Summary: Inspired by FireCracker´s story "Hammered," in
which Qui-Gon says to Obi-Wan, "If I were concerned about
appearances I never would have come to you six months ago on
Korbett." Food for thought, that!
Category: AU, Angst, First-Time, PWP
Notes: Thanks to FireCracker for letting me play. Hurry up with
"Temptations," woman. Also, I´m trying to atone for the
fact that I included no smut in "Fortune Presents Gifts..:" I
mean, what the hell was up with that?!
Disclaimer: George Lucas, etc.
Feedback: Is greatly desired, but only if you don´t
needle me about finishing certain other projects about which I
am most regrettably lax. I´ll get to it. Just gotta take
the plot bunnies when they come, don´t you know...
Archive: Yes, please.
Get your hands off him.
Jedi Masters weren´t supposed to have thoughts like that.
But Qui-Gon did, and was. He was supposed to be enjoying the
party, a tasteful, well-done affair the Korbetti had thrown to
celebrate a particularly advantageous treaty signing with the
neighboring world of Gascoh. For once at a diplomatic reception
the food was excellent and to his taste, and even the music was
pleasant. And quite danceable, with a slow, almost sensual
beat. A fact that Obi-Wan was certainly making evident out on
the floor.
With someone else.
Oh, Qui-Gon couldn´t fault his Padawan´s taste;
Obi-Wan´s dance partner was the most attractive young man
in the entire hall, next to Obi-Wan, of course. The two made a
stunning picture together, raw grace and beauty sliding
together in a sinuous dance. Qui-Gon attempted once again to
remove his emotions from the picture, to try and enjoy the
sight of his Padawan dancing as a purely aesthetic thing, and
once again failed miserably, succeeding only in raising his
indignation and deeply-felt resentment of the other boy.
A boy indeed, he thought darkly. Has he ever had to
shave? And you--is that what you want, Padawan? Just
another...boy?
Obi-Wan, nearly twenty-three now, had come into his maturity
with a sudden and shocking awareness. At seventeen, when the
young man´s beauty had only just begun to torment his
Master´s dreams, he´d begun making the Temple
rounds, discreetly but without shame - soon earning himself a
reputation as a skilled and tender lover. It hurt Qui-Gon more
than he cared to admit, especially as the years went on and
Obi- Wan seemed to show no inclination to stop bed-hopping.
Which was foolisness itself, of course. Love between Master and
Padawan was strictly forbidden by the Code; why shouldn´t
young Obi- Wan enjoy himself? He couldn´t ease himself
with his Master, no matter how much they both might wish it.
And they both did. Whatever jealousy might haunt him, at least
Qui- Gon knew that. He wasn´t a Jedi Master for nothing;
Obi-Wan had been looking at him hotly since he´d been
about sixteen. A heat that, surprisingly, had never faded,
despite the years since then. And what of it? he chided
himself. Do you expect him, healthy young man that he is, to
remain celibate for you until he´s knighted? Foolish,
stupid man!
It was a litany he´d repeated to himself countless times
over the last six years or so, but tonight it had lost its
strength, watching Obi-Wan dance with this handsome stranger.
Qui-Gon wondered, miserably, why. They were leaving Korbett
tomorrow; he´d never have to see Obi-Wan with the other
youth again. Why did this hurt him so?
Perhaps because it was not a bed Obi-Wan was sharing with the
man - at least, not yet - it was a simple social courtesy that
Qui-Gon was himself denied. For a Master to even dance with his
Padawan in public would be viewed with suspicion by the
Council; especially this Master and this Padawan, already so
well known for defying convention. Sleeping around he could
tolerate to a degree, but how could Obi-Wan flaunt this in his
face?
"Look, Master. See what I´m doing with someone I
don´t love? See what I can´t give to you? I bet it
hurts."
Oh, it did. And it was beyond Qui-Gon how his Padawan could
miss it. Obi-Wan, while he´d certainly taken his share of
people to bed, had been remarkably reserved about other, more
casual intimacies. Like dancing. Until tonight.
The dim lights of the room played off Obi-Wan´s face,
highlighting the cheekbones, the cleft in the chin that made
Qui-Gon´s mouth water. His eyes slid lower to the slim,
linen-clad hips that shifted in the cadence of the dance and
his own hips almost jerked in response to a sudden surge of
desire; he bit back a moan. This man, this man, his
Padawan...gods, there had never been anyone so beautiful....
