Archive: M_A, yes. Any others, if you want it, just ask so I
know where it went.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Categories/Content: First time, light bondage, a little toying
with D/s; and copious use of my Obi-topping-from-the bottom
kink.
Spoilers: Nah, Pre-TPM
Summary: Obi-Wan is permitted to choose their next mission and
his selection puzzles Qui-Gon: it involves a world that prizes
strict categorization of dominant and submissive
individuals.
Feedback: If you are so inclined and can spare the time,
absolutely. Constructive criticism included in that welcome, of
course.
Disclaimer: I'm already poor, please don't sue me. No copyright
infringement intended. The boys have been returned unharmed. I
even bathed them. With soap and water this time, I swear it.
"It will be humbling." Obi-Wan grinned and returned to the
controls of their transport, his trademark twinkle lighting his
eyes.
Qui-Gon snorted softly and let the discussion drop. He
couldn't help but regret having left Obi-Wan to deal with the
Council when they'd last been on Coruscant. He'd had a number
of things to follow-up on with their last mission and Obi-Wan
had been entrusted to debrief the Council. As a token of their
gratitude for their hard work of late, the Council had allowed
Obi-Wan to choose their next assignment from a selection of
four possibilities. That little session had led to his Padawan
volunteering them for this current mission, though he couldn't
fathom why.
The social structure of Frellia was such that Obi-Wan would be
treated as a very junior subordinate, a social submissive. The
nature of their Master/Padawan relationship and Obi-Wan's
supposedly tender age made it inevitable. Men and women on
Frellia did not come into their independent status until
twenty-five standard years, and even then a great many
Frellians voluntarily remained social submissives. Obi-Wan was
barely twenty three; his social status would not be by choice.
Obi-Wan was not particularly vain, but neither was he atypical
of most young men his age in that he craved acceptance as a
self governing individual; he could imagine Obi-Wan accepting
this mission stoically, but to volunteer?
Besides that, the nature of the mission also gave Qui-Gon
reason for suspicion of Obi-Wan's motives for offering
themselves. They were to witness the renewal of the Frellian
Continental Alliance, an event held every twenty years to
solidify the bond between the planet's two independent
continents and to celebrate the formation of the new planetary
ruling house. A symbolic wedding would take place, a member of
the ruling party of the South to a member of the North.
Together, they would represent Frellia's interests in the
Republic for next twenty year cycle.
The Jedi presence was merely a formality, making sure the
Southern continent had no qualm about their representative
taking their turn as submissive ruler; the Northern
representative had been the submissive ruler last Cycle. This
system had been smoothly working on Frellia for centuries, and
neither continent had objected to their position in recent
history.
Therefore, nothing adventurous would occur on Frellia, and in
fact, boring receptions with species physically incompatible
with their own promised to be the routine for their five day
stay. It could in no way result in a romantic interlude for the
young Jedi. No exhilarating escapades, no flirtations with
young people and forced social obsequiousness; this was most
definitely not the type of mission his Padawan would choose for
them, when given that rare opportunity.
Obi-Wan was apparently aware of the conditions of the mission
before he volunteered them for the duty, and had in fact
briefed Qui-Gon himself over their noon meal that day,
indicating that very scant information was provided, as little
had been necessary. The good cheer with which Obi-Wan relayed
the details caused shivers to ripple down the Master's
spine.
Oh, Qui-Gon had a bad feeling about this.
The ceremony was as tedious as he thought it would be, though
Qui-Gon had to admit that he was enjoying his Padawan's
constant prostrating. Serves the boy right, Qui-Gon chuckled to
himself as Obi-Wan once again collapsed at his feet, having
brought his master a cup of wine.
"That's sufficient, Obi-Wan, please get up now." Qui-Gon could
barely restrain his smirk.
Obi-Wan obediently stood, moving to the left and just behind
his Master's shoulder. "So glad you're amused, Master."
Qui-Gon had to give him credit, Obi-Wan was handling it all
with good grace and subtle humor. There was still a sense of
unease nagging him, though. There was a reason Obi-Wan selected
this mission. Oh, he didn't think Obi-Wan would do anything
duplicitous exactly... but his Padawan had a definite
mischievous streak.
"Will I be as amused when I discover what you are up to,
Padawan?"
Obi-Wan's reply died before it left his lips as the Southern
Continent's Chief Magistrate approached. "No need to bow again,
young man. Your respect of your elders and Master Jinn is quite
evident," the magistrate smiled. Though humanoid, the
Frellian's skin glowed a subtle hue of pink, their natural skin
oils making the species becoming to the eye. But that oil was
also toxic to many other humanoid species, making
inter-relations deadly for both Jedi. Thus, the magistrate
nodded to Qui-Gon rather than shake his ungloved hand.
"Things seem to have gone well, Magister Tev. I trust that it
appears so to you as well?" Qui-Gon inquired casually.
"Oh, most definitely. And you, along with your Padawan, have
made this Cycle's Renewal even more festive than usual," Tev
enthused sincerely. More festive that usual, Qui-Gon groaned to
himself. If this was festive...
