Master Apprentice Archive Take Me to the Ball Quick search:

Take Me to the Ball

by KatBear (katbear@cox.net)

Headers

Archive: MA, QJEB. Any others please ask.
Category: First Time, PWP
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Feedback: Appreciated.
Thanks: To the beta reader who made this a better story (Bonny). All mistakes are my own.
Summary: Obi-Wan's scheming goes awry; will lust and jealousy carry the day?
Warnings: If male-male sex bothers you, you shouldn’t be here.
Spoilers: None, pre-TPM.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas, I'm just playing with them.

The buzz in the refectory was punctuated by laughter, the atmosphere a mix of amusement and anticipation. The huge dining hall had been turned into a temporary meeting place. The room was well-filled with both participants and observers.

Obi-Wan paused in the doorway and glanced around. Most of the masters and knights who had chosen to partake had gathered on the left side near the front of the hall. He caught sight of his master and nodded respectfully before moving on to sit with the rest of the senior padawans on the right side of the room. The event was theoretically open to all Jedi, but it was primarily the members of the humanoid species chose to submit their names to join this particular aspect of the upcoming celebration. He sat down with some acquaintances and chatted for a bit as they all waited for the drawing to begin.

"Hey, Obi-Wan, you hoping for anyone special when your number comes up?" asked Garen as he plopped down next to his friend. "They say almost all the masters and knights are willing to follow the whole tradition, even the part about going to bed with you after the ball if you want."

"Hmmph," snerked Veg'tal, a Gahanor several years ahead of them. "The tradition is true, but you two are so low in seniority there won't be much selection left by the time they get down to you."

"They draw the name of your companion from the pool, so just because we get drawn last doesn't mean that nobody interesting is left," Garen retorted.

Obi-Wan just smiled as he listened to the argument. While it was undeniably true that he had very little seniority, having been promoted to senior padawan less than a year ago, he had already taken his own measures to ensure that he was paired with the one Jedi master he desperately wanted. He turned to look at the small stage at one end of the room and watched the final preparations as a sealed box was brought in. The names had already been paired randomly by computer once the lists of participants were finalized, but only a few people knew what surprises were about to be unveiled.

The comm at Obi-Wan's belt beeped. "Kenobi here."

"It's Neechelov. I'm at the main terminal."

"What! Hang on a sec." Obi-Wan excused himself and hurried to the back of the hall. He cupped the comm to his face before speaking. "What in seven hells are you doing at the terminal? You're supposed to be here running the drawing."

"Look, I'm sorry. My master and I got called out for an emergency mission and I've been running around like crazy to get ready. Our transport leaves in a few minutes."

"But, but what about the names?" Obi-Wan hissed.

"Sorry, I had to turn the pairing over to Knight D'Buc. Everything's off. I have to assume your name went into the random pool just like everybody else, so I still owe ya."

"But damn it Neech, I was counting on you."

"I know how important this was to you, but the mission has to come first. I'm sorry."

"You're right, of course. I understand." Obi-Wan laughed weakly. "Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky on my own."

"Hey, you never know." There was a brief silence. "Look, I've got to go now. Something will work out, you'll see."

"Right. Well, good luck on the mission. Kenobi out."

Obi-Wan thumbed his comm off and returned it to his belt. He leaned against the wall, his knees shaking. Force, three months of work down the drain. That was my best shot at getting that idiot into bed, he thought, banging his head against the wall a few times. I just don't understand how someone who seems so willing to fuck such a variety of other beings won't even look twice at me.

A gong rang out through the hall. Obi-Wan saw Master Yoda and Knight D'Buc move onto the stage so he hurried back to his seat, working hard to school his features to their normal calm.

The room quieted as Master Yoda thumped his stick. "Welcome, welcome," came the familiar rasp. "Names we draw tonight for Padawan Ball." A short cackle. "A respite from duty, yes, and a night to enjoy with new friends and old."

With a flourish of his gimmer stick, Master Yoda banged on the top of the sealed box and a flap popped open. Knight D'Buc reached in and pulled out the first data stick. She held it poised over the terminal that would send the names to the huge central screen. Although the computer had drawn the original pairings of padawans and volunteer partners by order of padawan seniority, the data sticks were then thrown together randomly in the box, so nobody knew in what order the announcements would be made.

"Let the naming begin," pronounced Master Yoda.

The knight pushed the data stick into the slot and the first pair of names flashed onto the screen.

"Knight Hurntol – Padawan Neeero."

The first pairing drew applause and scattered laughter as a tall gangly dark-haired apprentice crossed the room to bow to the copper-skinned fireplug of a knight who stood to accept his murmured request to be granted the honor to escort her to the ball. They both wore big grins as they sat down next to each other.

As the announcements continued, Obi-Wan grew more tense with each disappointment. He tried to keep from fidgeting and avoided looking at his master, but his mouth grew dry even as a small trickle of sweat started to form on the back of his neck.

The crowd of paired Jedi grew ever larger as the number of padawans near Obi-Wan shrank. There was a scant double-handful of apprentices left, yet incredibly Qui-Gon had not yet been claimed. The knot in Obi-Wan's stomach tightened as each new data stick was pulled.

"Master Jinn – Padawan Trawv."

Obi-Wan stared at the screen in sick dismay. His stomach lurched, then solidified into a lead ball. His hands clenched into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms. He bit the inside of his lower lip to keep from cursing.

Two tables away a broad-shouldered padawan rose to his not-inconsiderable height. Dark brown hair was highlighted by two white streaks, one starting above each brown eye. Pointed ears accented his long face, white teeth shining in the medium brown skin. A smug grin was on his face as he strode confidently across the room.

Obi-Wan steamed inside as he watched Trawv bow to Qui-Gon. The padawan's silky accent was audible across the scattered clapping and catcalls as he leaned in close to beg the favor of Qui-Gon's company and was rewarded by a long arm reaching out to pull him down to sit close to the master.

The next few announcements passed unnoticed by the unhappy apprentice. He was steadily sinking deeper into his misery when a sharp jolt to his ribs got his attention and he looked up at the screen.

