The Talk

by Lorraine (Blucola@aol.com)

Archive: M_A, Nutters Inc and anyone who asks
Pairing: Q/O
Category: PWP, humor, brief visit from Sub!Qui
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Obi-Wan wants his master and the master knows it, time for 'the talk'.
Disclaimer: These Jedi do nothing Lucas ever planned for them, but he should have. He owns them, I don't. *sniff*
Feedback: Oh yes, yes, please! :)
These segments are quite short, but since I posted them one at a time on my livejournal, I think that's how they should be posted now. Special thanks to my Master, for stating quite mournfully that there are too few bj fics, Auntie Raina for her encouragement, Padawan Cousin Susi for jumping on the Sub!Qui bandwagon and Mater Ruth for feeding me the line; "on your knees Master!"

"Sex, Master. I-I wanna have sex now. With you, sex... p-please." This inane litany was confessed half to the air, half to himself, then ended with a desperate moan as the object of Obi-Wan Kenobi's lust, Qui-Gon Jinn, ended a particularly challenging kata.

He watched his master stalk gracefully to one side of the training salle and pick a towel up off the floor. Carelessly he wiped away the sweat that glistened on his arms, chest and back. Obi-Wan's fingers itched to snatch the towel out of his master's hands and soak up one errant drop that streaked down the curve of Qui-Gon's spine.

Qui-Gon looked up, as if he could feel the hot eyes that followed his every movement, then sighed in resignation at the look on Obi-Wan's face. He was quite aware of the young padawan's feelings for his old master. Apparently the time had arrived for 'the talk.'

It was a pity, he had hoped he would have been able to hold it off perhaps a little longer. He was at a tricky stage in his padawan's training, the young man being at that age where teenage boys seem to always want to rebel against authority. If Obi-Wan were to feel he was being rejected, what would this do to that all important trust between them? He didn't relish the coming conversation.

More than his worries about authority issues, though, Qui-Gon worried about hurting his tender-hearted padawan. Obi-wan was incredibly innocent. The prospect of causing him any amount of pain was like a ball of fire twisting in Qui-Gon's chest.

The boy was beautiful, there was no doubt, but he was also his master's responsibility and joy. Qui-Gon Jinn knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was his highest achievement, his greatest success with a padawan learner. What was to happen in the next few hours would take the utmost skill and delicacy. The young man deserved no less.

Obi-Wan watched his master, a puzzled look on his face. 'Why is Master Qui-Gon staring at me so intently?' He stood and waited while his master walked over to him, unaccountably growing more nervous by the second.

"Padawan, we need to talk,' Qui-Gon said gently.

Lambent green eyes looked up at Obi-Wan's master in concern, "is there something wrong?"

Qui-Gon reached up to place a light touch on his apprentice's cheek. "No Padawan, you have done nothing wrong," he paused, "but we do have some serious issues to discuss."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Whatever you say, Master. Shall we meet in our quarters after your shower?"

Qui-Gon grinned, that was his Obi-wan, always the first to take initiative. "Yes, my impatient Apprentice, I will meet you there within a cycle." He suddenly drew the young man in for a brief hug, much like he would have done when Obi-Wan was much younger. In the past, he would have shuddered away from the sweaty embrace. Now, though, he could feel the love-struck boy shuddering into the embrace. Oh yes, this talk was way overdue.

He pushed the boy off to an arms length away, then snapped his towel at him. "Off with you then. Let an old man shower in peace."

Obi-Wan giggled, then snatched the end of the towel in mid-air as it made its way toward him in another snap. Slowly, he pulled the slack from it, hand over hand, then used the resulting tension to draw his master closer. "Who's an old man? I see no old men in this room," he spoke the words softly, seriously, then drew away in a whisper of movement. He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe, bowed gracefully at the hip and took his leave of his master.

Qui-Gon watched him walk away wondering, belatedly, who was really the love-struck fool?

Obi-Wan closed the door to the training salle and then leaned against it, his forehead cooling against it's smooth plasteel surface. What had he gotten himself into? He knew his master wasn't ready, he hadn't startled one single heated look from the man and now he, Obi-Wan expected him to just roll over and admit his undying love?

"Foolish, Obi-Wan," he muttered, "you're gonna get so burned..."

"Obi?"