"And I can tell you that all of Frellia is honored by your
Padawan's graciousness and lovely submission to you. Your gift
will be most memorable, and will doubly bless this Frellian
union... Now if you pardon me, I must speak to Magister Gorn
about the details of your performance. We will apprise you of
the schedule as soon as possible." Another joyous nod, and the
man was off in search of the Chief Magistrate of the Northern
Continent.
Qui-Gon slowly turned to face his apparently nefarious
Padawan. A series of expressions rapidly skittered across the
young man's face, but Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn caught and
catalogued each and every one. Guilt, as he had suspected while
Tev spoke, was the first. Followed by a quickly hidden triumph,
then calculation-- was the boy actually scheming at that very
moment? And finally... the tiniest quirk of fear. It too was
hidden away and within a mere second, Obi-Wan's face was
carefully blank.
"I trust you are going to tell me what this performance will
entail-- and I trust that you will do so very quickly,
Padawan." He knew his own expression brooked no argument.
"My submission to you during these days here has pleased the
Frellians, Master," Obi-Wan began with a hopeful, yet
appropriately reticent smile.
"I gathered as much."
"You see... it seems that Frellia is enlightened enough to
realize that not all cultures have the same social custom of
the young publicly demonstrating their respect. It would seem
that they only expect this degree of deference from their own
young and the voluntary submissives..."
"And thus your own constant prostrating has led us to what,
exactly, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon was quickly losing patience, though
only his Padawan would notice the sternness underneath his
serene façade.
Obi-Wan was again forestalled, as both Magister Gorn and
Magister Tev approached, each wearing a gleeful
expression.
"It has been decided," Gorn announced as he clasped his rosy
hands together. "Your demonstration will take place tomorrow at
dusk in the Royal ceremonial bed chamber, with the new Frellia
Ruling Party in attendance. I can't tell you how pleased we are
that the Jedi are going to gift us with such a display... The
unconditional deference of the submissive and the physical
gratitude of his dominant! Performed by Jedi, no less! This
datapad lists all of the sensual aids that will be on hand for
the performance of your gift. Your generosity deserves a
setting fit for this honor you do us. Oh, this Cycle will most
assuredly be blessed!"
Obi-Wan took the pad and bowed low, the picture of serenity
though Qui-Gon could feel waves of apprehension rolling from
him. "Thank you, Magister."
"Ah, Master Jinn," Tev sighed. "A lucky man, you are. Your
Padawan is a gem of humility. I look forward to witnessing your
bodily acceptance of it."
Qui-Gon exerted inordinate control to keep his jaw from
falling to the tiled floor. "Oh yes, a gem and more,"
Qui-Gon managed, though he could feel his cheeks burn. The
Magisters nodded, this time the gesture taking on an almost
conspiratorial air, and they walked away together, their
pleasure at the Jedi's upcoming 'performance' giving their skin
a warm iridescence.
"It's time to retire for the evening, Obi-Wan. We will discuss
this in our chambers."
He struggled not to hasten his steps too much; he didn't want
the Frellians to suspect his distress... But what in name of
everything unholy had his Padawan done?
"I didn't expect a public display, Master!" Obi-Wan insisted,
looking up from his knees at Qui-Gon, sincerity in his
blue-green gaze.
"But you willingly and knowingly led me into this situation
nonetheless." Qui-Gon could barely speak. He was positively
stunned that Obi-Wan would manipulate him this way. Simply to
get sex from him.
Obi-Wan had fully briefed himself on Frellian culture
before accepting and then informing Qui-Gon of his choice in
their assignment. He'd known that for offworlders to display
such blatant submission to another of their species was an
invitation... an invitation for the Frellians to ask to witness
the most intimate of submissions. Obi-Wan had not yet reached
the age of social independence, but he had surpassed that of
sexual independence by two years.
For Obi-Wan to have behaved as such during the festivities of
a state wedding, along with Qui-Gon's unknowing complicity, was
a symbolic wedding gift from a bonded dominant and submissive;
a promise to honor the marriage by demonstrating the total
submission of one, and the acceptance and gratitude of the
other. To show that the two, each accepting his role, made the
whole stronger. It would be a symbolic wish for the union of
North and South on Frellia to continue to function the same
way.
To refuse would be disastrous and possibly lead to the first
planetary incident on Frellia in three hundred years.
Qui-Gon rested his head in his hands and sighed heavily. Only
Obi-Wan could have gotten them into this with his wicked little
mind.
"It wasn't a prank, Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan suddenly stood,
meek no more.
"I honestly did not realize the demonstration would be public.
But I had every intention of making the gesture formally
nonetheless."
Qui-Gon stared, dumbstruck.
"I cannot and will not pretend any longer that this bond
between us exists only for training. If there is one thing you
have taught me, Master, it's that ignoring a truth does not
make it an untruth."
Qui-Gon struggled with his anger, it being the only emotion to
have control as his mind absorbed what Obi-Wan was saying.