"Looks like you really hit the jackpot, Kenobi," said a grinning apprentice next to Obi-Wan.

His horrible night got even worse as Obi-Wan stared at the screen.

"Master Yaddle – Padawan Kenobi."

As the applause and good-natured laughter rippled around the hall, Obi-Wan thought seriously about just slinking out the closest exit. He rapidly balanced the certain tongue-lashing and hours of meditation he knew he would get from Qui-Gon for insulting the little master against being the butt of jokes from his fellow padawans for many tens to come. He sighed and decided he would simply have to spend the rest of his padawanhood in his room. He stood up to make the seemingly endless trek between tables.

"May I have the honor of your company at the ball, Master Yaddle?" Obi-Wan bowed, resigned to the inevitable.

"My pleasure it will be, Padawan Kenobi," the diminutive master replied, a twinkle in her eye.

"Thank you." Obi-Wan straightened.

A dark cloaked figure had risen from a far corner and silently advanced along the side of the room while Obi-Wan had been speaking. He flipped back his hood, stepped forward and placed one hand on the apprentice's shoulder.

"In accordance with ancient tradition, I claim the right of second," intoned Master Mace Windu.

The room was silent with stunned amazement; such a request had not been seen in over a hundred years.

"My escort he is," said Master Yaddle firmly. "Dance with me when I choose, he will."

"Understood and agreed." Windu nodded once.

Obi-Wan blinked at the swift exchange and looked around in bewilderment. "Uh, wait a moment. What—"

"Done!" Yaddle cut off the apprentice.

From the stage, Master Yoda cackled gleefully. "Congratulations, Padawan Kenobi. Two escorts you have. Now, finish the rest we must."

Windu pulled Obi-Wan down to sit between Yaddle and himself.

"What is going on?" Obi-Wan whispered.

"Silence," Windu ordered in a low voice. He glanced at the padawan to ensure his direction was followed.

Obi-Wan subsided and sat quietly through the remaining announcements. After the last display of names Knight D'Buc upended the box to demonstrate that there were no more data sticks inside. Master Yoda declared the naming over and thanked everyone for coming. There was a buzz of conversation as everyone rose, the newly paired off Jedi making their arrangements for the next evening's celebration.

Obi-Wan stood up and faced Masters Yaddle and Windu. "May I inquire as to what is going on, Masters?"

"Of course, Padawan," Mace replied, a sly smile lighting up his face. "All Council members have the ancient right to claim a padawan for the ball as the second partner, although it is a right that is seldom used. The scholars believe it dates back to a period when there were more masters and knights who wished to attend than senior padawans available to escort them."

"So I am supposed to take both of you tomorrow, and dance with both of you, and whatever else one does at the ball?"

"Proud you should be, young man!" Yaddle exclaimed. "Very few are those who have two Council members to escort to their first ball!"

"Yes, Master Yaddle, I understand it is quite an honor," said Obi-Wan hastily with another bow. "I just wasn’t certain what I was supposed to do."

"This isn't very different from other social events you have been to on missions, but we'll keep it simple for you," said Mace. "I will meet both of you at Master Yaddle's quarters, and we can leave from there. You don't have to bring the traditional flowers or gifts. At the ball there is the buffet meal first, of course, and you should offer to assist us. During the ball you should be attentive to your partners, offer to fetch a drink occasionally, dance with them if they wish, and make polite conversation. If we both want to sit out a dance you are free to dance with whomever you wish. Any other questions?" Both he and Yaddle were smiling.

"No, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said earnestly, his expression reminiscent of taking notes in class, "I assure you that I shall endeavor to fully carry out my duties."

Mace placed an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "Don't think of it as a duty, Padawan Kenobi." He pulled the surprised apprentice in close and spoke softly. "You are quite an attractive young man, and we want you to enjoy the ball." He squeezed briefly and continued in a whisper. "All of it." He released Obi-Wan and stepped back.

Both masters nodded to Obi-Wan. "Good evening, Padawan Kenobi. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow." Windu and Yaddle then headed out of the room, Yaddle cackling softly to herself.

The stunned apprentice stood alone among the depleted crowd, still trying to take in Master Windu's last words. He was aware of several curious stares, and shook his head in disbelief. This was certainly not how he had envisioned this evening, and definitely not what he had planned for the ball. He looked around, and saw that his own master was looking at him over the broad shoulder of Padawan Trawv, but he couldn't decide if Qui-Gon's odd expression meant that he was pleased, angry or amused. Seeing that Qui-Gon didn't appear to be in any hurry to leave, though, he shrugged and left the refectory to return to their quarters.

Obi-Wan slept through his alarm the next morning, having spent a restless night in disturbing dreams of a naked Master Yaddle cackling and prancing across his bed. He quickly washed and threw on a clean uniform. He grabbed a couple of rolls from their small kitchen, mumbled an apology to Qui-Gon, who was sitting at the table sipping tea and eating a bowl of cereal, then rushed out the door.

Sliding into a seat at the back of the classroom, Obi-Wan studiously perused his datapad while the instructor was getting ready to start her lecture. He only had to survive his three morning classes and he could return to his room, senior padawans having been granted a half day off to prepare for the ball. Even on his trip to class he had already starting getting smirks from other padawans and the joke about Yaddle's height being remarkably convenient was rapidly growing old.

The first two classes passed by and Obi-Wan kept to side passages in-between. Unfortunately the instructor for his third class was held up and he had little choice but to fend off several not particularly funny jokes and ribald speculations.

"Hey, Kenobi," said a red-haired apprentice who slid into the chair next to Obi-Wan. "Is it true Master Windu muscled in on Master Yaddle so you have to take both of them tonight?"

"I guess that's one way to put it." Obi-Wan had to think for a moment to recall the padawan's name; Karev had only recently joined the class after a long mission off-planet.

"You lucky son-of-a-bantha." Karev shook his head admiringly.

"Huh?" Obi-Wan blinked and stared. "What do you mean?"

"Haven't you ever seen Windu down in the training salle? That is one hot hunk of a master when he's not busy being a Council member."

