Summary: This part is focused on Obi-Wan as a prostitute.
"Secrets" 2b/2
By the time Obi-Wan exited the bathroom, Qui-Gon had dressed
and left, a datapad being all that told him of where his Master
had gone. Obi-Wan sighed. He still hadn't worked out how he was
going to get his Master to notice him, and now neither of them
would see each other for the entire day so he would have no
further chances soon.
//I suppose I may just have to hope that some of my actions
affected him and he just didn't let on that they did// he
thought, slightly optimistic at the prospect. //At least I'm
working tonight. That should wear off some extra energy// he
conceded.
He dressed casually, re-read the datapad to memorize his list
of duties for the day, sighed once more, then left the room.
Qui-Gon sat with polite interest as he listened to the usual
run of diplomatic talks take place around him. He'd in fact
been sitting there since he'd left Obi-Wan in the morning, and
now, eight hours later, his interest was fast wearing thin.
//Obi-Wan// he thought to himself. There was something
different about the boy he couldn't quite put a finger on.
//And he's going out with friends tonight so I won't be able to
study this further, then// he remembered. He shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. //I'm sure it's nothing. I'll
meditate on it later//
His thoughts were interrupted as Yoda approached him and told
him to make a trip over to a different district of Coruscant to
witness a signing of some official document or another. Qui-Gon
sighed and rose from his seat, tightly pulled his robes around
himself and left the room.
It was dark by the time the signing was completed, and not a
transport was in sight to bring him back to the Temple. He
conceded that he'd have to walk. No one bothered him as he made
his way through some of the less reputable parts of the city,
and he was not surprised. After all, he was obviously a Jedi,
so no one would make the mistake of disturbing him. He passed
club after club as he went through the main Night Life District
of Coruscant, his eyes taking in those waiting in queues to
enter, and those already inside who could be seen through the
doorways.
His feet stopped walking outside what seemed to be a very
popular club, almost before his brain registered surprise.
//Is that Obi-Wan?!// he thought in shock as he looked
through the doorway, staring at the figure in the centre of the
room. Wearing illegally tight black leather pants, and an
equally tight black top, Obi-Wan was gyrating his hips
incredibly seductively while rubbing himself against four men
who were standing in a close circle around him. Low, pounding
music was emanating from the speakers on the walls, and Qui-Gon
could almost touch the atmosphere it was so thick with sex.
"What is he doing?!" Qui-Gon mumbled to himself, while staring
wide-eyed at his now topless Padawan. His mind gave him a bit
of a whispered explanation as he noted the name of the club and
other tell-tale clues. //Well, ok, I know what he's doing, but
why is he doing it?//
He suddenly realised that he had been staring open-mouthed at
his Padawan for a suspiciously long amount of time. //I should
leave// he thought. //By the Force, he's got his hand down his
pants!//
Quickly he shook his head and began a quick bout of breathing
exercises.
//What am I doing?// he reprimanded himself. //I find out my
Padawan's prostituting himself, and all I can do is stare as he
teases customers!//
Qui-Gon stood for a few moments longer, unsure of whether to
confront Obi-Wan then or just leave to ponder the inevitable
talk he was going to have to have later. He decided on the
latter option and after wrapping his robes tightly around him,
he continued on his way back to the Jedi Temple.
Qui-Gon paced their room for a while after returning, unsure of
how he was going to approach the matter when his Padawan
returned. After about half an hour's deep thinking, it suddenly
occurred to him that if Obi-Wan was prostituting himself, then
it would be unlikely that he would be home at a reasonable hour
for them to have a talk. It was also likely that he would be in
no condition to do anything but sleep. //Come to think of it//
he thought, //Obi-Wan often comes home in the early hours of
the morning// The pieces of the puzzle began fitting together.
//This isn't a new occupation for him!// he suddenly realised.
//By the Force! He's been returning home late for a few
years now!//
He began pacing the room again.
"I suppose that fact alone doesn't necessarily presuppose he's
been prostituting himself all that time," he mumbled out loud
as he thought it over. "I mean, he's always been so innocent
and well...just the perfect example of a Jedi Padawan. How on
earth did he even find out about such a way of living?" The
thoughts churned over in his head as he kept up his pacing.
"How did he get started? Did he meet someone? Did he think he
needed the money? Maybe he was forced into it or tricked or he
felt he had no choice!"
He paused in his pacing and conceded that the last option was
quite unlikely, considering that it was near impossible to
force or trick a Jedi into doing anything. And anyway, Obi-Wan
definitely was a willing participant in what he was doing with
those men. He had them around his little finger, if
anything.
"Should I tell the Council?" he wondered. "I think I'll talk
with him first, and then the Council should definitely be
notified."
His decision made, he resigned to turning in for the night. He
ate, showered, and then climbed into bed, unsure of how much
sleep he was going to get while his mind had so many unanswered
questions swimming around it. Surprisingly enough, he found
sleep relatively easily and didn't even hear when his Padawan
came home, showered, and joined him in bed.
The next morning, Qui-Gon once again awoke to the feel of
Obi-Wan's erection pressed into his thigh. Everything was
different this time. No longer did he casually think of
accepting it was a natural bodily action for the time of day.
This time, he was instantly reminded of what he had witnessed
the night before, and suddenly felt very embarrassed and
awkward for being so close to...such an active organ. As he
tried to move away, he accidentally bumped Obi-Wan and the
young man deeply breathed in his first waking breath of the
morning and stretched. And stretched. By the time he'd
stretched every bone in his body, he'd managed to kick the
sheets fully off himself and was now lying fully naked under
his Master's gaze. Qui-Gon averted his eyes and re-positioned
himself on the bed.