"What do you want me to say, that I desire you? I do and you
know it. Yes, Padawan, I taught you the dangers of avoiding
truths. It is also a truth that some paths are best left not
taken. There was a reason that I have not pursued more in my
bond with you. Did you think that as a Jedi Master that I was
oblivious to this between us? I have been well aware of the
physical attraction between us, and I have not ignored it. I
have simply chosen not to pursue it. And you, by your
machinations, have taken that choice away from me."
Obi-Wan had the most curious expression on his face;
realization and calm. Qui-Gon had just told him that they could
not pursue a physical, romantic relationship; he had in fact
accused him of a violation of the most intimate nature, and yet
Obi-Wan was more serene than he'd seen him in months.
"Well, I suppose arguing about it will not solve the problem.
Discipline me after this mess is over, but the current truth is
that tomorrow at dusk, I am expected to grant you my body and
you are expected to take it."
Qui-Gon's throat constricted. Of course he wanted to take that
body. He wasn't blind, he wasn't a fool. His Padawan had grown
sleek and strong and so bright, so full of goodness... Oh yes,
how he wanted him!
But how could he take advantage? A Padawan depends on his
Master for guidance. A Master must maintain the power structure
between he and his Apprentice if the Padawan is to learn from
his teacher and become the best he can be. To add a sexual
relationship into that power structure...That type of dominance
lends itself too easily for abuse. Obi-Wan was simply too
important to him to risk undermining his future.
But now it seemed that he had no choice. It was ironic in the
extreme that he would soon be forced to take that which he had
most stringently tried to resist.
"Go. Meditate on how your actions have led us to this point.
And then get some sleep. Thanks to your deviousness, we have a
rather trying day ahead of us tomorrow."
Qui-Gon turned his back, numb. He heard a gentle sigh and then
the soft click of the door to Obi-Wan's bedchamber. He turned
to stare at it. Ornate relief carvings in the wood, it was
solid and strong, just like his Apprentice. And yet...His mind
could not grasp just how Obi-Wan could have been so reckless.
And it was not like him to be so selfish.
Qui-Gon leaned back on the divan and took a sip from his water
goblet. Well, perhaps he'd forgotten that Obi-Wan had his
faults. He'd come to accept only perfection from his Padawan,
as that was all he'd given him of late. It seemed that he'd not
done Obi-Wan any favors by keeping silent about their mutual
attraction. He'd assumed that through their bond, Obi-Wan just
knew it should remain unspoken.
Obi-Wan must have been reaching a critical point to be so
blatantly manipulative. The fact that his actions were so very
contrary to his nature was a signal in itself that Obi-Wan must
have needed guidance with his feelings before this mission.
Guilt crept through Qui-Gon's spine and settled into the back
of his skull, fermenting into a pounding headache. Obi-Wan's
actions weren't excused, of course, but Qui-Gon had his own
actions to deconstruct as well.
Meditation, he decided resolutely.
His body felt physically heavy with his emotional burden as he
rose and entered his own bedchamber. As he settled onto his
knees, he hoped Obi-Wan was able to find his center and rest;
he had the feeling he himself wouldn't be getting much
sleep.
They had very little to say to each other the following
morning. Qui-Gon promised Obi-Wan that they would have
exhaustive discussions about their relationship and Obi-Wan's
deceit once they left Frellia, but otherwise he was
quiet.
Obi-Wan cautiously asked if he wanted to see the datapad list
of 'available items' they would have at their disposal, but
Qui-Gon resolutely shook his head no, replying that the Force
would guide him when the time came. What he didn't say was that
he just couldn't let himself dwell upon it. He couldn't let
himself want it so much. It was for the predicament alone that
he would be doing this. He had to remember that.
Obi-Wan's serene smile at his internal struggle only
exasperated him. How could the boy be so at peace? Knowing what
he had forced them into, knowing that he would be humbled and
physically taken in front of the new Frellian royals? That
Obi-Wan would apparently crave such total domination of his
body that he would go to such lengths to get it... It disturbed
Qui-Gon as much as his own acknowledgement that he too craved
it.
Oh Force, he tried not to anticipate it so damned much.
One hour before dusk, Obi-Wan was taken by royal servants to
be prepared for the performance. Qui-Gon had finally spoken to
his Apprentice long enough to find out what would be officially
required of him, so when Obi-Wan left their rooms, they were
prepared for what would come.
Prepared... now that was a laugh, Qui-Gon decided as he paced
in the common room of their suite. There were no ritual words
to memorize, true enough... and no particular checklist of acts
to follow-- the only requirement being that he make love to
Obi-Wan, and that to the Frellians it should look as if he
cherished his Padawan's submission to him. How they achieved it
was up to them.
But knowing what they were required to do, did not make
Qui-Gon feel truly prepared. How could he be prepared to be
given everything he dreamed but knew was wrong to take?
A rap on the door brought him out of his reverie and starkly
into the moment. In a room on the other side of the palace,
Obi-Wan was waiting.