"Actually, no, I don't think I have ever seen him down there. And I can't say I've ever really thought of him that way." Obi-Wan had been so caught up in his frustration at not getting Qui-Gon that he hadn't given any thought at all to the possibility that something good could happen with his new dates.

"I'm telling you that you don't know what you've been missing." Karev leaned in closer. "My master has insomnia sometimes, so we used to go down and spar late in the evenings. That's usually when Windu would come down too. Now I don't like to brag, but my master is pretty good with a lightsaber. Windu would take both of us on, though, and wipe the floor with us." He let his tongue trail along his lower lip. "Just imagine him dripping with sweat, taking off his tunic, muscles rippling…" He rolled his eyes. "And talk about a package, mmmm."

Obi-Wan was getting more interested by the second. He thought back to Mace Windu's parting words, remembered that extra little squeeze around his shoulders, and decided this might be an idea worth exploring, even if it was just to tweak his master's attention. "You think he's interested in going all the way?"

"I've heard he's fussy about who he chooses, but once he goes after someone it's definitely all the way." Karev shook his head. "Think about it, Kenobi. He could have had anyone in the whole room, but he picked you."

The instructor entered the classroom, apologizing for the delay. Obi-Wan had time only for a quick whisper of thanks before the lecture started, but his mind buzzed with Karev's words for the rest of the class.

After class Obi-Wan hurried back to his quarters. He rummaged in the cold box and pulled out fruit, cheese and a bottle of water. He carried his prizes to the table and began slowly munching as he continued to mull over the concept of sharing Master Mace Windu's bed. Unfortunately, the annoying cackle of a small green Jedi master kept insinuating itself into the scene, and Obi-Wan began to wonder if it would be Master Yaddle who actually ended up calling on him to follow all of the traditions allegedly associated with the ball.

Qui-Gon came in and hung up his cloak beside the door. He disappeared in the small kitchen for several minutes, finally returning with a plate of bread and cheese and a large mug of tea. He seated himself at the table and gazed at his apprentice over the rim of his mug as he took a sip of tea.

"Good afternoon, Master." Obi-Wan took a small bite of cheese.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Good afternoon, Padawan." He took another sip of tea. "So, tonight is your first ball."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan kept his expression neutral as he bit into a small herrafruit.

"Tomorrow is a rest day, so you are released from your curfew. Feel free to stay as long as you wish."

"Thank you, Master."

"If you come directly back afterwards, it would be a kindness if you would come in quietly. I anticipate that Padawan Trawv will accept my invitation to join me here after the ball."

Obi-Wan almost choked on his water, but managed to escape with only a minor coughing fit. "Actually, Master, I was wanting to ask about some of the traditions that are supposed to go with the ball. If you don't mind, that is."

"Of course I don't mind, Padawan. The ball started as an opportunity for senior padawans to become better acquainted with the Knights and Masters as well as practice their formal social skills." Qui-Gon smiled. "Over the years the 'socializing' has become quite broadly defined, if that is what you were wondering about."

"I suppose that was the main thing," Obi-Wan admitted. "I'm not entirely sure what to do about having two partners for the ball." He swirled the remnants of water in his bottle as he stared at it.

"Well, the master or knight is allowed to request that you go back with them to their quarters after the ball, but it is entirely up to the senior padawan how far you want to take the tradition." Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, a broad grin lighting his face. "I hardly think you need to worry about Master Yaddle molesting you, though."

A flush flooded Obi-Wan's cheeks as he set his bottle down with a small thump. He sat silently for a moment before replying, choosing his words carefully. "Actually, it was Master Windu who hinted that he would be very interested in the full set of traditions."

"Don't worry about him either, Padawan." Qui-Gon leaned over the table to pat Obi-Wan's forearm gently. "Just because he is a Council member doesn't entitle him to take advantage of anyone. If he does anything that makes you uncomfortable you can signal to me and I'll take care of him for you."

Obi-Wan found he had to restrain himself from grinding his teeth in annoyance. He took a calming breath before speaking. "Actually, I think Master Windu is rather attractive."

Qui-Gon's hand stopped, rested on his apprentice's arm for a long moment, then was abruptly pulled back. His mouth tightened into a straight line.

"I was also thinking that I might want to go back to his quarters after the ball."

Qui-Gon blinked a few times as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. His lips parted ever so slightly. The lines in his forehead scrunched just a little. "Indeed."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied blandly. He sucked on a slice of juja. "After all, it is traditional." Another slurp of juja. "And I'd certainly not want to let down my new peers by not following tradition."

"I see." A sour expression briefly escaped before Qui-Gon corralled his features into one of his famous neutral ambassadorial stares. "Well… you are a senior padawan now."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan felt his upper lip twitching as he tried to keep his own expression neutral as well.

There was silence as Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice a while longer. Finally he gave a noncommittal "Hmmm." and stood up. "If you have any other questions feel free to ask, Padawan. Enjoy your first ball." Qui-Gon turned away and headed for his sleeping room.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan remained at the table for a few minutes, staring speculatively at his master's departing form. Finally he nodded to himself and stood up to clear the table.

The figure in the mirror stared back with a small frown; softly gleaming formal black boots; tight black leather pants; light blue synthsilk shirt with open collar and loose sleeves; black leather vest; all topped by a dark silver choker with a round blue stone.

Obi-Wan cocked his head and took another long measured gaze up and down his reflection. He fingered the smooth stone, a gift from Qui-Gon on Obi-Wan's last nameday. The apprentice had personally crafted the choker, a finger-width band with subtly intertwined strands of lighter silver on the dark base, the brilliant blue stone carefully mounted. He had hoped to wear it at the ball to honor his relationship with Qui-Gon, but had decided it might work just as well as a potential lure.

"I think we need just one more touch," Obi-Wan muttered as he stared at his image.

Rummaging in his drawer, Obi-Wan finally found a small box. He returned to the mirror and withdrew a narrow tube. Very carefully he drew in a fine line of black along the edge of each eyelid. Next he used a fingertip to blend in a thin layer of blush along the top of his cheekbones. A subtly colored rose gloss plumped his lips. A light application of blue glitter cream in his hair completed his preparations.