Obi-Wan´s eyes slid over to lock with his own.
Qui-Gon felt his mouth go a bit slack with shock as Obi-Wan
winked wickedly at him then, never breaking the eye contact,
gripped his dance partner´s hips firmly and ground them
into his own. The suggestive motion naturally brought attention
and, with that, a few quiet murmurs of disapproval.
The Jedi Master barely noticed. Obi-Wan´s nameless
partner´s head had fallen back on a soft gasp, his eyes
closed, and Obi-Wan was still looking at Qui-Gon, his eyes hot.
Force.
His Padawan was taunting him.
Qui-Gon´s quiet anguish disappeared in a flash, to be
replaced by rage. Obi-Wan was doing this on purpose! Trying to
provoke his Master, trying to goad him into...what? What
reaction could he possibly be hoping for, other than upsetting
a diplomatic gathering? That little brat...I should...
I should march over there and...
No. By the Force and the Council, what was he thinking? (Stupid
question. He was thinking of pulling Obi-Wan away from that
whelp, of wheeling him into a corner, of...) Again, no.
He couldn´t possibly. He couldn´t...
Obi-Wan´s partner, becoming just as heedless of decorum,
grabbed the young Padawan´s ass.
The disapproving murmurs grew and several angry glances were
shot Qui- Gon´s way, as if urging him to control his
apprentice. It ran off him like water over a stone; nothing
could touch him now except this insane rage that had him in its
grip, rage coupled with the most excruciating arousal he could
remember suffering in years. As if in a dream, and vaguely
grateful for his enveloping Jedi robes, Qui-Gon felt his feet
take him forward onto the dance floor towards the randy young
couple.
Obi-Wan never stopped looking at him, though his cheeks grew
redder as his Master approached, his eyes more fevered. Qui-Gon
reached out one huge hand and laid it firmly on the other young
man´s shoulder, pulling him almost roughly away from his
Padawan, ignoring the smattering of applause that broke out
from the ever-growing audience.
The young man protested, spluttering, "Excuse me, but-- "
"You have behaved badly, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, his voice soft
and dangerous, still gazing deeply into Obi-wan´s eyes.
"I have done as I saw fit, Master," Obi-Wan replied breathily,
and to his astonishment, Qui-Gon felt his insolent apprentice
touch his mind.
/Didn´t like it? Wish it was you?/
//Don´t play games with me, Obi-Wan.// "You are
disgracing the Jedi in front of this assembly with your
display."
"Look," the other young man protested, trying to get into the
conversation again, but Qui-Gon silenced him with a glare that
could have melted lead.
"Go. Away," he snarled, and the boy did just that, could really
not be blamed for it.
"That was excessive," Obi-Wan commented mildly. /And a bit
possessive. I liked it./
//Stop it. Stop it!// Force save him, was that the most
coherent thought he could muster?
/All right. I will. If you´ll fuck me./
All the breath suddenly left his lungs. Good thing they
weren´t speaking aloud. //If...what...?//
Green eyes bored into his. /You heard me. I´m sick of
this. For years we´ve been doing this. I love you. You
know that./
//I...//
/Love me too. Yes. I know./ Obi-Wan took his Master´s
hand, keeping the motion hidden within the sweep of their long
robes and sleeves. All rage had fled, leaving Qui-Gon shaking
with hunger at the touch of that hand.
"Meant to be," Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes still glittering
feverishly, and this close Qui-Gon could feel the heat coming
from the young body he craved so badly, could almost feel the
other man´s erection... "We were meant to be together,
like this, bodies, souls, hearts, Master. You know it,
don´t you?"
Qui-Gon licked his dry lips, almost moaned when he saw
Obi-Wan´s pupils dilate at the gesture. "I..." his voice
was a hoarse rasp. And the people around were beginning to
stare, to wonder why Master Jinn and his Padawan were still
standing on the dance floor. Surely a few castigating words
didn´t take this long? They should go somewhere more
private, but that would be his doom, that would be -
Sensing his Master wavering, Obi-Wan pounced. "Oh, gods,
please," he whispered, not bothering to keep the needy whimper
out of his voice. "Please, Master. I want it...I want you so
badly! Please. Give me anything. Just a little." Impossible
though it seemed, those eyes got hotter. "Just let me suck you.