"Good morning, Padawan," he greeted, as formally as possible.
"Good morning, Master," replied Obi-Wan, a smile on his lips as
he pulled himself into a sitting position against the pillows.
"Don't you want to get dressed?" Qui-Gon asked a little too
quickly.
"What's the hurry, Master?" replied Obi-Wan as he slid off the
bed and wandered with a slight swagger of his hips over to the
table containing the bowl of fruit. He reached for the banana.
"No!" exclaimed Qui-Gon, a little too emphatically.
Obi-Wan shot him a puzzled look. "Do you not wish me to eat
bananas any more, Master?" he asked, a slightly confused smile
visible on his face.
"There's other fruit in the bowl, and you had a banana
yesterday, Padawan," replied Qui-Gon, knowing he was handling
the whole situation badly.
"I did have one yesterday, and I'd like another one today,"
said Obi-Wan, as he fingered the skin of the fruit. "I like
bananas, Master. You know that. Can't get enough of them," he
added with what could have been seen as a slight grin.
"Yes, I've noticed that, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied in what he
hoped was a disapproving tone of voice.
Obi-Wan wandered over to his Master, banana still in hand, and
settled on the bed. "I'm starting to get the feeling that we're
talking about different things, Master," he commented, while
slowly taking the end of the newly peeled fruit in his mouth
and taking a delicate nip of the end.
Qui-Gon swallowed. //How on earth did I miss this
behaviour before!// he thought to himself, quite amazed at how
unobservant he must have been. //Everything about him screams
sex!//
"You are quite right," he admitted after taking a deep breath.
"We must talk."
Obi-Wan nodded, still confused, but he settled into the pillows
of the bed and continued eating the banana as he did so.
"And put the banana down for the moment, would you?" ordered
Qui-Gon, feeling he didn't need the distraction at this time.
He allowed himself another deep breath.
"Obi-Wan."
"Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon thought the only way to approach this was to be direct.
"I saw you last night. In a brothel. And it didn't look like
you were the customer."
Silence filled the room as Obi-Wan contemplated this knowledge.
He had wanted to seduce his Master, and as of a few seconds ago
he felt the banana trick was finally working. Yet now he
realised that Qui-Gon probably only noticed it as he knew of
his other occupation. He wasn't sure yet whether that was a
good or a bad thing.
"Obi-Wan," repeated Qui-Gon, interrupting his thoughts. "Would
you like to respond to me?"
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan began, and then sighed deeply. "And, no
Master, I wasn't the customer."
Qui-Gon nodded as though only now fully accepting the truth. He
lifted himself off the bed and walked over to fetch his robes,
feeling strangely self-conscious under the eyes of his Padawan.
"I have questions, Obi-Wan," he said finally, after settling at
the food table.
"Yes, Master."
"I want the truth, too."
"Of course, Master."
Qui-Gon paused, unsure of where to start. The obvious question
seemed to present itself first.
"Why?"
Obi-Wan smiled, but only slightly as he wasn't sure if and to
what degree he was in trouble yet. He slid off the bed,
wandered over to his Master and made as if to sit down, but
Qui-Gon put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
"Get dressed first, Obi-Wan."
"Does my nudity offend you, Master?" asked Obi-Wan, with a
careful look of innocence. "I thought such things are not an
issue for Jedi. Nature is beauty, after all."
Qui-Gon held onto his Padawan's arm for a moment longer and
then released it. Obi-Wan had a point. The sight of his
Padawan's naked body shouldn't fluster him. He'd seen it
before, after all.
"Sit, then," he said, motioning to the chair opposite him, and
Obi-Wan slid himself into the chair offered. "Now tell me why
you prostitute yourself," he said, repeating his earlier
question.
"I enjoy it, Master," replied Obi-Wan, settling back in his
chair. "I have no other excuse."
"Enjoyment is not an excuse, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon reprimanded.
"You are Jedi and there are codes of conduct you must follow. I
don't believe prostitution is mentioned as an appropriate one,"
he finished with light sarcasm.
"I know, Master," replied Obi-Wan as he began picking at the
rest of the fruit bowl. "I enjoy the people and the lifestyle
and I find it a good release from the stresses of Jedi life,"
he said, expanding on his previous explanation.
"It is dangerous, Padawan," tried Qui-Gon.
"I am Jedi, Master," responded Obi-Wan. "I can protect myself."
Qui-Gon sighed and tried a different question.
"How long have you been doing this for?"
"A few years, Master," Obi-Wan replied, as he ate a cherry out
of the fruit bowl.
Qui-Gon nodded and decided to ask the rest of his questions
before examining each one in more detail.
"How did you get started, did you need the money, and would you
stop sucking the cherry?"
"I received an offer, no I didn't need the money, and this is
how I eat cherries, Master."
Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, feeling that this wasn't
exactly how he expected the conversation to go.
"Just tell me everything I want to know, would you Obi-Wan?" he
said, as he settled back.
"Yes Master," Obi-Wan replied as he swallowed the cherry. "A
few years ago a friend of mine, Jeproh, approached me and asked
me to sleep with him. I wasn't ready for dating at that stage
as I'd just finished a relationship with Fermor-" He paused
while his Master acknowledged the name. It was a boy Obi-Wan
had brought home often though he knew they wouldn't last.
