Master Apprentice Archive Behind Closed Doors Quick search:

Archive: Master and Apprentice and SWA-L wonderful, anyone else please ask!

Category: Plot-What-Plot, Qui/Obi

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Smut! Also, I use the word boy here sometimes, but Obi- Wan is in his mid-twenties.

Spoilers: Nope

Summary: An observer watches Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in private.

Feedback: Sure, but be gentle because this is my first time!

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all its characters belong to Lucas, not me. No money is being made from this, but if you want us to stop writing slash, don't have one attractive man call another attractive man Master, 'cause you're just asking for it.

Thanks: To Thalia for the patient and wonderful technical advice! And most of all to the man who told me about me M_A in the first place and provided beta--Naamen.

The Jedi sat at the rounded table, robes and faces long, matching looks of concentration achieved with furrowed brows and steady eyes. The small crouching Tillouk harrumphed to himself. Nothing that was ever said in the negotiations seemed to faze them, or even jar a hasty response. The older one was an odd mix of kindness and confidence, at once sympathetic with those he was interacting with and forceful with his suggestions. The younger one was endlessly serious, scowling at the proceedings with the air of one who was on the very cusp of being let out on his own and was considering everything with a tad too much effort. They sat next to one another day after day, the young one always on his Master's left, his chair pulled slightly back so that he might be respectfully behind him, and they conducted themselves with the utmost dignity. The force sensitive Tillouk couldn't read a damn thing about them, not one. And he didn't trust anyone who displayed such serenity for one moment. Serenity, he thought, his little feathered bony ass.

Then something interesting happened, on the third day of negotiations just after mid-meal. The younger one began to fidget. Granted, a Jedi fidget wasn't quite glaringly obvious, but it was a fidget nonetheless, the Tillouk was sure of it. The apprentice was shifting almost imperceptibly in his chair, as if he were sitting on something that was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The Master Jedi noticed too, and his eyes shifted towards the younger one without actually looking at him before returning his attention back to the bickering before him. But not long afterwards he cleared his throat and suggested a break, his smooth voice giving not the slightest indication of what was afoot. His tone being almost hypnotizing, the Governor quickly agreed with him and gave the participants 20 min.s to "sooth their nerves" with a grand gesture of her hand. Amidst the pretentious rustle of gilded cloaks and official papers the Jedi rose and moved in unison to the chamber entrance with quiet determination… only to be thwarted at the last moment by a gregarious senator who insisted they join him for refreshments.

The Tillouk watched the Jedi Master try to soothingly disentangle himself with great humor. Diplomacy was such a distasteful game, he thought, especially when one was bound to being polite. His gaze traveled to the Padawan, and he noticed that there was a line of sweat breaking out along his upper lip, accompanied by a general look of distress. The Tillouk narrowed his eyes. The proceedings were of great meaning, with high stakes on either side, and it was of the utmost importance that the Jedi were trustworthy. What were they rushing away to? And what was wrong with the apprentice? Something was going on, and the Tillouk intended to find out precisely what it was.

When the Jedi finally broke away, the Tillouk slipped out behind them and followed at several paces. The bluish light of the oval hallway settled on them with illuminating intensity, making them appear to glow. Was it his imagination, or were the monk-like strides of the Jedi becoming longer and more swift? The Tillouk made a deft cut into a service corridor, taking a shortcut to the Jedi's quarters. Once there he keyed in his administrative code and entered quickly, settling himself on the uppermost beams with a grunt. Shielding himself from their senses, he perched completely still and waited to discover the Jedi's secret.

The door slid shut behind the Jedi and with incredible speed, they sprang into action. The Tillouk blinked, shocked. The two suffered a complete breakdown of decorum. The Master had his apprentice slammed against the wall and the two were moaning crazily and rubbing their bodies and mouths together in a mad frenzy. The Tillouk couldn't quite see their hands due to the yards of cloth that blanketed every part of the Jedi's bodies, but he felt certain that they were employed in actions that were very un-Jedi like indeed. "Hurry!" the young one said in desperation, and his Master lifted him off the floor and pushed his knees back against his chest, using his own knees to balance the young man while he arranged him. Back against the wall and boots sticking out on either side of his Master's shoulders, the apprentice panted while the Master grouped beneath him and pulled his Padawan's leggings just past his pale buttocks, exposing the boy to his master's cloaks. The younger man tried to writhe, but couldn't, and moaned instead, pleading now. "Please", he whispered, "Please hurry!" The Master looked at his apprentice's pained expression, then reached out and called a small bottle to him from the counter on the other side of the room. Jamming his thumb inside the bottle, he roughly fingered the Padawan's inflamed anus, causing the apprentice to cry out and affix him with begging, if unfocused eyes. "You're so swollen here" the Master said softly, and the boy nodded, agreeing. "Yes Master, I need this very badly." The Master nodded too and moved to free himself with quick, jerky movements.

Finally, with one swift and oiled thrust he took the boy, covering the apprentice's mouth with his hand as the younger one screamed, and then replacing his hand with his mouth. The Master began to thrust inside the younger man, his hands slipping down to grip the boy's flanks and pry the tightened globes further apart. The apprentice was nearly incoherent now, producing a steady stream of words through gritted teeth, telling his Master to go harder, that fuck, he was hitting his spot, and that it was good, so good. It was rough and frantic, and from his vantage point in the rafters the Tillouk could see the angry reddened head of the boy's penis poking up between the two, rasped repeatedly against the coarse fabric. And then the Padawan's eyes were rolling back into his head and the Master was abruptly covering his mouth again as the apprentice came on the folds of his own tunic, banging his head back against the wall and whimpering into the palm of his Master in pitiful cries. "Easy Obi-Wa-" the Master said, his sentence cut off as his body too went rigid and he clamped his mouth shut.

After a few moments, the Master very gently set his apprentice down and carefully led him over to the sink. Wordlessly he worked to wash the spots off of the younger man's clothes, and then fell to methodically rearranging, retying, and straightening them. The late afternoon sun fell on the two from the slanted window, causing the silver in the Master's hair to shine and the green-blue of the Padawan's eyes to stand out like beacons. The apprentice just stood there with his arms hanging loosely at his sides and watched his Master work with the most intense and glowing gaze, his face seemingly fixed into the expression that just precedes a smile-- soft at the corners of the eyes and mouth. Eventually his Master looked up too, and stared for a long time at the apprentice in complete stillness, the same look reflected on his own face. Ahhh, the Tillouk thought, there it is. It is not just lust, it is love. After looking at each other for some time, the two held hands to the door, and as it opened, slipped their hands back into their own cavernous sleeves and stepped solemnly into the hall.

The Tillouk sat for a moment, waiting for the corridor to clear. So, he thought, no villainous plot, only gratuitous mammalian rutting. He shook his head and grinned to himself. He'd leave these two alone, they weren't so bad. His grin broadened further. Serenity indeed.