Please. I´ve dreamed of it for so long..."
Oh gods!
Through the training bond, Qui-Gon could feel how sincere
Obi-Wan was, how much he wanted -- anything, and everything,
Qui-Gon would give him. And that image, that image of those
soft, pink lips suckling at his cock--
Not surprisingly, Qui-Gon snapped.
Faster than thought, his hand closed on his apprentice´s
elbow, hard enough to bruise, and he dragged him out of the
ballroom, retaining enough of his wits to make an apologetic
bow at the Prelate, who winced sympathetically. As they fled
the room Qui-Gon thought he heard someone say "Young people can
be so difficult," but he was beyond caring.
They fairly raced out of the ballroom and the crowded corridors
surrounding it, down further into the bowels of the palace
toward their own rooms, which seemed miles away. Qui-Gon
glanced down at Obi-Wan´s face for a brief instant, and
that was his undoing. The green eyes were almost glowing with
heat, and the lips were parted, panting softly, a pink tongue
running over them. He couldn´t wait another second to
taste them. Glancing around wildly he saw, down the corridor
and in a nice shadowy corner, a large potted plant.
"Yes," Obi-Wan moaned, as he caught the tenor of his
Master´s thoughts. "Anywhere. Anywhere, please!"
A few more tortured steps saw the young apprentice slammed back
into the corner, and then, mind blank to anything but the
insatiable need, Qui-Gon kissed him.
It was...he couldn´t manage to describe it, even in the
turbulent confines of his own head. Obi-Wan´s mouth was
impossibly soft and hot, and at the thought of burying his cock
inside it Qui-Gon nearly came in his pants. Not here,
his mind spoke up insistently, and then stopped speaking as he
felt two slim, strong hands grip his ass and squeeze. Under his
kisses Obi-Wan was moaning like a wild thing, wriggling in his
arms, trying to grind their hips together...
Qui-Gon had had fine, lofty thoughts about their first time,
about soft beds and candles and music and wine, but most
important of all, of having Obi-Wan Knighted. Of it being
permitted, sanctified by their Order. They´d gone too far
for that now--if he stopped making love to Obi-Wan Qui-Gon was
fairly certain he would die--but damned if he wouldn´t
get the bed part right. Using the most willpower he´d
ever called on in his life, he wrenched his lips from
Obi-Wan´s, cock throbbing at his Padawan´s
anguished groan.
"Master, don´t stop! I can´t--I need-- "
"Not here," Qui-Gon rasped, burying his face in the curve of
his Padawan´s neck and snuffling hungrily, pausing to
bite and suck, wanting to leave a mark. "Come...to our rooms."
Force, his Padawan smelled so good. Clean and Obi-Wan and the
faintest hint of musk drifting up from their groins. If they
didn´t leave now, they´d never make it.
The sound of voices down the hall decided things, and fast.
Seizing his dazed apprentice by the hand, they fairly sprinted
down the hall, an action made decidedly uncomfortable by their
aching erections. Qui- Gon thought they managed to turn the
corner before whoever was coming saw them, but he wasn´t
sure, and he couldn´t really care. Finally they reached
the door, a quick fumbling with the key, falling inside
and...last shred of rational thought!...locked the door back
behind them.
Qui-Gon then turned and looked at his apprentice, who was
slowly backing away from him towards one of the twin beds,
shrugging his robe off his slim shoulders, unbuckling his belt.
"Qui-Gon," he said softly, throatily.
"Obi-Wan," he moaned, covering the distance between them in two
large strides, reaching trembling hands out to touch his
Padawan - only to be denied. "...Obi-Wan...?"
"Watch me, Master," his apprentice whispered, now shucking off
his upper tunics, bending to remove his boots with the ease of
long practice.
Qui-Gon felt he either had to defuse the moment somehow or
explode on the spot. "Mind if I join you?" he rasped, deciding
humor was as good an approach as any, though he rather spoiled
the effect by tearing off his own clothing in an obscene hurry.
But it was worth it, because Obi-Wan shot him a beautiful grin.
The grin disappeared when they were both, finally, naked. "So
beautiful, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan choked. "I need..."