"Anyway," continued Obi-Wan. "I told him as much, and Jeproh
suggested casual sex. I agreed as I liked him and thought it
was a good option."
"Yet he did not pay you at this time?" interrupted Qui-Gon.
"No, two friends of his were the first to pay me," replied
Obi-Wan. His Master raised an eyebrow and Obi-Wan grinned as he
explained. "On separate occasions, Master. Anyway, Jeproh, his
friend Garl, and I had enjoyed a night at a club, and Jeproh
had left early. Later when Garl and I were walking home, we
passed an advertisement outside a building saying that a band I
liked was playing within. We both were excited and decided to
enter but it was at that time I realised I had no money on me
to cover the price of the entry ticket. Garl offered to pay for
me, but as I started to refuse he said that I could pay him
back later. I'd replied that I had no money to do so, and he
said he could think of a different way to repay the debt."
"Prostituting yourself," said Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan nodded. "I
thought you said you didn't need the money?"
"That was more an exchange," Obi-Wan replied. "I never went
looking for clients specifically because I needed money."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Continue," he instructed, and Obi-Wan did so.
"That was the first time I'd exchanged sex for money, but I'd
considered it a one off until the next night when I saw Garl
again and he'd introduced me to a friend of his, saying that
this boy was interested in sleeping with me and was willing to
pay. I felt unsure about it as I wasn't repaying a debt this
time, but they both managed to talk me into it and I ended up
going home with Garl's friend."
"And you saw them both again after that?" asked Qui-Gon. "Money
for sex?"
"Yes," admitted Obi-Wan. "I felt no problem with it, and soon I
found I'd developed a name for myself and other people came to
hire me. I accepted each one, until finally there were too many
and I needed to timetable them all in for appointments. I
suppose that's when I first considered it a formal business."
"I saw you at a brothel, though," noted Qui-Gon. "When did you
begin work there?"
"After I'd built quite a reputation for myself," Obi-Wan
replied matter-of-factly, Qui-Gon noting approvingly that pride
did not figure in his response. "The manager of the club
actually approached me and made an offer. I accepted as it
offered me a place to bring my clients, especially those for
whom it was inconvenient to use their own houses all the time."
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his
head. "And that's pretty much it, Master," he concluded. "I
still work there and I love meeting all the new people it
brings me."
There was a pause as Qui-Gon absorbed all the information he
had just received and came to a decision.
"Now I understand your reasons, Obi-Wan," he began. "So now you
must hear my response."
Obi-Wan nodded as he reached for a lone cucumber he'd just
discovered lying at the bottom of the bowl from his dinner the
night before.
"Drop the cucumber, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon ordered. "Just keep your
hands in your lap. On you knees, actually," he amended quickly,
foreseeing problems with his first command. Obi-Wan did as he
was told.
"Now," Qui-Gon began. "The explanation you just gave will help
your case, but I still cannot approve. You are a Jedi and we
have a reputation to uphold. That cannot be done while you are
prostituting yourself publicly while off-duty. The council will
have to be notified and then we will make a decision as to how
to deal with this. We will go to them now," he concluded as he
rose from his chair. He finished dressing himself and made for
the door, Obi-Wan close on his heels. He paused at the entrance
to their room and rolled his eyes.
"Get dressed first, Obi-Wan."
"Sorry, Master."
"Master Yo-"
Yoda shushed him with a wave of his hand, as Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan stood before the council which had already been in
session.
"Wait, it can, yes?" Yoda said, not really meaning it as a
question. "Mission you must leave on now."
"Now, Master Yoda?" asked Obi-Wan in surprise and slight
relief.
"Now you must go. Information you will need. Transport, I have
left it on," Yoda said as he shooed them out of the room.
"But, Ma-"
"Later, we will talk," interrupted the little Jedi
Master. "Now you will go!"
"Yes Master," replied Qui-Gon as he turned and left the room,
Obi-Wan close on his heels. The young Padawan spent half the
walk down the corridor pondering in amusement how similar
Qui-Gon and Yoda's relationship was to Qui-Gon and his.
//I see where he got his habit of interrupting and ordering me
around// he thought to himself, desperately hoping he'd
shielded that thought well enough. Turning his head to look at
his Master, Qui-Gon seemed too lost in his own thoughts to
notice.
"We will bring this to them later, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said,
instead. "And don't think I haven't noticed that walk you're
doing. It won't work on me."
Obi-Wan grinned.
//If you noticed it then it already has// he thought to himself
as he carefully took the hip movements up one level.
"Obi-Wan..." his master growled warningly.
"Sorry, Master," Obi-Wan replied and attempted a normal walk,
which to Qui-Gon's eyes still seemed seductive.
The trip to the nearby planet of Lamier was fairly uneventful,
both Master and Padawan busy pouring over the necessary
information on the discussions they needed to learn before
arriving. King Gamair and his Head Diplomat, Barair greeted
them immediately upon arrival. They were brought to the main
Hall to begin discussions.
Two days of heavy talks took place after that, Qui-Gon allowing
Obi-Wan to sit out of most of the discussions and instead to
survey the planet for any information that could help them.
Obi-Wan did as requested, and began knowing the locals well,
Qui-Gon soon allowing him more time to himself while the
negotiations were being rounded up after successful
discussions. Finally, it was time to complete the final treaty.
"I should best wait for my Padawan before we sign the treaty,"
said Qui-Gon, as he sat next to Barair at the huge table in the
Hall. Shifting uncomfortably on his chair he continued on. "And
I also believe the King should be present."
