of vision just above him. The larger man loomed over him, staring intently. Shifting his body a little, Obi-Wan could ascertain that both he and his master were clad only in undershorts. Curious, he thought. Not allowing himself to dwell on this somewhat disturbing fact, he turned his head to take in his surroundings.
Obviously, they were in their sleeping cabin on the Nubian Royal transport. Somehow, two or three beds had been shoved together, stable enough for the two men to lie on them. Scanning the area, Obi-Wan found traces of Force use, and intuitively knew his master had constructed this bed specifically so they would have plenty of room. This either pleased or worried Obi-Wan; he was not sure which.
Deciding this was just too inconceivable to be reality, Kenobi figured he must be having another of his Master-Qui-Gon-has-finally-taken-me-to-bed dreams. Although those lovely imaginings usually involved candles, soft music, and at least once scene in the bathtub, maybe his subconscious was just working with his current surroundings. Yes, a dream, he decided. Time to wake up, can't indulge myself all day. He closed his eyes once more, willing himself to wake up. Used to having extremely realistic seeming lucid dreams, the young man assumed he would open his eyes to see Padme lying next to him, or not, but he would be in the Queen's suite instead of this hastily constructed bed.
Kenobi re-opened one eye slowly, taking a peek. Qui-Gon was still there. Staring.
Finally convinced that no matter how improbable, this was indeed happening to him, Obi-Wan looked intently at his master. Something about the expression on Qui-Gon's face, particularly the strange new gleam in his eyes, gave Obi-Wan pause. He felt almost like prey being held down by some carnivorous beast, and his immediate reaction was to be... Perfectly... Still.
Qui-Gon stared back at him, eyes flashing brilliant blue, hair unbound and cascading around both of them to brush Obi-Wan's shoulders. Qui-Gon slowly grinned, not the slight smile he so rarely deigned to let slip, but an altogether different sort of expression. His lip curved up on one side, accompanied by a look in his eyes that Obi-Wan had never seen before. If this wasn't his master, Kenobi might use the term 'sultry,' but this WAS his master, and had he ever known Qui-Gon Jinn to give any hint of sexuality at all? Other than the man's every move exuding pheremones, you mean, Kenobi? Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at himself in his mind.
Ok, Obi-Wan finally said to himself, The weirdness has lasted long enough. This was Qui-Gon Jinn he was dealing with. A polite request to 'please remove yourself from my body' would surely do the trick. He wanted out of there; the situation was just getting too bizarre. First that kiss in the common room.... Obi-Wan sighed, recalling the warmth of Qui-Gon's lips on his. He quickly put that out of his mind, he knew he had to focus on the problem (Oh, come on, Kenobi, is it really a problem?) at hand. Obi-Wan wanted to be with his master, wanted to make love to him, but this scenario had never been in his dreams. He had no idea how he came to be here like this, but he was not yet willing to give up so much control. Drawing in a breath, Obi-Wan prepared to nicely ask his master to get off him.
Before any words could be said, one of Qui-Gon's large, calloused fingers shot up and pressed firmly against Obi-Wan's lips, in a classic 'be quiet' gesture. The surely-not-sultry look intensified, accompanied by an equally puzzling tone of voice; a tone of voice one might use with a lover.
"Hush, Obi-Wan."
A familiar small line formed between Kenobi's eyes, a sure sign of consternation. "B-but..."
Qui-Gon shook his head very slightly. "Shh."
Obi-Wan obeyed.
Qui-Gon's finger still covered his mouth. Obi-Wan poked his tongue out a fraction to swipe at his master’s finger, testing the waters, trying to gauge intent. Was his master angry with him, and using his greater size as an intimidation tactic? If so, Qui-Gon had never used this particular method before, and it seemed unlike him to do so now. Or was this some kind of extreme flirting that Obi-Wan had not yet heard about, the sexual equivalent of tying oneself to a large rubber band and jumping off a cliff?
Whatever the man's intention, he showed no reaction to Obi-Wan’s tongue experiment.