He stiffened and then turned around to face his best friend."Bant, oh gods, I'm toast," he whined mournfully.

Bant grabbed Obi-Wan by the upper arm, "walk with me, I'm on my way to Astrophysics, but you can tell me what foolishness you've gotten yourself into this time."

Obi-Wan nodded, then fell into step beside the calamarian."It's bad," he started.

"As bad as the time you filled Master Windu's boots with vanilla pudding?"

Obi-Wan winced, then nodded. "That was just a dare, this is really serious."

"I remember the really serious pounding Master Windu gave you in saber training after that happened, you had scorch marks on your leggings!" Bant chuckled as she reminisced, then sobered when she realized that Obi-Wan hadn't even cracked a smile at what she knew he now considered a funny incident. She gasped. "Obi-Wan, you didn't-"

Obi-Wan nodded, "oh yes, Bant, I did, now I have to get back to our rooms and prepare myself for `the talk'", he sighed.

"Be honest with him," Bant advised. "He will never take you seriously if you try to joke your way out of this, but don't push. Open up your shields to him, so he knows that everything you say is real and above all, don't fear. If you show any, then it's over before it ever started." They reached the rooms Obi-Wan shared with his master, Bant stopped and faced herfriend, "you're going to be OK Obi-Wan, whatever happens here, call me, OK?"

Obi-Wan hugged Bant. "Thank you, I know what I need to do now." He palmed open the door and stepped inside, then turned again to say to goodbye. "You're a good friend, Bant," he said, then shut the door. He took a deep breath, walked into the living area and then settled himself onto the floor to meditate while he awaited his master's arrival.

To his everlasting surprise, Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan deep in meditation by the time he palmed the lock to their door and let himself in. He quietly sat down on the ottoman and patiently waited for his padawan to surface.

Several long minutes passed before Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Qui-Gon stifled the urge to shift uncomfortably, that gaze was so green, so calm, so knowing. His apprentice would probably be amused if he realised how undone Qui-Gon found himself from just a single look.

No one else had this effect on him, Qui-Gon mused. As a matter of fact, when had Obi-Wan gained this ability? It had to be a new thing. Or was it, how long had he been in the thrall of this tight young body? One cycle, one glimpse into the inner yearnings of a young, definitely hormonal male mind? Surely not. He was Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master, he was not ruled by lust.

Obi-Wan stood in one fluid movement, the serene smile on his face reflecting the inner peace he'd achieved while he'd awaited his master. Thank the little gods for Bant, he thought, I'd be a wreck by now if it weren't for her. He approached his master, where he still sat and sank to his knees before him.

Qui-Gon reached out a hand to cup Obi-Wan's cheek. "Padawan, it's time for that talk."

Obi-Wan nodded, then placed a kiss on the pad of Qui-Gon's thumb. The older man gasped and snatched his hand away. Qui-Gon placed his hands on his own knees and strove to control his suddenly erratic breathing. He shut his eyes and reached for that place of calm he knew was there, buried beneath these inappropriately lustful feelings that churned inside him.

When he thought he'd achieved the desired serenity, he began. "Padawan, let me first say, that these emotions are completely normal, given the circumstances. You and I are together, most every day, almost all day." He stood and paced around, warming to his planned speech. "So it's only natural you might feel inclined to-" he stopped, "I mean want to-" Another stop. "Um..." He made the mistake of looking into those green eyes again. "Padawan..."

Obi-Wan slid back onto his heels and raised up himself into a stance with all the grace of a dancer. His own plans of serious considered discussion faded as he came to the realisation that his master was just as affected by his apprentice as the apprentice was by the master.

From a place he knew not where, a scheming sex kitten was born. Gone was the awkwardness of innocent youth, Obi-Wan knew what he wanted and it wasn't a talk about the foolishness of an excitable teenaged cock. He wanted to put that cock to good use, buried deep within the man who regarded him with trepidation and perhaps just a touch of awe.

He smiled.

Obi-Wan stalked over to his master. "Do you really want to talk, Qui-Gon?" He slid a warm hand into gap between the other man's tunics and his skin. "Don't we talk everyday?" The hand slid lower and encountered the nub of a male nipple. "Do you not get tired of the endless lessons?" He pinched the nipple lightly and savored the gasp of pain it elicited from the other man.

Obi-Wan soothed the sting with his fingers even as his mouth sought out his master's.

Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan back slightly, a warning in his eyes. Obi-Wan sighed, he'd been so close... Then he squeaked as those strong hands grasping his shoulders pulled him against a hard chest and his master's lips swooped down to cover his own. He whimpered and surrendered into the embrace.

A voice in Qui-Gon's head shouted in satisfaction. He'd regained control, at least for now. He worked his mouth over the young lips beneath his, almost bruising them in his intensity. His hands slid down the curve of Obi-Wan's back and cupped his buttocks, he kneaded the flesh firmly, pulling the cheeks apart as if this would be enough to loosen the tight puckered hole they concealed. He growled against Obi-Wan's mouth and impatiently ripped his leggings down so he could slide his fingers into the cleft of the young man's ass.

Gone was his vaunted Jedi control. Qui-Gon's world had shrank, if indeed that was the correct word, between his legs and hands and centered around a certain young siren. Obi-Wan stretched and rubbed himself against his master, his mouth locked in passion against the other mouth. He was shaking all over and humping against Qui-Gon who had managed to breach the opening of his anus with one thick index finger and was sliding it slowing inside, searching, searching... Qui-Gon growled in exhultation as he was successful in his search as evidenced by the keening groan that broke, muffled from his padawan.

Obi-Wan tore his lips free from his master's mouth and rested his forehead against the older man's chest. He panted as the opening to his body was worked with skill. But he couldn't control the wince as that finger began to make his flesh burn with discomfort. Qui-Gon stilled and with visible effort, pulled his finger free from the sensitive hole. He then pulled his emotions together and stepped away from his padawan, ignoring Ob-Wan's cry of dismay. He ran his fingers through his hair, tearing loose the tie that bound it and steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the musty scent of his padawan that clung to his fingers.

Several deep breaths later, he felt more in control of himself than he had in what was it, a mere 5 minutes? His lips curved up tenderly as he regarded the uncertain face of his padawan. "It's time for that talk now, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan gulped.

Obi-Wan pulled his leggings up with hands that shook uncontrollably. The torn waist flopped between his fingers making his his efforts to cover his buttocks and genitals frustratingly difficult. He gave up and simply stood before his master with the torn fabric bunched in his left fist. His right hand he used to rake his fingers through his short spiky hair, then pat down its wildness.

His heart was filled with dread, but his outer face, the one he presented to the world was the very picture of Jedi serenity. His shields were up, rock solid. Silently he faced his master and waited.

Qui-Gon regarded the man before him with kindness, pride and approval radiating from him in waves. "I would like to tell you something, Obi-Wan, something very important."

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath. "Yes Master?" He asked, unsteadily.

"Training you has been a a joy, each day, each new lesson presented its own challenges. But you have met each of these challenges with a dignity far surpassing your young years, " he paused, then looked into Obi-Wan's eyes ruefully. "I have to admit, when I told you we needed to talk, I had something entirely different in mind to say." He stepped forward and took the bunched fabric out of Obi-Wan's hands. His fingers played with the frayed edges of the torn leggings, his eyes now downcast and concealing the emotion buried within their depths.

His voice, when it finally came was soft, almost a whisper, "I no longer wish to have that talk, Obi-Wan. The events of these past several minutes have entirely changed things between us. We can no longer simply be master and padawan." He lifted his head, his expression made stern to silence the mournful cry that issued from Obi-Wan's throat. "Do not misunderstand me, my padawan."

"Master, we can go back," Obi-Wan said, desperate. "We can forget this ever happened."

"Silence, Padawan."

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice small.

"I have no desire to go back," the Jedi master chuckled. "What I want, is this," with that said, Qui-Gon let go of Obi-Wan's leggings and watched them pool around the younger man's boots. His gaze then shifted up, finally settling on the hopeful erection that stirred in its nest of russet curls.

"What do you say, Padawan?"

What do I say? Thought Obi-Wan, I say on your knees Master! He coughed to conceal the chuckle that his own thoughts prompted. He was so relieved and incredibly aroused and- why the hell am I not in his arms right now? With a squeal of joy he launched himself at his master and tangled himself up in his leggings in the process.

Qui-Gon caught his padawan, then pulled him hard against his chest only barely managing to keep them both upright. "Steady, Obi-Wan, there's no rush."

Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek against the older man's beard with feline sensuousness. "Oh no, Master, I heartily disagree. Would you deny a starving man a movable feast?" He then found a smooth patch of skin on his Master's neck and proceeded to devour him.

Stunned into immobility, Qui-Gon held onto the young man, moaning at the feel of the firm suctioning that was drawing the blood from his skin and raising a mark of ownership. A thrill shot through his groin. That's Obi-Wan's mark, he thought, stupidly. His brain was truly melting. Once again he was in the thrall of his padawan, the Master easily mastered. He wondered, in the part of his brain that was still functioning, if Obi-Wan even knew this?

Obi-Wan broke away from the hickey he'd formed on his master's skin and looked up. In that instant they both acknowledged that a power shift was imminent and that both of them accepted it. Suddenly sober, Obi-Wan assumed his new role.

"Remove my leggings," he commanded Qui-Gon. The gray head of his master nodded, then knelt and bent to his task. First he went to the fastenings of Obi-Wan's boots, undoing them with the swiftness of one who'd dealt with the buckles on this fashion of boots for many years.

One by one he removed the boots and socks, then placed a kiss on the instep of each foot. Free of the encumbrance of boot leather, the leggings fell down of their own accord. With a tap on each shin, Qui-Gon indicated that Obi-Wan should step out and free of them. He ran his hands over Obi-Wan's flanks, knowing he hadn't been given leave to do so yet, but unable to control himself.

He nuzzled against the silky skin of his padawan's cock and looked up, his eyes begging permission.

"Taste me, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan instructed, then let his eyes drift shut as the warm mouth of his master engulfed his cock. Slowly and with the surety of long years of practice, the talented mouth worked him,

Qui-Gon held the slender hips steady with hands so large and powerful, the fingertips almost met on his backside. He controlled the involuntary thrusting of those hips, not ready just yet, to allow Ob-Wan to fuck his mouth.

His tongue slipped under the flap of foreskin that covered the crown of Obi-Wan's penis. The young man cried out at the exquisite sensations that burst through his sex as the sensitive underside was teased delicately. For long moments, he stood, savoring just that sensation, the waves of pleasure breaking over him in gentle undulating waves.

Then that wicked tongue moved to the slit which was leaking copious amounts of precum. Obi-Wan almost came when he realised that his master was savoring the taste of him, suddenly wishing he could reciprocate but too boneless with pleasure to make the effort, just yet.

Nonsensical sounds issued from his lips and words of love, pleasure and devotion. His voice sometimes low, other times high and keening as a particularly sensitive spot was stimulated. His fingers were buried in Qui-Gon's hair, petting him as if he were a particularly beloved cat.

He was drifting, his entire being focused on the slow and steady pleasure his master's mouth was delivering, then Qui-Gon swallowed Obi-Wan's penis whole, to the root and it put him on the very edge of orgasm. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open and looked down at the mouth that engulfed his cock, blue eyes glittered up at him, urging him on. The power between them shifted again. Then he came.

Like a rocket and stronger than any he'd ever gotten masturbating himself, Obi-Wan's orgasm ripped through his spine and surged outward, pulsing hot jets into Qui-Gon's mouth. When it was over and his padawan's legs had stopped shaking, Qui-Gon released his hold on the softening cock in his mouth and pulled his padawan down into an open mouthed kiss.

Obi-Wan devoured the mouth that covered his and then stiffened in shock. With a tilt of his head Qui-Gon poured the small reserve of Obi-Wan's semen that he'd hoarded in his mouth, then pushed Obi-Wan's head back, so he'd be forced to swallow it. Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered as he savored the taste of himself. His heart beat a steady tattoo as arousal flared through him once again. Through the haze of passion he regarded his master who was wearing quite a self-satisfied grin.

"First times are meant to be shared, Padawan," he said and then, "I love you Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's lips trembled, his eyes moist and adoring. A tear broke free and he smiled. "Yes," was all he said and then he burrowed against his master. Overcome to incoherence, he was none the less more secure and content than he'd been a mere few hours previous when he'd thought he'd ruined things with his master forever. He bit his lip and sobbed against his master's chest.

Qui-Gon simply held him, occasionally pressing soft kisses to the top of that russet head. He'd never known a more perfect or beautiful moment before in his entire life. He loved and was loved in return. He would never want anything else.

-FIN-