"I know what you need." Huge hands covered the smaller
shoulders and pushed Obi-Wan back down on the bed. "You need
me." The truth struck him suddenly. "You need Us."
"Gods, yes!" Obi-Wan groaned, wrapping his legs around his
lover and Master, grinding his burning erection against a flat
stomach.
"Wait," Qui-Gon gasped, and without further preamble, swooped
down that beautiful body to take the stiff erection into his
mouth.
Obi-Wan´s howl made him hope faintly that the rooms were
soundproofed. But that was a secondary concern; right now all
he could care about was that, finally, he had Obi-Wan´s
cock in his mouth, Obi-Wan´s precum on his tongue.
Obi-Wan´s perfect hips jerking in his hands--
Obi-Wan´s wails echoing in his ears-- and, yes! at last!
--Obi-Wan´s penis twitching in his mouth, ejaculate
coursing down his throat so thickly it nearly choked him. Those
slim hips continued to pump weakly until the orgasm had run its
course, and Qui-Gon continued to lave softly at the limp organ,
achingly hard himself but loath to let go of his treasure.
"Master," Obi-Wan moaned at last, apparently capable again of
speech. "Oh...Master...I love you..."
"Qui-Gon," he murmured, placing a final tender kiss on the head
of Obi-Wan´s penis. "Here I am Qui-Gon, love. No more,
but certainly no less --oh!" For that boy, that wicked, wicked
boy, had bent his leg and was now teasing Qui-Gon´s
rock-hard cock with the tip of his big toe. Qui-Gon buried his
face in the soft creamy thigh and moaned as the caress was
repeated. And again, and again...
"So hard, my Qui-Gon," he heard Obi-Wan murmur in a dreamy
voice.
"Yes," he choked, and it was the truth. He´d never been
this hard in his life. "Obi-- Obi-Wan--please, Padawan, I-- "
"Shush." Qui-Gon felt strong, gentle hands lifting and turning
him until he lay on his back, and he was looking up into his
apprentice´s flushed, sated face, green eyes langorous
with pleasure. Slender fingers took over the toe´s work,
stroking along his heated length ever so lightly, then dipping
down to caress his balls. It was torture, oh gods, the orgasm
was right there and he couldn´t...he needed...
A puff of breath on his cock. Qui-Gon had to close his eyes
then, as colors began to dance before them. He could already
tell that when he finally climaxed it was going to be
impossibly intense. Obi-Wan was going to take him in that
beautiful mouth, he was sure of it, wasn´t he...? He
opened his eyes again, to see that Obi-Wan was gazing
admiringly at his engorged member, and was indeed licking his
lips, but wasn´t doing anything else about it. "Damn it,"
Qui-Gon choked, "I´m dying, Padawan-- "
"Shush," Obi-Wan said again, took Qui-Gon´s erection in a
firm grip and, before his Master´s disbelieving eyes,
began to rub it against himself. Slid the silky tip along the
firm length of a bicep, leaving a milk-white trail of precum
behind. Qui-Gon moaned half- wildly, hips twitching, as Obi-Wan
bent his torso lower and rubbed the tip of his Master´s
penis over the tender hollow of his own throat. Qui-Gon could
hear himself making soft, thready whimpering noises. And then
Obi-Wan licked his own index finger and rubbed it over his left
nipple, delicately bringing it to hardness-- and he took
Qui-Gon´s cock and rubbed the plush head over that hard,
nubbled tip--
Distantly, Qui-Gon heard himself scream as his hips jerked up
and then back down, bucking helplessly, white cream spurting
out of his erection all the way up to Obi-Wan´s chin in
an impossible spasm of pleasure. It seemed to go on and on, but
he couldn´t really tell, because by the end of it he was
half-conscious at best.
"Obi-Wan," he moaned, the most important name in the universe,
his whole body still trembling, before he passed out
completely.
They talked a little when he woke, as they lay cuddled together
in the ruin of the bedsheets.
Obi-Wan´s lips, still dotted a bit with his
Master´s come, were pinched in a frown. "I don´t
like the idea of keeping secrets, Master. And I don´t see
how we can, not from the Council."
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before, hmm?" Qui-Gon
asked, lazily tracing circles on his Padawan´s belly.
"Just what were you thinking of, when you set out to
seduce me?"