"If this outfit hanging off Master Windu's right arm doesn't get the bloody bastard's attention tonight then to hell with him," Obi-Wan pronounced. He gave a wicked grin. "And if Mace Windu is the consolation prize, I'm damned well going to take full advantage of the opportunity."

Obi-Wan cautiously opened his door and peered out. Qui-Gon was nowhere to be seen, so he stepped out and made his way to the door. He paused and loudly called out, "I'm leaving now, Master," then waited a moment. He heard a vague roaring from behind Qui-Gon's door and took that as his response. He exited the quarters and proceeded down the hall with a confident smile.

The three Jedi slowly entered the large hall, Mace in brown leather and red satin on the left, Obi-Wan in the center and Yaddle in white to his right. Many in the large gathering stopped to stare at the threesome. Obi-Wan was glad of the little extra fillip of warm relaxation from the excellent wine Master Yaddle had insisted on serving before they had left her quarters.

Obi-Wan glanced around the hall. The stage at one end was dark but already set up with musical instruments; the short wall at the other end of the hall was set up with a generous buffet area. Recorded music played softly from hidden speakers. A large part of the floor had been cleared for dancing while tables had been moved into an artful scattering instead of the usual straight lines. Old tapestries had been brought out of storage and lined the upper walls while planters had been placed along walls and among the tables. With the lights at half the usual level and candles flickering on the tables, the atmosphere was distinctly different from the work-a-day refectory.

The trio slowly worked their way through the crowd. The two masters seemed oblivious to the extra attention, so Obi-Wan modeled his behavior after theirs as they exchanged pleasantries with other attendees. He left briefly to fetch cups of punch for his two escorts. He kept an eye out for his own master, but only spotted him once at the other end of the hall.

"I think we should claim a table," Mace murmured. "The buffet will be opening in a few minutes."

They made their way to one of the smaller tables about halfway down the room. Several strategically placed planters afforded a small measure of privacy while still offering good views of the dance floor and stage. Shortly after sitting down they were joined by Master Gallia and her escort, Padawan Urhil, as well as Knight V'pel and Padawan Ruthon. Within moments the mellow ringing of a gong announced that the buffet was open.

Obi-Wan quickly rose. "May I get something for you, Master Windu, Master Yaddle?"

Mace declined, opting instead to accompany the three padawans through the line. When Obi-Wan got up later to refill a plate for himself and get more punch for Master Yaddle, he noticed Qui-Gon a few tables over. He put a touch of extra roll into his hips, smiling and nodding as he passed by. Qui-Gon nodded back, his expression neutral, but Obi-Wan thought he felt eyes following him as he continued to the buffet line. He was certain of it when he caught Qui-Gon staring in his direction as he came back, but the master quickly looked away when his companion touched his arm and leaned in to talk to him.

Eventually a group of musicians wandered to the stage and began tuning their instruments. Obi-Wan sat back in his chair, surprised at how quickly time had passed. The evening had turned out to be quite enjoyable so far; the food was good, the conversation lively and everyone at the table, although most were senior to him, had treated him as an equal member of the group. Then he remembered who had claimed the opening dance, and he found himself hoping he wouldn't turn out to be the butt of more jokes if it turned out to look as ridiculous as it seemed.

A few moments later a sharp tattoo on a cymbal drew everyone's attention to the stage. A knight in evening dress uttered a few welcoming comments, then announced the first dance of the night would be a familiar waltz.

Obi-Wan felt that everyone at the table was staring at him as he hesitated, then decided to just brazen it out. He stood up and turned to Yaddle.

"Master Yaddle, may I have the honor of the first dance with you?" He bowed and extended his right hand.

"An honor for me it is, such a fine padawan for my partner to have." The diminutive being slid gracefully from her seat, then placed her left hand on Obi-Wan's right hand as they moved to the dance floor.

As the first strains of music wafted over the room, Obi-Wan awkwardly tried to adjust his stance to lean down without overpowering his partner. He was surprised when Yaddle floated upward instead, her head coming to rest just below his chin.

"A master I am, dear boy," Yaddle declared as she lightly grasped the apprentice's left shoulder with her right hand. "And not a decrepit old crock like Yoda either. Now your mouth you shall close and dance we will."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes, Master Yaddle." He couldn't keep a small grin off his face as they gently twirled around the room in the stately waltz. His partner hummed along with the music, her white dress trailing them like the wake of a ship. Occasionally she would whisper funny comments or insights about other Jedi or Senate members, poking fun equally at both. Obi-Wan was honestly regretful when the dance ended, and found that his affection and respect for the councilor had greatly increased.

Back at the table Obi-Wan bowed again to Yaddle. "Thank you for the dance, Master Yaddle. It was a genuine pleasure."

"My pleasure it was, Padawan Kenobi." Yaddle turned to Mace. "Yours he is, Master Windu, for the rest of the ball. My own way home I will find."

Mace nodded as his fellow councilor turned and left. Master Gallia and her escort, who had been sitting at the table chatting with him, excused themselves to dance. Mace motioned to Obi-Wan. "Please sit down, Padawan Kenobi." He waited a moment. "I hope you have been enjoying your first ball so far."

"Yes, Master Windu, I have." He nodded thoughtfully. "To be truthful, I have enjoyed it more than I expected. I found that in particular I did not know Master Yaddle nearly as well as I thought I did. She was a graceful partner."

"Yes." Mace looked out where Yaddle could be seen at another table, already engaged in an animated conversation. "Our Master Yaddle is actually quite a remarkable being. If you watch her tonight, you will see she is an expert in working a room. She takes a genuine interest in others and appears to be so friendly and innocuous that people will open up to her and confide things that they wouldn't dream of saying to others."

"I hadn't realized that," Obi-Wan admitted as he watched the other table.

"That is part of her charm. Most people don't expect it and don't realize how much they have said. We rely on her quite a bit to keep an eye on the internal doings in the Temple. The initiates adore her and apprentices appreciate the sympathetic ear." Mace took a sip of punch. "For example, a few tens ago Master Yaddle came across one of our senior padawans who was working very long hours in one of the computer labs. He seemed quite stressed about getting a project to work properly, so Yaddle chatted with him several times to see if she could help. The young man seemed appreciative of the assistance, but unfortunately it turned out that he didn't get to finish the project because he and his master were suddenly called away for an emergency mission."