The head diplomat twitched his left eye ever so slightly at the
mention of this. This motion did not pass Qui-Gon by.
"Obi-Wan is in the gardens, is he not?" he asked. "And the king
in his chamber?"
After the past few days, Qui-Gon was unsure of what to believe
Obi-Wan's true motives for doing anything were. He'd seen that
facial twitch before on many men and women, he now realised.
Sometimes instead of a twitch it was a look of their eyes,
sometimes a sharp intake of breath, but it all meant the same
thing: that they knew of Obi-Wan's profession and didn't wish
the fact to be discovered.
"Where is Obi-Wan?" he asked carefully, letting a hint of
warning into his voice.
The diplomat began to look worried, obviously unsure of where
he stood in these matters.
"The King wished..." he began, but stopped as Qui-Gon rose
swiftly from his chair and was in front of him in less than a
second.
"Tell me what is going on, Barair," he half-whispered,
half-growled. "What is my Padawan doing and what do you know of
it?"
The Diplomat looked like a trapped animal, and for a moment
Qui-Gon felt sorry for him, knowing that he shouldn't be acting
so emotionally against the man. Yet he didn't have the interest
to bother letting the man skim around the truth, so he grabbed
him lightly but firmly by the shoulders and repeated his
question.
"What is my Padawan doing, Barair, and what do you know of it?"
"He's...they..." the Diplomat began, stumbling over his words.
He took a deep breath and began in a rush. "Most planets within
the federation, and some out, know of...your Padawan..."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow and motioned for the man to continue.
"You are, of course, always requested to precede over Talks as
your talent in discussions is well famed," Barair added quickly
so as not to offend the Jedi Master. "Obi-Wan...it is well
known...handles the...less formal side of negotiations. Less
talking, more action," he added unnecessarily, as Qui-Gon had
already picked up what was being suggested.
"Are you telling me that half the reason planets call myself
and my Padawan in is to experience the...'negotiation
techniques' of Obi-Wan?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
Visions of the hundreds of other missions Obi-Wan and he had
attended to, played across his mind. All the times when he'd
dealt with the actual talks himself and left obi-Wan to his own
devices. All the times when negotiations seemed to be going
miraculously well and he'd ruled it off to luck. All the times
when Obi-Wan had acted suitably surprised when he'd told him of
their success in various Talks...
Suitably surprised, actually. Just the perfect level of
surprise that would be expected of a Padawan under such
circumstances.
And then there were all the friends he'd made on each world.
All the teary good-byes and long hugs. He'd always wondered how
Obi-Wan could make such close friends in such short amounts of
time. He'd always ruled it off to natural talent.
Natural talent. Yes, that was exactly what it was.
The man squirmed under Qui-Gon's heavy grip, and the hands
tightened ever so slightly on his shoulders.
"Obi-Wan is with the King, is he?" Qui-Gon asked lightly,
though the Diplomat was not fooled. "You are here to deal
with...what, then?"
Barair clearly did not want to answer, but upon seeing the look
in Qui-Gon's eyes, he spoke again.
"Our Talks are not wasted, Master Qui-Gon," he began quickly.
"We deal with the...necessary tediums of drawing up such
treaties, and for all formal reasons, your help is invaluable.
Obi-Wan..."
"Obi-Wan seals the deal," Qui-Gon interjected with a slight
sigh. "Both my diplomatic skills, and his...skills of
persuasion, must be approved before the deal is closed, am I
right?"
Barair nodded. "Please do not be angry at your Padawan," he
said. "I have heard of many negotiations which have been
bettered by his assistance. If he can see any way in which to
further help a planet, then he will work to persuade the leader
into making his pleas turn to action. He is a Jedi, after all."
"Yes, he is a Jedi," replied Qui-Gon, mimicking Barair's
words, though putting a difference emphasis on them. He left
his words hanging and turned to leave the room. "Where is the
King and Obi-Wan now?" he asked as he strode out.
"In the King's suite," replied Barair, hoping he had at least
persuaded the Jedi Master of the good intentions of his
Padawan.
He could have added no further plea even had he wanted to, as
Qui-Gon had left the room.
(continued in the next post...)
===== Yoda's Basic Flirtation Class: "Shake booty you must!!!!
Get nookie, you will!!"
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He was nearly outside the King's suite when he heard a loud
laugh echo down the corridor. It was his Padawan, and the laugh
was followed by a yelp, a slapping sound, and them more
laughter, ending in a low sexual growl emanating from the King.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and placed his hand on the handle of
the door. Before he turned it he paused as he heard the end of
a conversation Obi-Wan and the King must have been having.
"Haven't I agreed to enough yet, Obi-Wan?"
A chuckle.
"I have endless stamina...for negotiations."
Returned laughter.
"Fine, Obi-Wan, the housing areas of the outside boundaries
will be repaired to livable conditions."
"And the farms of the workers...? The water supply...?"
A low moan.
"Ok, Obi-Wan! They will be fixed too, just finish it!"
Laughter, followed by the loud, expressive sound of the King
orgasming.
Qui-Gon turned the handle to the room and pushed open the door.
The King and Obi-Wan were lying naked on the bed, many trays of
food surrounding them...and some food on them. Qui-Gon felt a
twinge of embarrassment at having burst in on the scene, but he
composed himself and met the surprised look of his Padawan.
"Obi-Wan."
One word was all he said, but the young Padawan could tell much
more from his expression.