His soft boots made little noise as he followed the attendants
through the halls. The increasing number of guards on patrol
was Qui-Gon's indication that they were getting closer to the
royals' personal quarters. A feeling of vulnerability crashed
over him; he was wearing only light leggings and his casual
boots, with his cloak wrapped protectively around him.
The thought exploded through his mind that very soon he'd be
completely naked in front of them, as would Obi-Wan... the
reality of what was upon him threatened to weaken his
knees.
Finally they stopped at a large, dark door. The guard on duty
pushed it open and stepped aside for Qui-Gon. He hesitated only
for a second, then took a deep, centering breath and entered.
He stopped dead in his place.
Thick-cushioned, but still empty chairs formed a large
semi-circle. In front of and curving with the semi-circle was a
floor-to-ceiling pane of smoky glass, on the other side of
which was a high, four-post bed, adorned with rich blankets and
a nearly nude Padawan. "Obi-Wan..."
"He can't hear you, Master Jinn," Magister Tev assured.
Startled, Qui-Gon hadn't even known the man was there.
"Pardon me?"
"Padawan Kenobi. He can't hear you. This viewing room is
designed so that those presenting an intimate gift can do so
without distraction. The royal witnesses will watch through the
two-way mirror, and they'll be able to hear you, but you and
your Padawan will not have the distraction of seeing or hearing
your witnesses."
The Magister spoke with an air of gentle reassurance that
frankly confused Qui-Gon. The man chuckled and the Master
realized he most definitely had not achieved his center whilst
meditating.
"Your Padawan told me that you might be a little nervous.
Believe me, Master Jinn, it's perfectly natural. Having an
extraordinary young man such as Padawan Kenobi offer you all of
himself is quite daunting. So many young ones do not realize
that it is a difficult responsibility to take such a gift from
a submissive. It's good that our young wait until they are of
age to choose whether to take up such a position. But you are a
Master Jedi. I'm sure you will show us all how to accept such a
responsibility with grace. As I'm sure your Padawan will show
us all the beauty and strength in submitting. You'll be our
inspiration for continued harmony."
Qui-Gon was not quite sure how to respond to that. How could
he turn what was meant to be an intimate act of love into a
public display demonstrating grace and a trusting union?
Especially when he'd been deceived into the act in the first
place?
All he could do was incline a placating nod and murmur his
thanks for the Magister's confidence. The flushed humanoid
smiled and took his arm, leading him to the mid-point of the
semi-circle, to the panel of the two-way mirror that would open
and take him to the other side of the glass, to Obi-Wan.
"The royals are waiting. They won't come in here until you are
there with your Padawan. On behalf of the new ruling house of
Frellia, thank you, Master Jinn." The panel slid open and
Qui-Gon was gently nudged inside. The panel closed behind him
without a further word.
Qui-Gon turned and met his Apprentice's gaze. Through their
bond he felt waves of reassurance. He wanted to throw the
emotion back at the younger man for having the audacity to
offer it, after having put him in this position...
But he couldn't. The longer he looked, the more he began to
realize that the source of his Padawan's serenity came from the
young man's center. It was pure, powerful and sought out his
Master wholly unconsciously. It was a peace born of the Force,
certain in Obi-Wan's belief that all would be well.
Obi-Wan's duplicity aside, he knew what he doing now, and he
was asking Qui-Gon to trust him. To let him get them through
this. Qui-Gon realized he might not have a choice but to let
Obi-Wan guide them through. This predicament was of Obi-Wan's
making, and his Padawan was obviously ready to take the lead in
seeing it through-- as he was not.
His mind tentatively touched on a dangerously liberating
notion: he had no reason for guilt in the pleasures he was
about to take. Obi-Wan had gotten them there, and Obi-Wan was
ready to take them through it. When choice was taken from him,
so was culpability. Qui-Gon was not simply free to taste the
indulgence he otherwise would still be denied, it was now his
duty.
Qui-Gon's eyes slid from Obi-Wan's down the young man's bared
torso. His toned chest rose and fell gently with his breath.
His hands were clasped behind his back, and he knelt on the
bed, a white cloth wrapped around his groin and clasped at his
slim hips. His legs were slightly parted, muscled thighs
straining. Qui-Gon's gaze took a leisurely journey back upward,
stopping to admire the modest ripples of Obi-Wan's abdomen, and
the light curls of reddish-gold hair sprinkled on his chest.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard as his attraction flared of its own
volition.
When he again reached the self-assured blue eyed gaze, Obi-Wan
spoke, softly, but the words were compelling... "Come to
me."
It was as if an invisible cord was wrapped around his waist
with the other end anchored to Obi-Wan's seductive spirit. The
cord gently but insistently tugged until Qui-Gon began to
move.
Legs shaking, he approached his Padawan.
"For ten standard years, you've been my Master in all things.
I ask of you now, please be the Master of my body as well." The
words were a plea, but the bond between them spoke the
command.
Mutely, Qui-Gon nodded and knelt on the bed in front of
Obi-Wan. For the duration of this time together, Obi-Wan was
his to Master. A weight lifted from his shoulders as he drank
in the sight of his willing Padawan and the Force whispered to
him to take what was offered. At last he yielded to the forces
that had carried him to this moment, and glanced about the bed
to see what the mysterious items at their disposal were. If he
finally felt free to do this, by the Force he'd do it
right.