When Qui-Gon spoke again, his voice was conversationally mild, only a slight edge of sensual huskiness. "Now, Obi-Wan, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen. Understood?" As he spoke, the small movements of his head sent strands of hair drifting over Obi-Wan's face, tickling his nose.
Obi-Wan shook his head a bit to dislodge the hair. Qui-Gon's expression turned vaguely displeased, and Obi-Wan realized his master had interpreted his head movement as a negative answer. Swift to correct the misconception, he forgot the earlier command to be quiet. Obi-Wan tried to speak, in spite of the finger held over his lips. "I, I mean, y-ye-"
The finger suddenly pressed hard against his top lip, and Obi-Wan winced. "Don't. Speak. A nod will do." Qui-Gon leaned in ever so much closer. Their noses were almost touching. Not backing up, Qui-Gon ran his finger back and forth over his Padawan's lips. It dipped into Obi-Wan's mouth, emerging wet, then ran over his lips again, leaving them moist and parted. Obi-Wan's breath came faster and his eyes widened as his master's head lowered just enough to brush their mouths together. The slippery warmth of Qui-Gon's tongue slid inside, and without thought he found himself leaning up to allow even more access. Not going so far as to take any other action, Obi-Wan lied still and relaxed while Qui-Gon kissed him thoroughly.
The kiss escalated rapidly, becoming hungry and demanding. Qui-Gon pressed him down into the mattress, the pressure on his lips hard enough to leave puffy bruises, he was sure. As odd as all this was, Obi-Wan found himself enjoying it. Not what he had wanted, not ‘romantic’ by any definition of the word, but hot and wet and passionate... He heard Qui-Gon moan and returned the sound enthusiastically, their sounds of desire meeting and mingling into one. Obi-Wan was certain he had never been so completely, urgently kissed by anyone in his entire life. Objections thrown aside, he allowed himself to just lie back and enjoy it. All too soon, he felt Qui Gon begin to withdraw, and he whimpered pathetically.
Qui-Gon reluctantly pulled away from Obi-Wan, panting. He clasped his apprentice's shoulders, pushing the young man back as Obi-Wan attempted to prolong the kiss by moving up with him. Obi-Wan let out a soft noise of confusion and dismay. He really does desire me, Qui-Gon realized.
Finishing the kiss with an incongruously playful lick to the end of Obi-Wan's nose, Qui-Gon rose back on his arms and gazed down at his apprentice. Obi-Wan's face was flushed now, his breathing fast, and his eyes sparkled with heat. Qui-Gon repeated his question. "Do you understand, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan inhaled deeply in an attempt to slow his breathing. Understand? Understand what? His mind went blank, momentarily stunned by the surreal situation he found himself in. Once Obi-Wan felt he had regained some semblance of control over his body, he remembered: Qui is going to talk, I am going to listen and keep quiet. Gazing steadily up at his master for a moment, he then closed his eyes and nodded slowly, wondering exactly what it was he was getting himself into.
"Good. Now, let's begin again." As Qui-Gon spoke, he began to play idly with the loose swatch of hair that would normally be Obi-Wan's braid, rubbing it between his fingers, twirling it, stroking it. Obi-Wan suddenly realized the sheer size of his master, how easily he could be overpowered by this huge man. If he had any doubts as to Qui-Gon's innate goodness, he would be worried. The big man above him shifted, and Obi-Wan felt a very prominent erection poke his thigh, a tiny bit of moisture seeping through his undershorts to chill his skin. Ok, so I am a tiny bit worried, he clarified to himself. But only because Qui-Gon is acting so strangely.
Between lightly-clad flesh rubbing against his upper leg and Qui-Gon's hand fiddling in his hair, Obi-Wan's body couldn't help but react. He felt his own arousal stirring, and his breathing quickened once more as he imagined what his master might be planning to do to him. This was not exactly the encounter he had hoped for all these years, but Obi-Wan was starting to think candles and soft music were over-rated, anyway.
Obi-Wan's flesh hardened against his master, and Qui-Gon’s expression turned even more predatory. His voice became a husky growl that sent shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. Obi-Wan squirmed slightly, positioning himself so that his rapidly rising erection nuzzled up to Qui-Gon's. His master nodded in approval, grinding down into him purposefully.