Obi-Wan blushed. "Only that I love you," he murmured. "Nothing
else matters next to that. Not even my Knighthood," he added
fiercely. "I say we tell them. If they make me choose between
you and being a Jedi, then I´ll just tell them they
can--"
Qui-Gon quelled that line of thought with a glare. "I
don´t think so, my dear Padawan. Not when I´ve
spent the last ten years of my life whipping you into shape to
be exactly that. You shall be a Knight; I will accept
nothing else."
"And your lover?" Obi-Wan asked challengingly. "Do I have to
give that up? I won´t!"
"Gods no," Qui-Gon replied, making his caresses more active,
sweeping up and down the muscled thigh. "Just as I said,
Obi-Wan; discretion will see us through. We are neither of us
accustomed to deception, but from now on, it´s our only
recourse. If you wish to continue this, of course," with a
sweeping gesture at the bed and their two entwined bodies.
Obi-Wan sighed and rested his head on his Master´s broad
chest. "Of course I do. And I´ll do as you say," the
for now going unspoken, "but I don´t have to like
it."
Qui-Gon nuzzled his beloved´s hair. "Neither do I, love.
But it´ll be another two years at most. We can do it. And
on your Knighting day..."
Obi-Wan turned up to look at him, his luminous smile stealing
Qui- Gon´s breath away. "On that day, Qui-Gon, I plan on
a public display of affection that will make Jedi history."
Qui-Gon had to laugh at that. "You do that! It will be most
welcome, I assure you! But until then..." he flipped them both
over, until that luscious young body was underneath him again,
"I plan to use my time wisely."
"Use me, Master," Obi-Wan invited wickedly.
And Qui-Gon did.
Mace Windu frowned thunderously. He´d had a lot of
practice and by now was rather good at it.
"I have here," he said icily, waving a letter in front of
Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and the rest of the assembled Council in the
chamber, "a letter from the Prelate of Korbett who wishes to
express his appreciation to us for sending the team of
Jinn/Kenobi."
"He´s quite welcome," Qui-Gon replied calmly. "Do convey
that for me, Master Windu."
Mace´s dark eyes narrowed and Yoda harrumphed. "The
letter goes on to say," Mace continued, "that the Prelate was
most impressed with the way Master Jinn handled his
charge´s ´little breach of behavior´ - I hope
you´re prepared to explain that one, Padawan Kenobi-- and
was, even more so, most touched by ´the tender care
displayed between Master and Padawan at all times during what
must have been a difficult mission for the both of
them.´"
Obi-Wan tried not to wince, and Mace pretended not to notice.
Instead, he raised his voice and added, "One does wonder
about such tender displays in the midst of difficulty,
doesn´t one, my fellow Council members?" He´d also
gotten halfway decent at sarcasm.
"I object," Qui-Gon interrupted, "to your tone of voice. Kindly
explain what you are insinuating about my care for my Padawan,
would you, Mace?"
"Perhaps this is all a bit much," cut in the gentle voice of
Depa Billaba. Mace turned to glare at his former Padawan, but
she continued serenely, "Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi
completed the mission successfully, and on top of that, we have
the personal gratitude of the Prelate of Korbett, not to
mention that of his people. I am sure the Council does not need
reminding that the Korbetti have been oppressed by the
Gascohians for hundreds of years." She paused delicately.
"Perhaps all that need be said is that Master Qui-Gon from now
on could be more...discreet...in such displays for his
Padawan?"
This time Obi-Wan nearly choked.
"Master Billaba," Mace began warningly, but to everyone´s
surprise, Yoda cut in.
"Correct, she is," the old gnome said with a sigh. "Our thanks,
Qui- Gon. Has no more to say, does the Council. Go in peace."
"May the Force be with you," Qui-Gon said, relieved, and bowed.
But before he left with Obi-Wan, he heard Mace´s voice--
in his head.
//Don´t think you´ve fooled me, old love.
I´ll be watching you.//
Qui-Gon did not deign to answer as he swept out of the Council
chamber, Padawan in tow.
In the hallway outside, Obi-Wan stumbled a bit. "Two more years
of this? Master, I´ll never make it!"
Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulder reasuringly. "You will, beloved,"
he whispered. "We´ll make it. I promise you."
//I promise.//
/Yes, Master. Yes, my love./
Fin.
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