"Dim the lights and light a stick of that incense, Padawan,"
Qui-Gon said softly.
Obi-Wan's acquiescent nod radiated surety. Qui-Gon's eyes
followed his Padawan's movements, watching sleek muscles move
and bunch under fair, creamy skin. Seconds later, the nearly
bare body was awash in golden light. Then the wafting scent of
the aromatic incense drifted about them and Obi-Wan took on an
otherworldly presence. The younger man fairly prowled back to
the wide, soft bed. The mattress dipped when he crawled upon it
and again knelt before him, his eyes fixed on Qui-Gon's with
hunger, a hunger that demanded to be tamed as much as
satisfied. It was Qui-Gon's duty to see it done.
The Force-- or was it Obi-Wan-- bade him look up to the
ceiling. Affixed to horizontal and vertical sliding tracks were
numerous restraints, all of a soft-looking rope with padded
rings that could be slipped around ankles, wrists, or both. A
flick of the Force brought two of the restraints tumbling down
to hang on either side of Obi-Wan's shoulders.
Obi-Wan obediently slipped his wrists into them and Qui-Gon
tightened them. A light tug on each retracted them until
Obi-Wan's arms were lifted over his head, his elbows slightly
bent. Qui-Gon moved the ropes horizontally to spread Obi-Wan's
arms apart, until they were stretched wide.
There. The younger man's chest was spread before him, a
veritable buffet of delectable treats. Approval and lust sang
to him from their bond. Qui-Gon pulled his eyes away long
enough to examine the silver serving cart next to the
bed.
It held a wide selection of gilded glass carafes and jars;
oils and creams. He cocked his head thoughtfully as he lifted
lids and waved them lightly under his nose to sample their
scents. All pleasing, and all enticing.
He settled on a small, red container and placed his fingertip
over the narrow top; he tilted it gently then set the bottle
aside. Strong spice swirled about, scenting the air with
cinnamon.
A predatory grin tugged at his mouth as he leaned close to
Obi-Wan's lightly heaving chest. His held his wet fingertip
over one rosy, pebbled nipple. The red drop of fluid dangled
for second then dropped onto the hard little nub. Obi-Wan
gasped. Very lightly, Qui-Gon rubbed the moist nipple, feeling
the spiced oil heat up under the touch of his fingertip.
Obi-Wan's breathing quickened.
Pleased with himself, Qui-Gon eased back and selected another
bottle, a green one. He collected another drop of oil, this one
filling their senses with mint. Again he poised a wet fingertip
over the already sensitized morsel of flesh, and waited
patiently... after a long second, the cool fluid dripped over
the hard little nub and Obi-Wan hissed.
Qui-Gon circled it with his finger, teasing the aureole,
gradually getting closer to the center.
"Please." It was so soft, Qui-Gon almost didn't hear it. But
he did. He looked into Obi-Wan's blazing eyes.
"Not yet." His feathery, fingertip caress spiraled outward
again, away from the ache of needy flesh. Qui-Gon finally felt
in control, and he liked it. He would avail himself of the
growing sense of power that fed his desire.
His free hand began to dance over Obi-Wan's ribs, just enough
to feel the smooth skin beneath his palm. His light stroking
left goose-bumps in its wake. Obi-Wan shivered deliciously.
Qui-Gon could feel it; the younger man wanted to cry out,
wanted to beg for a firm touch, to be pressed into the mattress
and *felt*. But Obi-Wan kept his silence.
So Qui-Gon rewarded him at last. He bent his head and flicked
his tongue over the wet nipple he'd been teasing. Obi-Wan's
choked gasp was gratifying. He took the nub between his teeth
and gently tugged. When he let it go, it lightly snapped into
place, harder and peaked higher than before. His lips closed
around it and he began to suck, mint and cinnamon exploding in
his mouth.
Obi-Wan's frantic gasps finally coalesced into a coherent
plea. "T...t... too much..."
With a final, loving nibble, Qui-Gon eased back again to
survey his Padawan's condition.
His bottom lip was puffy and wet from biting it; his torso
covered in a fine sheen of sweat; and a bulge filled the flimsy
white cloth over his groin. A damp stain spotted the cloth
where Obi-Wan's cockhead would be. His eyes were glazed, and
yet still imperious.
Through his labored breathing, a cunning smile crept onto
Obi-Wan's mouth. The challenge was made. When Qui-Gon felt his
cock leap, he knew the challenge was accepted. Take me, take
control if you dare... Qui-Gon dared.
The stare-down continued as Qui-Gon reached for the clasps
holding Obi-Wan's meager groin covering. A flick of his thumbs
and the cloth was removed. Qui-Gon tossed it aside and finally
broke eye contact. He tilted his head and looked down, giving
Obi-Wan's hard shaft a frank visual inspection. It pointed
straight ahead, thick and bobbing slightly, it's crown moist
and shiny.