The warm mellow feeling Obi-Wan had been experiencing was quickly replaced by a cold leaden weight in his gut. "Indeed?" he replied weakly. He had turned pale and tried to keep his breathing even as he toyed with the half-empty cup of punch.

"Yes," Mace replied, leaning closer, one forearm resting on the table. "I'm sure that Padawan Neechelov never realized how much he inadvertently told Master Yaddle. And we do have other resources to find information."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and looked away as he suddenly had visions of spending the next year scrubbing greasy pots in the kitchen.

Mace smiled. "Don't worry. There won't be any official action taken. If anything, it was a rather impressive string of favors you pulled together to get to Neechelov. Speaks well of your future abilities as a negotiator."

Relief flooded through the apprentice as a pink flush replaced the pallor in his cheeks. "Thank you, Master Windu. I hope you won't think poorly of Padawan Neechelov. It was all my fault and my idea, but we weren't trying to hurt anyone else. I just wanted to –"

"It is alright, and nothing will happen to either of you as long as you don't try it again. Nor do I intend to use the incident to ask you to do anything you might not wish to."

"I'm not certain I understand, Master Windu."

"May I speak on a personal level, Obi-Wan?"

"Of course."

"I have admired you for some time, Obi-Wan. You have grown into a fine young man, and I am attracted to you." Mace had leaned even closer, and was practically touching the apprentice. "Your recent attempt to influence the ball pairings, though, indicates to me that you are attracted to your own master. May I ask if I am correct in thinking that Master Jinn does not return your feelings?"

Obi-Wan was frozen for a long moment, even forgetting to breathe. He looked into Mace Windu's dark brown eyes, started to speak, "I..." then had to turn his head away. He took a shaky breath as the silence dragged on. "I do have feelings for my master..." Obi-Wan rubbed his hands together. Finally he looked up. "I think that mostly he doesn't to seem to realize that I do have those sorts of feelings, I mean... that I can have those sorts of feelings. He just doesn’t... well, I'm not sure how to express it."

Mace smiled. "I do know what you're trying to say. I've seen it happen many times; masters that don't see their apprentices growing up." He sat up straight. "Jinn is an idiot."

Obi-Wan started to protest.

"He is an idiot and blind to boot if he doesn't see what is right in front of him," Mace declared firmly. "I respect your feelings, but if Qui-Gon isn't ready or willing to return them, I would very much like to have your company after the ball." He held up a hand. "I'm not asking for a long term affair, and I don't want you to do this if you are not truly willing."

"To be completely honest, Master Windu, my first thought was to hope that Qui-Gon might get jealous tonight." He smiled diffidently. "I thought about it quite a bit this afternoon, though. If it just isn't meant to be with Qui-Gon, then I would be very happy to go with you after the ball."

"Fair enough," Mace nodded. "I have seen him looking at you several times tonight, so perhaps your case isn't entirely hopeless." He smiled, a wicked gleam in his eye. "In any event, I intend to at least get several good dances out of this." He stood up. "If you will excuse me, I need to chat with a few people, but I would like the next dance when it starts."

"Of course, Master Windu." Obi-Wan hastily stood up and bowed. "I'll meet you here at the table."

Being at loose ends for the moment, Obi-Wan decided to wander back to the buffet for a sweet. As he was pondering the selections he saw a tall familiar figure near the punch bowl turning in his direction.

"Good evening, Master," Obi-Wan said pleasantly. "Very nice party, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Qui-Gon replied. He looked his apprentice up and down, a slight frown on his face. "Isn't that a new outfit? I don't believe I've ever seen you looking quite like that."

"Yes, it is. I got it especially for tonight."

Qui-Gon's stare lingered on Obi-Wan's throat. "And that stone looks remarkably like the one I gave you."

"It is the same stone," Obi-Wan said. He slowly ran a finger across the stone's surface. "I made the choker and set the stone in it so I could wear it." He dropped his voice to a sultry drawl. "I thought it was about time others were able to see what you've done for me instead of hiding my... assets."

"Ah, I see." Qui-Gon seemed fascinated by Obi-Wan's finger sliding gently across the gem. He cleared his throat, then cocked his head quizzically as he finally glanced up. "What I've done for you?"

Breaking the eye contact, Obi-Wan turned his attention to the choices on the table and selected a piece of cake, smearing a bit on his fingers as he transferred it to his plate. "You have put in a great deal of work to enable me to make it senior padawan. I just wanted to show a little appreciation."

Qui-Gon shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Obi-Wan turned back to his master. He took a sip of punch as he watched the apprentice slowly lick chocolate icing from his finger. His breathing seemed to have developed a slight hitch.

"The fluma cake is quite good tonight, Master. Have you tried it?" Obi-Wan offered the plate to his master.

Qui-Gon swallowed, but before he could respond Padawan Trawv came up behind him. "There you are, Master Jinn. I believe you promised this next dance to me." Trawv scowled at Obi-Wan as he took Qui-Gon's arm possessively.

"Yes, so I did," Qui-Gon said reluctantly. "If you will excuse us?"

"Of course. Actually, I promised this dance to Mace, so I should get going myself."

Obi-Wan smiled as he headed back to his table. The expression on Qui-Gon's face at the casual mention of Mace's name was priceless as the annoyed Trawv tried to drag him toward the dance floor.

Back at the table Obi-Wan joined Master Gallia and the other three Jedi. They chatted for a few moments until Mace came by to claim his dance partner. The next dance turned out to be a fast waltz. Obi-Wan was impressed with the easy grace and athleticism of the Jedi master and gave himself over to enjoying the dance. They stayed on the floor for the next dance, a medium paced swingy fun number. By mutual consent they then took a break, stopped to get fresh punch and a frozen dessert and headed to their table, an impulse evidently shared by their other table mates.

"You two looked very good out there," remarked V'Pel. "I'd like to see you on the sparring floor."