"You know," he replied, nodding his acceptance. The King lying
next to him, quite spent, began to look worried as he
contemplated what this would mean for the negotiations.
"Master Jinn, Obi-Wan was just trying to help..." the King
began but Qui-Gon cut him off.
"I appreciate your effort to defend my Padawan's actions, your
highness, and do not fear - this situation will not harm the
treaty."
Gamair breathed a sigh of relief, but then his expression
tensed again.
"What of the negotiations that Obi-Wan and I have just
now...discussed...?"
Before Qui-Gon could reply, Obi-Wan interrupted.
"Master. I know you'll wish to discuss what I have been doing,
but please do not let your feelings cloud your judgment. We
have both made great progress in helping his planet, so please
allow the negotiations that Gamair and I have discussed to be
included in the final treaty."
His Master took a deep breath and calmed his thoughts. Of
course, Obi-Wan was right. He could deal with his Padawan
later, but for now the planet must be of primary concern.
"They will be included," he allowed, turning to the King. "But
we are to leave as soon as the final laws are drawn up, so that
my Padawan and I can discuss his...negotiation techniques."
The King nodded.
"I understand, and I thank you deeply. You have helped our
planet immensely. Both you and Obi-Wan," he added, smiling at
the young man as he spoke. "I hope that relations between us
have not been damaged in any way...?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, allowing the king a small smile.
"This is a personal issue," he said, waving a hand in Obi-Wan's
direction. "Nothing else has changed."
Gamair looked very relieved at hearing those words, and slid
off the bed.
"We shall finish the draft now, if you'd like, Master Jinn," he
said, as he began dressing.
Qui-Gon nodded.
"That would be wise. Obi-Wan, get dressed and join me in the
Hall."
The final draft of the treaty went smoothly, even if there was
a low-lying feeling of tension in the room. Obi-Wan noticed
that Qui-Gon was acting as though nothing unusual had happened,
though he also knew that his Master was only holding the
feelings back until they were in private.
The day was getting dark as they made their way back to their
ship which would take them back to Coruscant. Surprisingly
enough to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon still did not have the talk with him
after they boarded the ship, and not even during the hour it
took them to return home. Even after they'd returned to their
rooms after landing and had dinner, Qui-Gon still had not
mentioned it. Obi-Wan was unsure of what to think.
"Mast-" he began, and suddenly he was silenced by a wave of
Qui-Gon's hand.
"We will go to the Council to discuss this now, Obi-Wan," he
said, and stood up to leave. Obi-Wan rose and followed him out
of their room and to the Council chamber.
The Council was waiting, to Obi-Wan's surprise. Pondering this,
he presumed that the comlink call that his Master had made
after dinner must have been to Yoda. As they entered the room,
Yoda questioned Qui-Gon as to the meaning of the meeting.
"We are here, why?" asked Yoda. "Problem you have?"
Qui-Gon nodded, deciding to get straight to the point.
"My Padawan, Obi-Wan, is a prostitute."
He then proceeded to tell the council of how he had discovered
this fact, and all that had happened on the diplomatic mission
regarding Obi-Wan's part in the discussions. Qui-Gon found
himself feeling strangely disappointed that the Council members
did not react as obviously as he suspected they would. In fact
they were all sitting in their seats showing a mixture of
expressions ranging from unsurprised, to worried, to guilty.
Finally, Yoda spoke.
"Obi-Wan, leave us, you will. Wait in your quarters, you
shall," he said to the young Padawan, and Obi-Wan nodded and
left the room.
Qui-Gon was left standing in the room looking rather indignant.
"Is he not to be reprimanded for destroying the good name of
the Jedi?" he asked the room. "He is a Jedi and he was been
parading himself in a manner that is certainly not dignified or
respectable!"
Yoda twitched his ears, and various council members suddenly
found that there were very interesting things going on outside
the window of the room.
"Hmm, Qui-Gon...talk with you, we must," said Yoda after a
pause. He then reconsidered his decision. "Talk to you,
Mace must."
Mace shot Yoda a disapproving look, but turned to his friend
all the same.
"Qui-Gon. How can I put this... We knew about Obi-Wan."
There was a moment of silence as Qui-Gon opened and closed his
mouth a few times, and then composed his thoughts.
Unsuccessfully.
"What?! How could you allow it?! He's out there on the
streets-"
"Street-walk, he does not. Brothel, he works in."
"He is still in public!"
Mace rose from his seat and put a comforting hand on Qui-Gon's
shoulder.
"Obi-Wan knows what he is doing. And he is very helpful on your
missions. He has quite a respectable reputation, as prostitutes
go," he said. "He's known to be very good as what he does," he
added with a wink.
Qui-Gon nearly exploded.
"Don't even try and tell me that you visit bars to hire my
Padawan, because I won't accept it! Taking advantage of a
Padawan is inappropriate! Especially where everyone can see!"
"I notice that you keep returning to the problem of Obi-Wan
prostituting himself in public places," commented Mace. "If
that is all that bothers you, then would it help you to know
that you could hire him privately in your chambers?"
Qui-Gon began to explode at the very idea of hiring his own
Padawan and the inappropriateness of it all, but instead what
came out was...
"Really?"
Mace shared a private wink with Yoda.
"Oh, yes," he replied. "He's very popular around the Jedi
grounds, you know. All very confidential."
Suddenly, all the feelings that he'd been experiencing since
he'd discovered about Obi-Wan's secret...or not-so-secret life,
came together. That walk Obi-Wan did when he swayed his hips...