Qui-Gon continued this movement, teasingly swiveling his hips and then withdrawing, as he spoke. "I've been watching you, Obi-Wan." He leaned in, his mouth settling next to Obi-Wan's ear. "Have you noticed?" His tongue flicked out to lick Obi-Wan's tantalizing earlobe.
Obi-Wan twitched beneath him, the contact sending a shiver straight to his cock.
Qui-Gon congratulated himself mentally, pleased with how this seduction was progressing. He straightened back up and fixed his gaze on Obi-Wan, waiting for an answer.
Qui-Gon had been watching him? He'd been watching Qui-Gon for years; it had never occurred to Obi-Wan to look for signs that his master might watch back. Besides, it's a master's JOB to watch his Padawan, he thought, stubbornly. Qui-Gon wasn't a master for nothing; he could easily hide the fact that he had been ogling his apprentice for the last few days.
Qui-Gon cleared his throat, and Obi-Wan realized he was expected to give an answer.
Unsure if he was 'allowed' to speak yet, Obi-Wan took the safe route, and merely shook his head. I'm surprised I can give any coherent answer at all, with him grinding into me like this, he groused. What kind of person carries on a Q and A session during sex? Despite his arousal, Obi-Wan was becoming annoyed.
Qui-Gon's look turned thoughtful, and Obi-Wan moaned in frustration as his master's movement ceased. "Interesting. I should think I trained you to be more observant, my Padawan. I daresay your little Nubian playmate noticed." This last was said in a clipped, almost angry tone.
Obi-Wan's face flushed even darker, a flush of guilt and embarrassment rather than arousal.
Qui-Gon smiled to himself, perversely pleased to have called his apprentice on his extra-curricular activities. Ah, so I HAVE hit upon something there...
The younger man began to shift in an attempt to sit up and explain, but Qui-Gon pressed him back down.
"That, however, is a discussion for another time, my Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's hips moved again, rocking forward and back, sliding his cloth-covered erection along Obi-Wan's own heated arousal. He leaned down to capture Obi-Wan's lips in a rough, demanding kiss, all sweetness gone now, tongue delving deeply, teeth scraping sensitive flesh. Qui-Gon locked his mouth over his Padawan's, thrusting his tongue in and out of his apprentice's mouth in time with his hips.
Obi-Wan's need to explain his relationship with Padme vanished; he lost himself in the feeling of Qui-Gon's cock moving against his, Qui-Gon's mouth enveloping his own. Something in his brain sparked and Obi-Wan found himself devouring Qui-Gon back, thrusting his hips up in eager anticipation. Insistent groans erupted from somewhere deep in his throat as he breathed heavily through his nose.
Obi-Wan's need and desire for his master had never been like this before: All his visions had been soft and gentle. What was once a loving wish to pleasure Qui-Gon had suddenly become an insistent, animalistic craving. Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to be taken, ravished, roughly and thoroughly. Fuck the candles, he thought. This is better.
Qui-Gon drew back from the kiss and slowed his hips. Don't want to go this fast. It took all his effort to restrain himself from just flipping Obi-Wan over and pounding into him. But that would not do; he had an agenda, here. Qui-Gon forced himself to back off and calm down.
Obi-Wan moaned, a lost, disoriented sound.
Qui-Gon’s hand had been clenched in Obi-Wan’s un-braided hair all this time. It now moved up to skim along his cheek. Obi-Wan sighed at the contact, an unexpected gesture of affection after the wild abandon of a moment earlier.
"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon rasped out, " I want you." Qui-Gon sat up over Obi-Wan, stared down at him. His knees pressed into Obi-Wan's sides, letting the younger man know who was in control. Qui-Gon arched his neck back and shook his hair out, the mass of brown and silver settling on his shoulder and down his back as he stilled, gloriously touchable.
Obi-Wan ached to run his fingers through it.
Qui-Gon stretched, catlike, showing the taut muscles of his chest. He brought his hands down to rest on either side of his own neck, then slid them down to tease at his nipples. "I want to touch you." Qui-Gon closed his eyes and continued to rub his chest.