"I'm appreciative of the view, Padawan, but we have quite
sometime before we address this particular need of yours."
Qui-Gon couldn't keep the promise of torment from his
voice.
His Padawan responded with an artful quirk of one eyebrow
first, and then a self assured, "I can wait as long it takes,
Master."
"I believe you can. But in the meantime, I'd like to keep you
busy."
Qui-Gon edged off of the bed and toed off his boots. He
shrugged out of his robe and draped it over the footboard, then
made short work of dropping his leggings. Obi-Wan's eyes
feasted on the sight of him as each new patch of skin was
bared. The Padawan's approving gaze made Qui-Gon's erection
tremble with his own need.
A wave of his hand, and Qui-Gon loosened the restraints
holding Obi-Wan's arms stretched wide. The younger man swayed,
but managed to keep himself upright on his knees. "Lie back,
Padawan." Obi-Wan obeyed, his arms relaxing above his head, and
his legs stretched out full length and slightly apart.
Oh, what a vision... an assortment of delights, any of which
would gift his tongue with luscious flavor and sensation.
Qui-Gon knelt between Obi-Wan's calves and grazed his hands
upward to caress milky inner thighs, stopping just short of the
golden-curled groin. He gave a pointed squeeze.
Obi-Wan gasped with anticipation, but Qui-Gon tsked him
softly. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. But I did warn you that you would
have to wait, love."
Qui-Gon then let go of Obi-Wan's trembling legs and straddled
his chest. "I have something else in mind for the moment," he
whispered as he eased his erection closer to the younger man's
mouth.
Obi-Wan licked his lips, parted them, and held his Master's
gaze. Do it, Obi-Wan's eyes commanded. Qui-Gon obeyed.
His thick cock eased past the silky pink ribbons of flesh and
into heavenly moisture. The soft rasp of Obi-Wan's tongue
caressed the sensitive underside of his shaft as he slid
inside, and then Obi-Wan's mouth closed, trapping him in
wondrous heat, and he began to suck. Glory be, the sensation
was dizzying in its intensity; each twinge of pleasure made his
heart pound louder and constricted his throat tighter, until
his fight for breath left him on a plane where not even air
mattered, just the soft slurp of Obi-Wan's mouth over his
throbbing cockhead, and the inquisitive tongue that teased his
leaking slit with wicked flicks.
His balls drawing up tightly to his body brought him back to
himself, just in time to pull back from Obi-Wan's swollen mouth
before he could come. His pulse gradually slowed as he watched
Obi-Wan's eyes glitter with self-satisfaction. Impudent
Padawan, he thought with utter fondness. Time to daze Obi-Wan
as much as he had been dazed.
Qui-Gon turned back to the serving tray of luxurious aids. A
lazy smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. He reached for
his selection. Perfect.
Qui-Gon leaned back against the headboard to turn Obi-Wan over
his lap, face down. His Padawan's expression was confused at
first as Qui-Gon arranged him so that Obi-Wan's groin pressed
into his Master's thighs, the younger man's curvaceous backside
presented nicely for easy access. Qui-Gon could play with it at
will. Obi-Wan's cheek lay against the soft bedspread, and when
he spotted Qui-Gon's jar of lubricating gel, those cheeks
flushed with full understanding.
Qui-Gon felt a pang of sympathy for the sudden vulnerability
Obi-Wan must have felt. With the backs of his fingers, he
fluttered a gentle caress over Obi-Wan's upturned
cheekbone.
"It'll be alright." And he meant it. Obi-Wan's grin, though
small, returned and he nodded minutely.
Qui-Gon turned his gaze to the prize in his lap. Oh, it was
lovely. Creamy skin, lusciously firm, and oh-so pert. He
trailed his index finger along the warm crease, and Obi-Wan
shivered, then bent his knee to part the ample cheeks, an
offering.
The pad of Qui-Gon's fingertip dipped into the crease and
brushed over the tightly pursed opening. It twitched as Obi-Wan
gasped softly. Qui-Gon chuckled quietly, then bent and placed a
tender kiss on one of the warm, pliant cheeks. "Oh, but you are
exquisite, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's reply was a warm smile and a subtle undulation of
his hips. Arousal and soul-deep affection rushed over Qui-Gon.
Exquisite couldn't begin to cover it, he realized, and began to
caress and fondle with tender deference.
He separated the firm mounds with one hand, and scooped some
gel onto the forefinger of his other. He teased and swirled
around the tightly pinched opening, enjoying the little spasms
that wracked it. "Relax, Obi-Wan... Let me in,
Padawan..."
Obi-Wan took a deep, calming breath and as he released it,
Qui-Gon's fingertip slipped inside.
Heavens, Obi-Wan was so tight! The little ring clamped down on
him, but Qui-Gon kept still. After a second, Obi-Wan relaxed
and Qui-Gon very slowly wiggled. Obi-Wan moaned quietly.
Apparently, this was an act that Obi-Wan hadn't yet added to
his sexual repertoire. Gently, Qui-Gon pulled his fingertip out
and returned it with another dab of gel. It went in with less
cajoling this time, the intimate acceptance warming Qui-Gon's
belly with glowing embers of longing.