The walking about nude in the morning before he'd found out...
The seductive eating of the food, and his behaviour in the
shower...
Obi-Wan had been seducing him! ...And it had worked!
Qui-Gon stood in the middle of the council chambers, his mouth
wide open. Suddenly he realised why he'd been having an
extraordinarily amount of erections over a day in recent times,
than he usually experienced. It was getting quite inconvenient,
especially during negotiations on Lamier. Always shifting
uncomfortably. Always having to walk about with his robe
tightly around himself. His body subconsciously knew what it
wanted, but it had just taken his mind a little longer to catch
on. And, come to think of it, it had always happened when
Obi-Wan was around or just mentioned.
He turned to Mace.
"Do you reckon...I'd have to pay him...?" he asked, feeling
quite embarrassed for asking the question. "I mean, I am
his Master, after all..."
"Free he should be, as Master you are," Yoda said, finishing
Qui-Gon's thought for him and chuckling quietly.
Qui-Gon blushed slightly.
"Well, yes... Is that unreasonable?"
"I don't think so," commented Mace. "Why don't you go see him
now?"
"Hmmm...I might," he pondered, then suddenly a suspicious
thought arose in his mind.
"Have you...hired my Padawan?" he asked, firstly staring at
Mace, and then eyeing the rest of the room as well.
A few members averted their eyes and continued staring at the
immensely interesting sight out the window. Yoda tapped his
cane reflexively on the side of his chair, and Mace tried to
look innocent.
"Of course not," Mace replied, "we would never betray you like
that."
Qui-Gon slanted his eyes and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, ok, I might have once," admitted Mace after a moment.
Qui-Gon kept staring at him. "Ok, twice. Ok, a few times. Maybe
it could be every Thursday night, actually..."
"Mace!"
Mace looked at his friend defensively.
"Well, he is a prostitute, Qui-Gon. That's what he's
there for!"
Yoda began a low chuckle. Qui-Gon turned his head slowly, a
look of complete shock covering his face.
"You haven't...!"
Yoda just chuckled again and twitched his ears.
"Don't worry, Qui-Gon," whispered Mace as he pulled his friend
out of the council chambers. "He's just baiting you. Obi-Wan
might be easy, but he's not that easy!"
Qui-Gon allowed himself a grin as Mace escorted him down the
corridor towards the room that Obi-Wan and he shared.
"Thank the Force for that," he said. "I don't think I _could_
sleep with Obi-Wan after Yoda had, as I'd keep picturing the
two of them together!"
Both men shuddered at the thought.
"Well, here's where I leave you," said Mace, as they reached
the door to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's room. "Have fun," he added
with a glint in his eye, and he turned and made his way back to
the council chambers.
Qui-Gon stood with uncertainty outside the door for a few
moments before releasing the door lock and entering.
"Obi-Wan?" he called out, his courage slowly rising.
"In here, Master," came the reply from the bedroom.
As he walked in, Qui-Gon took in the view of Obi-Wan standing
by their bed, wearing only the pair of black leather pants that
he'd seen him in at the club those few nights before.
//Am I blind?// Qui-Gon thought to himself in shock as he stood
gaping at the sight. //Did I really fail to notice
this?!//
"Obi-Wan..." he repeated, unsure of how to approach the matter,
but luckily his Padawan interrupted.
"I was just about to go to work, Master," he said as he began
searching for a matching black top. Meeting Qui-Gon's eyes with
a serious look, he asked, "Would you prefer I changed back into
my Jedi robes...?"
Qui-Gon saw the underlying question: Would he or would he not
allow Obi-Wan to keep prostituting himself?
"I don't want you going to the bar, but I don't believe there's
any reason to change out of those clothes yet, Obi-Wan," were
the words that came out of Qui-Gon's mouth, much to his
surprise. He'd never considered himself that forward in
approaching potential partners.
Obi-Wan's eyes lit up, but he remained careful in his response.
Dropping the top he'd just picked out to the ground, he met
Qui-Gon's stare and began a lazy swing of his hips as he slunk
across room to come to a halt barely an inch in front of his
Master. Letting the corner of his mouth curve up into a slight
leer, he reached up gently to rest one hand upon Qui-Gon's
chest.
"I hope you're suggesting what I think you are, Master."
Qui-Gon felt his breath quicken and at that moment he fully
realised the reason Obi-Wan chose his other career. The boy had
serious skill, and a massive amount of it, at that. Suddenly he
felt quite nervous, unsure of how to act around someone
so...experienced. Obi-Wan must have sensed his change in mood,
and quickly and adeptly fell into a less imposing manner. His
leer turned into a smile and he was once again just his
Master's Padawan, and a loveable one at that. Qui-Gon's courage
returned in an instant.
"I didn't realise it until today, but I've wanted this for a
long time, Obi-Wan," he admitted, pulling the young man into
his arms. Obi-Wan smiled up at him lovingly, and gently reached
up to stroke his hand through Qui-Gon's hair.
"I've wanted this for a long time too, Master," Obi-Wan
whispered, as he pulled Qui-Gon's head down to meet his lips.
They kissed, softly but surely, both sighing at the touch.
"Obi-Wan," whispered Qui-Gon as he felt his heart finally
reveal all that he wanted. "I want to be with you. Intimately."
Obi-Wan nodded understandingly, disentangled himself from his
Master's arms, wandered over to his bag and pulled out a thick
diary. He pulled a pen out and flipped to the current week.