"I doubt if Qui-Gon would care for that," said Gallia as she took another spoonful of the creamy ice. She leaned forward confidentially. "And speaking of Qui-Gon, do you know what his problem is tonight, Mace? He's been out of sorts and I've seen him several times watching Obi-Wan. He and Trawv almost tripped over each other in that last dance."

"Well, I haven't been doing anything to him, Adi," said Mace innocently. "I've barely spoken to the man, although in the fresher I did mention what a fine senior padawan Obi-Wan has turned out to be and how much I've enjoyed having him as my escort tonight."

Gallia rolled her eyes. "Mmmm hmmmm."

"No, really, that's all I said," Mace protested, but there was a ghost of a grin on his face.

Obi-Wan sat back and smiled at the banter as he finished his treat. He looked up as the music started again, a slow seductive strain.

"Shall we dance, Master Windu?"

"I would like that very much, Padawan Kenobi."

The lights over the dance floor had been darkened even more to suit the late hour and relaxed relations. Obi-Wan and Mace moved close together, slowly gliding along the floor to the sinuous beat.

Obi-Wan felt heat front and back. Mace's taut belly was against his own, while two large hands roved up and down his back. He smelled the musk of Mace's sweat, faintly colored with the tang of an unknown herb. He could hear the beating of Mace's heart as the master pulled him close, his head resting just under Mace's chin. He relaxed into Mace's strength, trusting him to lead them both safely around the floor.

Obi-Wan could feel his own heat rising as first one hand, then another, worked its way down to massage his rear. Leather slid against leather as thighs and groins pushed against each other, the creaking of tanned hide a subtle counterpoint to the beat of the music. He let his own hands roam freely, kneading the lower back and heavy muscles of his companion's arse. Sweat trickled down his temples as blood raced, his cock beginning to fill when Mace pulled him even closer.

As they traversed the floor, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon and his partner several times. The master kept glancing in his direction as they orbited, occasionally forcing Trawv into an awkward turn as he kept the padawan practically at arm's length. Trawv's expression was beyond annoyed to downright irritated.

Eventually the music ended, with Mace and Obi-Wan at the darkest end of the floor. They stood together for a long moment, Obi-Wan sighing as they finally broke contact.

From nearby they heard a furious whisper. "Damnit, would you make up your mind? Last night when they announced the pairings you practically had your hands down my pants and tonight you've barely looked at me. If you're serious, let's go back to your quarters now like you invited me to do. I know I can give you something a lot better to do than standing around here ogling that boy."

"He is not a boy," they distinctly heard Qui-Gon's intense whisper. "He is my padawan." The crowd parted and they saw Qui-Gon and Trawv standing face to face.

"He may be your padawan, but he's obviously Windu's boy tonight," Trawv retorted. "And more power to him since everybody knows that you certainly haven't bothered to ever take notice of him." Trawv turned on his heel and stalked away. Qui-Gon stood staring after him, fists clenched at his side.

"It doesn't appear that Master Jinn's escort has been having very much fun tonight," murmured Mace. He put an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder as they strolled across the floor.

Obi-Wan didn’t reply. He was too busy trying to will his half-hard cock into subservience while thinking that perhaps one size larger pants might not have been a bad idea. He gingerly sat down when they arrived back at their empty table.

"You look hot, Obi-Wan." Mace had a slight smirk on his face. "Let me take that vest off so you'll be a little cooler."

Obi-Wan leaned forward so Mace could slide the leather off. He straightened, then slid the stopper on his shirt a little lower to expose more of his chest.

"Need this more than I, you do." Two cups of cold punch appeared on the table, accompanied by a cackling giggle.

"Thank you, Master Yaddle." Obi-Wan nodded down at the green master before taking a grateful gulp. He slid the other cup toward Mace.

"Take care of my date I must," Yaddle said. She patted Obi-Wan's thigh. "Dance any closer though and a fire brigade we shall have to call."

Mace laughed and slid his chair closer to Obi-Wan's. He put his left arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "The training master always told me that you should warm up properly before undertaking a hard workout."

Obi-Wan blushed as Yaddle cackled again. "Almost over is the ball, so leaving I am." She patted Obi-Wan's hand. "Enjoyed the ball I did. Thank you, Padawan Kenobi."

"It was my pleasure, Master Yaddle." Mace's arm on his shoulders kept the apprentice from rising so he bowed from his seat as best he could.

Mace nodded a farewell as Yaddle turned away. He leaned in close to whisper in Obi-Wan's ear, "Here comes someone who is evidently not having a good ball." He squeezed the apprentice's shoulder. "I don't know what Qui-Gon intends, but it is your decision what you wish to do."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. He was still hot and partially erect, a feeling not helped at all by Mace's closeness and the warm breath on the side of his neck.

"Master Windu." Qui-Gon's cold intense tone was low enough not to attract attention from the other tables, but left little doubt as to his displeasure. He stopped a few feet away. He was wearing his diplomat's mask, but his stance was rigid.

"Master Jinn." Mace nodded ever so slightly. "What can we do for you this fine evening?" Mace's voice held a trace of amusement.

"I wish to take exception to that unseemly display you put on out there on the dance floor. Just because you are a Council member does not entitle you to take advantage of young padawans."

"Qui-Gon, I don't know where you've been hibernating the last few years, but while you've been out your apprentice has not only passed the age of consent but turned into a remarkably desirable young man." Mace began walking the fingers of his right hand up Obi-Wan's arm, pulling him a bit closer with the left arm that was still draped around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I have assured him repeatedly that we will not do anything with which he is uncomfortable. He is here because he wants to be, so I suggest you get over whatever your problem is."

"Is this what you want, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked. Even in the dim lights his face was visibly pale; his shoulders were pulled back and his hands were clenched.

"It was perhaps not my original choice, but Master Windu has treated me well." Obi-Wan kept his voice soft and low, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves. He could feel Mace's fingers continue their trip up his arm, and was starting to wonder how far this was going to go. He glanced up at Qui-Gon. "It is just a casual night together. You should certainly understand those."