Qui-Gon slid further inside, slowly, not stopping until he was
in to his third knuckle. Obi-Wan's moan was lower and louder
than the last. "Do you feel okay?"
"Ohhhh, yes."
Qui-Gon smiled. He left his finger buried, but removed the
hand that was keeping Obi-Wan spread apart so he could stroke
the younger man's lower back. "I believe I can make it better
than okay, though," Qui-Gon whispered.
"Ohh, I believe you can..."
"Just stay relaxed, Padawan, you're doing very well." He began
working his finger in and out, the gentle pace lulling them
both into a mutual rhythm; Obi-Wan made muted sounds of
pleasure to Qui-Gon's steady finger fucking. Soon, Obi-Wan's
bottom was subtly wriggling as the little muscle began to
loosen. The younger man's erection began to rub against
Qui-Gon's thigh, smearing fluid on him with his faint
thrusting. Qui-Gon grew hot with want.
Every time Qui-Gon pulled out for more gel, Obi-Wan restively
ground his cock into Qui-Gon's leg. But the slow preparation
had Obi-Wan deliciously slippery even if still tight. Oh, how
amazing it was going to feel when he was sheathed inside
him!
Qui-Gon finally had two fingers inside the wet channel, and he
tenderly twisted them until he found the sensitive little
nugget of nerves... Obi-Wan's hips arched sharply and he gasped
harshly, losing his breath for a moment before groaning deeply
at last, his lips parted and his eyes clenched shut.
Qui-Gon brushed an errant strand of passion-damp hair from
Obi-Wan's temple. The younger man's eyes flashed open. The
meekness he expected was nowhere to be found. Instead he was
pierced with a silent demand to fulfill the promise of magic
his fingers had made.
"You're ready." It was acknowledgement more that statement.
Qui-Gon, too, was ready, as his raging erection shouted.
Consciously fighting to keep his heartbeat steady, he rolled
Obi-Wan to his back. After a second's thought, he pulled the
loose restraints from and then softly kissed Obi-Wan's wrists.
Obi-Wan smiled up at him in approval and then stretched his
arms behind his head and spread his legs wide, inclining his
head in invitation for Qui-Gon to climb between them. He
accepted, stroking the strong limbs lovingly as he did.
This time when he reached the juncture of legs and torso, he
didn't stop. He gently cupped the velvety pouch of Obi-Wan's
warm balls, caressing the soft skin with his thumb. His Padawan
sighed blissfully, lifting his hips slightly to greet the soft
touch.
With his other hand, Qui-Gon gripped Obi-Wan's hard, straining
shaft and began to stroke, firm and slow. Obi-Wan groaned and
chewed on his lower lip, his struggle for control eloquent.
After a moment of deliberate fondling, Obi-Wan's eyes flashed
at him in warning. Qui-Gon could feel the part plea part
command tumbling off of the younger man in a desperate mental
mantra... _Do it, do it, do it..._
Oh, but Obi-Wan's need was so beguiling, such a gift to him...
And his generosity should be rewarded, Qui-Gon decided. He
released the leaking erection and soft sac, reaching instead
for Obi-Wan's thighs. "Lift them," he ordered, his voice
tight.
Obi-Wan bent his legs and pulled them to his chest, his knees
practically reaching his arm pits. He held himself open wide,
ready to share the most intimate part of himself. Qui-Gon
stared, swallowing the lump in his throat as he slicked his hot
shaft with more of the slick gel.
He glanced at his Padawan's flushed face and fell into his
soulful gaze. Time slowed as he was drawn to Obi-Wan's pliant
body and warm spirit. Come to me, fill me, Obi-Wan coaxed with
his eyes. Yes, Qui-Gon answered with a moist kiss to Obi-Wan's
parted lips.
Oh, it was unbelievable... a slippery glove that molded to his
hard flesh, as if made for his body alone. Obi-Wan was all he
could have wanted, all he could have dreamed. Devastatingly
intense sensation, for him alone, the chance to love him so
fiercely that his heart could burst; all with no
accountability. It was an act of love so blameless that all
need do is cry to the heavens and let the power of it carry him
away.
"Yes, Master... love me the way you need to..." rough whispers
tickled his ear in a hot, breathy litany. "Oh yes, let yourself
feel it... feel me the way you've always desired..." The moist
tip of Obi-Wan's tongue danced with his words, completing the
irresistible spell.
Heavy thrusts sent Qui-Gon impossibly deep, into the supple
body and into the faithful soul. He was welcomed to both with
strong, encircling arms and throaty cries of, "Oh please,
Master, more."
Qui-Gon buried his nose into Obi-Wan's flushed, sweaty neck.
As he panted, he tasted all that his tongue and lips could
reach, savoring the salt and tang of aroused Padawan flesh. All
the while he rocked and swayed, sheathed far inside his
Obi-Wan.