"So, I'm booked out for a while..." he began while
absentmindedly taping the pen on the book and flipping pages.
"How's Thursday, three weeks from now... Eleven at night?" He
poised his pen, business-like and raised an eyebrow, waiting
for his Master to give his answer.
Qui-Gon just stood there, mouth open.
"You'll get a discount rate, of course, as you are my
Master," Obi-Wan continued on, scribbling something on the
page.
"Obi-Wan...?"
"Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon just stared at his Padawan, unable to steady his
thoughts. Suddenly he noticed the glint in Obi-Wan's eyes, and
the slight smirk that was barely being controlled in the corner
of his mouth.
"Obi-Wan!" he exclaimed, in shock. "You...You...!"
Obi-Wan burst out in laughter, throwing his diary away as he
clutched at his ribs as the laugh overtook him.
"Oh, Master," he managed to gasp out. "If you could see your
expression now!"
Qui-Gon tried to look disapprovingly at his Padawan for the
tasteless trick he'd just pulled, but failed miserably.
"Obi-Wan, that wasn't funny," he scolded, barely containing his
own grin. "How could you make me think-"
"-think I would make you pay?" Obi-Wan interjected. "Think that
I would only consider this a business arrangement?" He shook
his head in mock sadness. "Why, Master, do you think so little
of me?"
Qui-Gon smiled as he pulled his Padawan into his arms once
again.
"I apologize, Obi-Wan," he replied, a hint of laughter showing
in his eyes. "But when you have such a cheeky Padawan as I do,
you will find it very difficult to treat them with any
respect." He received a light slap of his buttocks for his
attempt at humour. "And to also have a Padawan that physically
assaults his Master..." Qui-Gon continued on, without skipping
a beat. "Well, that's a punishable offence."
"I only slapped you," Obi-Wan retorted with a grin. "And would
you like to be the one to go to Master Yoda and let this case
be written in the permanent records?"
"You have a point, my Padawan," Qui-Gon replied and sighed
deeply. "I might well have to deal with you myself, then."
Before Obi-Wan could speak another word, Qui-Gon had bent over
slightly, wrapped one strong arm around his Padawan and thrown
him over his shoulder, smiling to himself as he heard the
shriek of amused surprise fill the room. Qui-Gon strode his way
over to the bed and they both fell upon it, laughing as they
began a light, initial exploration of each other's bodies,
shedding their clothes in the process.
"You know what I've always wanted to do, Master..." purred
Obi-Wan, as the glint came back to his eyes.
"Call me Qui-Gon."
"I'd rather call you Master," replied Obi-Wan with a smirk.
"It's kind of tied in with what I've always wanted to do."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.
"And what would that be?" he asked, feigning innocence.
"I think you know..."
Qui-Gon rolled Obi-Wan over onto his stomach and held his
wrists tightly over his head.
"So would you be my Padawan or my slave...?" he purred.
Obi-Wan shivered, making a half-hearted attempt to struggle,
but only so he could feel his Master hold him down tighter than
before. He arched his buttocks up against Qui-Gon's cock.
"Slave..." he gasped, as he felt a finger press slightly inside
him and then pull out. "Only a sex one, though," he managed to
add, chuckling lightly into the pillow. "You're not using
sexual excitement as an excuse to get me to take on your half
of the cleaning duties."
He yelped and laughed loudly as he felt teeth dig lightly
against his shoulder.
"You have a lot of nerve, for a slave," Qui-Gon growled, though
Obi-Wan could sense his amusement through their bond. "Might
have to punish you..." He rolled himself slightly over to the
side of the bed and reached for Obi-Wan's bag, fishing around
inside until he heard the telltale clink of metal.
"How did you know...?" Obi-Wan began as his eyes followed his
Master's movements.
"You're a prostitute, aren't you?" Qui-Gon replied. "I presume
you carry your necessary 'equipment' with you, just like any
worker would."
Obi-Wan grinned and nodded.
"Very observant, Master," he replied, as he watched Qui-Gon
fasten the cuffs around his wrists, locking him to the bars of
the bed-head. He then noticed his Master's eyes on him.
"You could at least attempt to look like you don't want this,"
Qui-Gon remarked.
Obi-Wan pulled his best crestfallen, submissive expression he
could muster. "Sorry, Master," he mumbled, and lay his head
meekly on the pillow.
"That's more like it," Qui-Gon noted with amusement as he
grabbed hold of Obi-Wan's slender waist and suddenly smacked
his hand down upon the exposed buttocks beneath him. As Obi-Wan
released a half-moan, half-yelp, Qui-Gon smoothed his hand over
the skin and lent his head down to Obi-Wan's ear. "Don't think
you're getting out of the punishment, though," he murmured, as
the huge hand came down again, bringing upon a hiss of drawn-in
breath from beneath him.
"Like it?" he purred as he nibbled lightly on Obi-Wan's neck.
"Yes, Master..." Obi-Wan responded, his breathing becoming deep
and fast.
"Think you deserve more?" asked Qui-Gon, his own breath coming
out in ragged sounds, as he teasingly dragged his fingers ever
so lightly across the reddened skin, causing another moan to
fill the room.
"Definitely, Master!"
Ten more slaps fell down on Obi-Wan buttocks, intermingled with
moans and cries of excitement and pain. Finally, the hand
stilled, and Qui-Gon rolled his body back over onto Obi-Wan's
and rested there a moment. A thin layer of sweat had built upon
both of them, and they both lay still until their breathing
returned to normal.