This blatant display of sexuality stunned Obi-Wan, and he licked his lips, imagining those hands caressing him like that.
Qui-Gon ran his hands down his own body lazily, finally reaching the point where his flesh met Obi-Wan's. He dipped his fingers into the waistband of his undershorts, taking a few moments to fondle his heavy erection. Withdrawing his hands, fingertips glazed with pre-cum, Qui-Gon leaned forward to draw circles around Obi-Wan's nipples.
The combination of the sight of his master doing this, and the feeling of slick fingers teasing him, tweaking him, was almost too much for Obi-Wan. He moaned loudly and thrust his hips up, causing his master to bounce on top of him. Obi-Wan panted and groaned as pleasure flooded him.
Qui-Gon bore down, shifting his weight to still his captive. "I want to taste you." Qui-Gon bent down to Obi-Wan's chest and used the point of his tongue to circle one nipple, licking the fluid away. The bitter taste of himself combined with the salty tang of Obi-Wan's sweat-sheened skin delighted Qui-Gon.
This slow seduction was becoming very hard to maintain; he wanted Obi-Wan NOW.
Qui-Gon smiled against his Padawan’s skin as Obi-Wan's soft noises rose in pitch and urgency. When Qui-Gon raised his head to move on to Obi-Wan's other nipple, he stole a glance up to see the expression of rapture on his Padawan's face.
Truly beautiful, the older man thought. He scarcely could believe that he had pleased the fates enough to be allowed to touch and lick the young, devastatingly gorgeous man beneath him.
“I want be touched by you,” Qui-Gon continued. He reached down and brought one of Obi-Wan’s hands up, sliding it beneath his undershorts to gently graze the tip of his cock. Making sure Obi-Wan’s fingers had collected an adequate amount of fluid, Qui-Gon gently guided his apprentice’s hand to his own chest. Bringing Obi-Wan’s fingers up to his nipple, he set them to circle the nub of flesh as he had so recently done to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan had never been a slow learner. He batted Qui-Gon’s hand away from his own and continued to spread the pre-cum onto his master’s chest. Satisfied with his progress, he moved on to the second nipple, coating it.
Qui-Gon allowed his Padawan to take over for a short amount of time. He relaxed his arms, letting himself luxuriate in the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands running over his sensitive nipples. Smiling slightly, Qui-Gon sighed, content. After a few moments, he felt it time to move on.
Qui-Gon slowly lifted his hands, taking Obi-Wan’s smaller ones into his own. He lowered both down to their sides, and leaned in to whisper in Obi-Wan’s ear.
“I want to be tasted by you." As he said this, Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan’s shoulders and pulled them both into a sitting position. He gently guided Obi-Wan’s head to his chest, assuming that his quick student would know what to do next.
He wasn’t disappointed. Obi-Wan took a moment to lick his lips, then bowed his head to hesitantly lick his master’s chest. His tongue circled Qui-Gon’s stiff nipple, reveling in the bitter, sweaty taste that flooded his mouth. Wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon’s waist, he pulled the other man hard against him and began to suck in earnest. The feel of Qui-Gon’s very hard cock poking the skin of his belly notched his arousal even higher, and Obi-Wan moaned as he alternately bit and soothed his master’s flesh.
Qui-Gon couldn’t help but moan enthusiastically as his apprentice went to work on him. Damn! he thought, hazily, Where did he learn to use his mouth like this? A brief surge of jealousy swiftly dissipated as Obi-Wan moved on to his other nipple and a new wave of pleasure washed through him. He brought his hands up to cradle Obi-Wan’s head; he felt the soft hair of his apprentice’s unbound knight’s tail and grasped it, holding Obi-Wan closer to him. His hips made small rocking motions, grinding his erection against Obi-Wan’s stomach. Qui-Gon’s moans had merged into one continuous sound of need and longing, all thought eradicated by his body’s need for release.
Obi-Wan couldn’t take it anymore. Something had to give, and soon. He nipped Qui-Gon one last time, then raised his flushed face to his master, intending to beg the man to take him, use him, fuck him, just end this sweet torment and DO IT already.
(continued in part 3)