Suddenly, his Padawan stilled. Qui-Gon dragged his lips from
Obi-Wan's collarbone to his impertinent chin, needing to see
his eyes... Obi-Wan was on a precipice, waiting to fly over,
needing to, but waiting.
Qui-Gon skimmed his lips to Obi-Wan's, both of them gasping
softly. He pressed in just once more, deeply, powerfully, and
gave him the command he'd been waiting for... "Come for me,
Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan cried out then, his breath warm and sweet on Qui-Gon's
lips and his internal muscles contracted wildly around his own
pulsing shaft. Obi-Wan had leaped over the edge, grasping
Qui-Gon so soundly that he had no choice but follow.
As Qui-Gon sobbed in all-consuming release, he clutched his
Padawan desperately, cherishing the selfless gift he'd only
just come to understand. He kissed Obi-Wan's parted lips with
all the breath he could gather, panting out soft I love you's
in between flavorful tastes of his Padawan's succulent
mouth.
At last his frenzy began to settle, and his eyes flickered to
the smoked glass beyond the bed, but Obi-Wan turned his cheek
with a gentle palm. "Shsh. Don't look at them, look at me.
They'll leave us peace. We'll be fine."
Another request for trust. Qui-Gon nodded and collapsed into
the protective embrace his Padawan offered. Request
granted.
Epilogue
Obi-Wan worked the controls of the transport with serenity and
surety; both radiated from the younger man in almost palpable
waves. Qui-Gon forcibly repressed his obstinate grin.
Obi-Wan had taken the news of his discipline with the
acceptance that Qui-Gon had come to accept from the young
Padawan. For one standard year, he was denied the freedom to
speak to the Council on both their behalf. He would be
permitted to make no choices for any incidental perks they
might be granted in the course of their assignments.
Practically speaking, it meant that Obi-Wan could not choose
the flavor of field rations they took with them. And for that
duration he'd also be cleaning the dishes from their meals
while on Coruscant.
It was left unsaid that Obi-Wan volunteered for that duty on a
regular basis anyway. The important thing was that the
discipline was official between them.
And official it had to be, or Obi-Wan's gift to him would be
incomplete. The point was for the Padawan to take all
culpability of Qui-Gon's pleasure from him, freeing him of the
responsibility. If Obi-Wan's actions went unpunished, then
accountability would be have to be shared, destroying the
purity of the Padawan's offering. Obi-Wan had apparently begun
this undertaking with just that fact in mind.
Qui-Gon still had nagging doubts about beginning a real,
romantic relationship with Obi-Wan, and his Padawan was aware
of that. But Qui-Gon was also now acutely aware that he would
have to examine those doubts very deeply.
He hadn't realized until the moment he saw Obi-Wan waiting for
him on that bed, just how much work it had been of late to
sublimate his desire for him.
Obi-Wan had spoken of truths and untruths, and in part the
younger man had been right. Qui-Gon had been denying for some
time the truth of how deeply he loved and wanted Obi-Wan. And
that denial itself had affected their relationship.
Technically, though, the Padawan should have respected his
Master's choice not to pursue that path... But since when had
he himself been practical? He could hardly blame Obi-Wan for
taking action on something that was getting out of hand for
both of them, though they would talk much more about Obi-Wan's
methods of taking action. Involving an entire world's future
was very much an error in judgement. Though Obi-Wan's intent
had only been to force Qui-Gon to face their feelings and the
true nature of their relationship, his choosing to do so while
on a mission could have had a hefty price for a world of
innocents.
But they would also talk more about Qui-Gon's habit of finding
excuses to detach himself from Obi-Wan's presence whenever they
returned from missions, given the fact of the last incident
having led to Obi-Wan's brazen deception. Qui-Gon, of course,
hadn't consciously realized that he had been distancing himself
from his Apprentice at many an opportunity so that he could
remove himself from temptation. He'd walked a fine line between
consciously choosing not to pursue intimacy with Obi-Wan and
subconsciously using that choice to deny the increasing
seduction of that intimacy.
For his own lapses in judgement of late, Qui-Gon tasked
himself with getting to the root of his reticence for that
relationship with Obi-Wan. There was a fear there, a fear that
a relationship or Qui-Gon himself, would somehow harm
Obi-Wan.
He'd told himself that it was because it would endanger their
Master/Padawan power structure. That excuse went out the
airlock the second Obi-Wan's eyes trained on him in the
ceremonial gifting room-- he'd realized at that moment that
Obi-Wan held the ultimate power to either crush or reclaim his
very soul, whichever Obi-Wan wished. And being perfectly honest
with himself, Qui-Gon admitted that his Padawan had held a
tendril of that power for quite some time. It was not, however,
a realization that frightened Qui-Gon. It wasn't the
trepidation that was holding him back.
Well, whatever that fear was, he wanted it found and
destroyed. Nothing could compare to the feeling of utter
freedom that crested over him when he made love with Obi-Wan.
He wanted that feeling back again.
Qui-Gon snapped out of his reverie to see Obi-Wan carefully
arching an eyebrow at him, that slightly brash expression
lighting his face. Qui-Gon's groin tightened.
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