Suddenly a wicked gleam appeared in Qui-Gon's eyes. He reached
up and unlocked Obi-Wan's wrists, but before the young man
could move them, he flipped him over onto his back and
re-locked them in place above his head again.
"So is the fruit as good as you make it out to be?" he asked
lightly, as he used the Force to levitate the bowl over to the
bedside table. Obi-Wan raised his head from the pillow and
turned it to notice his Master reach for a banana. He couldn't
hold back the laugh that erupted from the pit of his stomach.
"Getting your own back, Master?" he asked teasingly, curling
his legs around Qui-Gon's waist as he did so.
Qui-Gon nodded, a small grin on his face.
"Yes, but not how you think,' he replied. "I'd much prefer
myself inside you rather than a piece of fruit, and I really
must taste these amazingly delicious bananas you love so much
as it seems I'm missing out," he added as he slowly pulled the
skin down to expose the inner fruit. Obi-Wan watched, eyes
glued to following the movements of his Master's hands, as the
banana was brought down to his mouth and the tip was offered to
him.
"Care to taste?" Qui-Gon asked mildly, as he slowly pushed the
end in between his Padawan's lips. Obi-Wan's response was to
look directly into his Master's eyes and open his mouth to take
one, slow suck of the tip, before running his tongue down the
length of the fruit. Qui-Gon shivered, his erect cock
complaining for not receiving the same treatment. Pulling the
banana out of Obi-Wan's mouth, he carefully lay it upon the
young man's chest and then grabbed the thighs wrapped around
him and spread them wider, positioning his cock near the
offered entry. Yet instead of pushing in, he brought one hand
down and slowly used his fingers to loosen the passage, using
the sticky texture of the banana left on the digits as lube to
prepare his Padawan. He then pulled his hand along the length
of the fruit lying on Obi-Wan's chest, fully covered it with
the wetness. Reaching his hand around his own erect cock, he
rubbed the substance in, noting with satisfaction as Obi-Wan's
breath quickened, the boy's chest rising up and down so deeply
that the fruit nearly rolled off him.
"Ready?" he asked, but before waiting for an answer he thrust
his cock deep inside, his own loudly gasped moan joining
Obi-Wan's as they connected tightly. He let his body fall
heavily upon Obi-Wan's, both of them vaguely registering the
bursting banana between them as he did so. In and out in sure,
paced movements, Qui-Gon thrust, both men keeping their eyes
glued together as they stared at the lust reflected between
them. The movements increased as both felt themselves nearing
climax, Qui-Gon pulling his upper body off the skin beneath him
as he felt the moment approach, and then, staring Obi-Wan deep
in the eyes, he dipped down and licked his tongue in one, long
path up his Padawan, from stomach to neck, finishing in a
moaned joining of mouths as they both came together, screaming
at the release.
A mental tap. Qui-Gon opened his eyes. He closed them again.
Another mental tap. He opened his eyes again as squinted in
pain as the sunlight hit them, indicating the rise of a new
morning.
"Wha-?" he mumbled, as his brain slowly pieced itself together.
Finally he remembered what the sound would be - Yoda trying to
get his attention.
//Yes, Master Yoda?// he sent, lying still as his body slowly
awakened.
//Meeting, there is// sent Yoda. //Come now, you must//
//Now?//
//Now//
The mental connection was shut off and Qui-Gon lay still for a
moment and then sighed as he stretched out his body, basking in
the memories of the night before.
"Obi-Wan," he murmured, and turned to look at his sleeping
Padawan. There was no sign of waking in the boy so he carefully
rose from the bed, showered, dressed, and wrote a message of
explanation on the datapad which he left on the table. As he
turned to leave the room, he couldn't resist walking back over
to his Padawan and planting a delicate kiss upon his forehead,
unfortunately bumping him as he did so. He felt Obi-Wan stir
and a mumbled questioning sound was made.
"Sorry," Qui-Gon whispered, unsure of how much conversation was
expected under such circumstances. "I've got a meeting," he
added, as he turned to leave.
Obi-Wan rolled over in his half-sleep.
"Just leave the money on the table."
Qui-Gon's head snapped back as Obi-Wan's brain registered what
he'd just said.
"Sorry, force of habit," he mumbled, more awake and feeling a
little guilty. "Come here, Master. I'll like a hug before you
go." He smiled an endearing smile as he opened his arms.
Qui-Gon returned the smile and walked back over to his Padawan,
letting himself fall into the open arms he was offered. The two
men held each other for a few moments, Qui-Gon cherishing the
feel of his new lover against his body. As they pulled apart,
Obi-Wan kissed him gently on the lips and then lay back on the
bed again.
"I'll miss you," Qui-Gon admitted, feeling quite romantic as he
stared down at his Padawan, who was barely covered under the
sheets.
"I'll be waiting for you," Obi-Wan answered. "Don't be long."
Qui-Gon smiled warmly, turned and left the room, the door
sliding shut behind him.
Obi-Wan lay in bed, listening to the sound of the retreating
footsteps of the man that was now his, after so many years of
longing. He then pulled his hand out from under the sheets and
grinned as he looked at his Master's credit-card that he'd just
pick-pocketed from his wallet as they hugged. The card that was
soon to be less the amount that the going rate for prostitutes
was, those days.
He grinned to himself and relaxed back into the bed, falling
back asleep and dreaming sweet dreams of Masters and money.
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