Two bright spots of red blossomed in Qui-Gon's cheeks. "That was uncalled for."

"On the contrary, it was long overdue," Mace said. His hand moved along Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Why don't you take Trawv home and let us get on with our evening." His hand now rested at the base of Obi-Wan's neck and his forefinger started to caress the jewel in Obi-Wan's choker. "I'm looking forward to getting back to my quarters."

The next instant was a blur of motion. When Obi-Wan looked up, it was to find Qui-Gon leaning over him, one hand fastened around Mace's wrist. "That is mine," Qui-Gon spit out, glaring at Mace.

"Master Jinn, you've had your chances." Mace's voice was low and tight, anger giving his tone a rough edge. "Release me and get your miserable arse out of here."

Qui-Gon blinked, then looked down as if surprised by the position he found himself in. His ragged breath came through flaring nostrils. Slowly he looked up until he was staring into his apprentice's eyes.

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, finally releasing Mace, and straightened. He started again, "Obi-Wan, we need to talk. Come home with me." He paused a moment, drew another breath. "Please."

Obi-Wan sat perfectly still. His senses seemed hypersensitive: the heat of Mace's arm burned his shoulders; the odors of sweat, male musk and herbal soaps tingled in his nose; whispered conversations from the surrounding tables roared in his ears; and his skin prickled. Time seemed to stand still as he stared into his master's blue eyes. Even as he watched, those eyes seemed to darken, to call to him, plead with him. Finally, he made his decision.

"Master Windu," Obi-Wan said softly, "I must make my apologies. I don't think I can accept your invitation."

Mace pulled back and sat up straight. "Is that what you truly want?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan turned to the councilor with a small smile. "I have enjoyed the evening, and I appreciate the offer very much." He looked at his master, who was standing silently. "I think there are definitely some things that Master Jinn and I need to discuss, the sooner the better."

"Then I shall respect your decision." Mace stood up. "Thank you for the evening. I too enjoyed myself, and wish you well." He paused, then smiled. "Perhaps I shall go see if Padawan Trawv desires some company." He nodded to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, then turned and walked away.

Obi-Wan stood up. "Shall we return to our quarters, Master?"

Qui-Gon nodded, and they slowly made their way out of the hall.

The trek back through the Temple was a quiet one. Each man was absorbed in his own thoughts. When they got back to their quarters Qui-Gon took first turn in the fresher. While he waited, Obi-Wan tugged off his boots and socks, then got himself a glass of water.

After relieving himself, Obi-Wan headed for the couch. He noticed Qui-Gon watching him as he paused and adjusted himself in the tight leather before sitting down. He retrieved his glass of water from the side table, took a small sip, and waited.

Qui-Gon sat slouched in the lone chair, hands on the arms, long legs extended. He made an abortive attempt to speak, then pursed his lips and let his head drop. In the long silence that followed neither man moved.

Finally Qui-Gon sighed and looked up at his apprentice. "Obi-Wan, I owe you an apology."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow but did not speak.

Qui-Gon glanced away, breaking eye contact, as he drew a long breath. His jaw worked a few times until he looked back at his apprentice again.

"For the last few years I have refused to fully acknowledge your growing maturity. I was happy with your progress as a Jedi, and proud of you when you were promoted. But I didn't want to see you as a man or give in to my desire to love you as one man would another." He rubbed his hands together as he swallowed hard. "I kept distracting myself, going out with others to keep my mind off you, but none of them meant anything to me."

Obi-Wan stirred. "I will admit to doing some experimenting, but for a long time the only one I have truly wanted has been you. It hurt when you kept pushing me away." He put his glass down, and leaned forward. "You have ignored me for so long that I was fully ready to go with Mace Windu tonight. He genuinely wanted me, and I was losing hope of ever having you notice me."

"I understand, and I am grateful that you came back with me tonight." Qui-Gon abruptly stood up and went to the couch where he sat down next to his apprentice. "Obi-Wan, I am sorry. The only defense I can offer is that I didn't want you to grow up; I didn't want to have to think about you becoming a man. I couldn't bear it because it meant you were growing that much closer to the day you will become a knight and I will lose you from my life." Blue eyes glistened with moisture and his voice was hoarse. "I love you, Obi-Wan, and I don't want to ever lose you."

The sudden lump in his throat almost prevented Obi-Wan from speaking. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, then reached out with one hand to touch Qui-Gon's knee. "I love you, too, Qui-Gon Jinn. I will always love you."

Qui-Gon stared down at the hand on his knee; his own hands were clenched into hard fists on his thighs. "I want to believe, but it has seemed to be only a hopeless dream for so long," he whispered, "Force, I want to believe it could be true." He shuddered.

Obi-Wan leaned forward and took Qui-Gon's head between his hands, forcing him to look up. "Do you love me?" he asked fiercely.

"Yes, with all that I am."

"Then I will make you believe."

Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon's head forward until their lips met then pushed forward, kissing hard until he felt Qui-Gon return the pressure. He briefly broke the contact, long enough to scramble forward and straddle Qui-Gon's thighs.

"I love you, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan leaned forward in another fierce kiss, pushing his tongue in to explore the hot cavity. He felt Qui-Gon responding to his unspoken demands, returning the pressure, long arms pulling him in tight. They pulled apart for a gasping breath, then Obi-Wan dove back in for another long kiss. He ground his body against Qui-Gon, his erection pressing into the master's belly, reveling in the feel of Qui-Gon's eager response.

They paused once more to catch their breath. Obi-Wan rested his forehead against Qui-Gon's forehead, bodies still pressed close together. He slowly ran one hand through Qui-Gon's hair. "I love you... I want you to be part of my life, my heart and soul forever." Obi-Wan swallowed. "But if you have any doubts, this is the time to stop. It would be better if we don't start, because I don't think I could bear it to have you now and lose you later."

"Obi-Wan, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered. "I love you, now and forever."

"I want you... all of you." Obi-Wan stood up and silently offered a hand.

Qui-Gon accepted the offer. He let Obi-Wan pull him up and lead him toward the big sleeping room. Qui-Gon sat down on the bed and let Obi-Wan pull off his boots and socks. He stood up and they took turns kissing and undressing each other until both were naked.

Obi-Wan pulled the covers back and climbed onto the large bed. Qui-Gon dug in a bureau drawer for a moment until he found a bottle of lubricant. He tossed the bottle next to the pillows, then slid into bed behind his new lover. They kissed and stroked, exploring each other's bodies. Obi-Wan lay atop Qui-Gon's long body; their erections rubbing together. He could feel Qui-Gon's heart beating against his own and tasted their mingled salty sweat as he kissed Qui-Gon's face and throat. He felt the calluses on Qui-Gon's hands as those long nimble fingers explored his back, his sides and his arse. The urgency of their shared heat was driving him hard, and more leisurely love-making would have to wait for another time.

"Want you now," Obi-Wan panted.

Qui-Gon started to roll them over, but Obi-Wan pinned him to the mattress, one arm on each shoulder, sitting on Qui-Gon's middle.

"Want to make you mine," Obi-Wan growled.

"But I usually top," Qui-Gon protested. He batted weakly at one of Obi-Wan's arms.

"Don't worry, I like it both ways. If you are a good boy, I will let you take turns," Obi-Wan said, his voice silky and dark. He shifted his hips, digging his erection into Qui-Gon's belly. "You have a lot of making up to do, though, and I don't intend to let you forget it."

"But..." Qui-Gon's eyes were wide. He tried to rock his hips to throw Obi-Wan off.

Obi-Wan swallowed the protest with a hard kiss as he squeezed his thighs around Qui-Gon's middle, wrapping his legs tightly around Qui-Gon's lower body. He broke the kiss and moved swiftly to bite hard at the base of Qui-Gon's neck, drawing a sharp gasp.

"Now, spread your legs," Obi-Wan roughly commanded. "You are mine and I am going to fuck you into ecstasy."

"Yes, Obi-Wan." A look of eager anticipation had replaced the consternation on Qui-Gon's face. He spread his long legs, bending the knees to provide better access.

Obi-Wan grabbed the bottle of lube and spread a generous measure on both hands. He inserted one finger, then two into Qui-Gon's opening while he gently stroked Qui-Gon's cock with his other hand. Obi-Wan rotated his fingers, spreading the tight muscle until he could add a third finger. A whimper drew his attention upward.

"You need to relax," Obi-Wan said. "I don't want to hurt you." He let his fingers rest for a moment as he stroked Qui-Gon's cock a bit harder, pausing to play with the head, running his thumb across the leaking slit. He rotated his fingers again, moving deeper, brushing across the nub inside.

A gasp and appreciative moan rewarded his efforts. "Please, can't last much longer..."

Obi-Wan poured more lube into his hand and spread it on his cock. "Over with you now. It will hurt less this way until we get you into more practice," he leered. He urged Qui-Gon into position, giving him a sharp slap on the rear when Qui-Gon didn't move quickly enough.

The enticing sight of Qui-Gon on his knees, arse in the air, his head down on his pillow, the long back glistening with sweat, sent the last bits of blood in Obi-Wan's upper body into his already-aching cock. When Qui-Gon apparently decided to embrace his new role and shook his oil-streaked arse, Obi-Wan almost came right then and there.

"Slut," Obi-Wan growled as he held his cock tightly at the base to prevent an explosion. He moved in behind Qui-Gon and positioned the head of his rigid organ. Slowly and gently he began pushing in. His hands were on Qui-Gon's lower back, one to support himself and the other rubbing gently in small circles as he eased himself in.

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan breathily moaned. He kept pushing until his cock was completely inside Qui-Gon. "Mmmmm, oh yes." He stopped for a moment, eyes closed, to simply enjoy the incredible sensations of heat and tightness.

Qui-Gon moved, shifting forward and back, arching his back as Obi-Wan's cock moved inside him. He groaned as he clenched his sphincter muscles.

"You want more action?" Obi-Wan asked. Another groan answered him.

Obi-Wan grasped Qui-Gon's hips and pulled back half way. "Let's see how you like this." He began moving in and out, moaning at the snug friction, working to hit Qui-Gon's prostate.

"Oh, yes... Force, yes... there, right there."

Sweat tingled in his eyes and blood roared in his ears and Obi-Wan began moving faster. He slipped one hand around to grab Qui-Gon's cock, fisting it as Qui-Gon rocked his hips to meet the pounding drive.

"I'm coming," yelled Qui-Gon.

Both men were now moving in hard short thrusts, Obi-Wan driving in as Qui-Gon pushed back. Obi-Wan felt his balls tighten and Qui-Gon's cock began to pulse in his hand, his climax causing him to tighten his arse, spasming around Obi-Wan's cock. Obi-Wan shoved hard once, twice, then light exploded as a shock rocketed up his spine. He gasped and fell forward over Qui-Gon's back as hot semen exploded from his organ, surrounding it as it was caught in the tight channel. He was vaguely aware of Qui-Gon collapsing under him, Obi-Wan's cock still embedded.

Several minutes later the two men stirred. Obi-Wan slid off Qui-Gon's sweaty back, his softened cock slipping from Qui-Gon's body. He still felt blood racing but his breathing was slowly returning to normal. He leaned up on one elbow to look at Qui-Gon, who had turned over on his back. He wiped sweat from his face with his other hand. He tilted forward to place a gentle kiss on Qui-Gon's lips.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmmhhhmhm." Qui-Gon's eyes were closed and he had a big loopy smile on his face.

Obi-Wan laughed. He climbed over Qui-Gon and fetched a couple of towels from the fresher. He cleaned off the worst of the sweat and semen, then settled in against Qui-Gon's side before pulling a sheet up over both of them.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured as his arm curled around Obi-Wan. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot for so long."

"Well, you're stuck with me now," Obi-Wan replied cheekily. "So you'll just have to tell your other friends that your dance card is now full."

"Yes, Obi-Wan..."

Obi-Wan glanced up and saw that Qui-Gon had drifted off. He smiled tenderly as he slipped into slumber, his last thought about finding a thank you card to send to Mace and Yaddle for the lovely ball.

Finis