Lessons Learned

by Keelywolfe (keelywolfe@aol.com)

Rating: NC-17

Archive: M&A, anyone else, ask.

Category: Angst, Drama, First-Time

Feedback: Oh, yeah.

Summary: Third in the series that began with "An Invasion of Privacy," and continued in 'A Wicked Intention'.

Disclaimer:I don't own them, they belong to the Mighty Lucas. I'll put 'em back, promise.

Notes: It had been unanimously decided by my lovely helpers, Holly and Lilith, that I had best put some warnings on this sucker. So....

WARNINGS: This story is waaaaaay darker and about 100x more angsty than the other two as well as having a few darker elements in it. I mean it. I refuse to summarize, but if you decide you aren't sure if you want to chance it, I will post a better warning lower so scroll down if you want see it. You have been warned.

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This story has definite nonconsensual overtones. I wouldn't go so far as to call it rape, but it is non-con in its own right.

Someone was watching him. He could feel it, prickling the back of his neck. Using supreme effort, Qui-Gon managed to pry open one eye. Two Padawans, both wearing nothing but their skins were sitting side by side on the bed staring at him.

He stared back, still trying to blink away the last vestiges of sleep. Tension was almost crackling in the air as no one spoke, the Padawans obviously waiting for him to speak first.

"Good morning," he yawned, stretching and both young men visibly relaxed. "I'm very angry with both of you," he added mildly and the just easing anxiety snapped back into place. "What to do with you," he mused, "Manipulating me, and I know that you did, was not only extremely disrespectful, it was also a severe infraction of the code." The tension on their faces was being replaced with a touch of fear. Obi-Wan looked especially uneasy and with good reason, Qui-Gon knew.

"Thian," he addressed the other boy while still looking at Obi-Wan. "You are not my Padawan and therefore I do not have responsibility for you." Meaning that he did have responsibility for Obi-Wan and the boy winced. "Therefore," Qui-Gon continued, ignoring the increasing apprehension from both young men, "I will allow you to choose. I can either report this to your Master or you can accept your punishment from me."

Thian swallowed audibly but never hesitated. "With all due respect, Master Qui-Gon, I will accept whatever punishment you see fit to give. On the condition that you don't speak of this to my master," he added and Qui-Gon nodded in agreement.

"Good. Both of you wait here as you are. I'm going to shower before I decide what punishment is appropriate." Not bothering to ask for Obi- Wan's acquiescence, he hardly needed it, he stood and walked over to the small shower facilities that the room had, shutting the door behind him.

He turned the water on as hot as he could bear it and then stepped under the spray, allowing it to massage away his soreness from the night before. Gods, what a night. He didn't know whether to strangle the two brats in the other room or to kiss them both senseless.

Leaning against the slick wall, Qui-Gon allowed himself a tiny surge of anger at his Padawan. Obi-Wan had manipulated him into this; of that he had little doubt. Thian had surely helped but when it came down to it Obi-Wan had maneuvered his own master, quite rudely, into having sex with him. And Qui-Gon wasn't quite sure why that bothered him so much.

It was trust, he realized, he'd trusted Obi-Wan and the young man had abused that trust. He couldn't resent Thian for that, he owed Qui-Gon nothing but Obi-Wan...Obi-Wan he would have trusted with his life. And Qui-Gon had made that mistake before.

Hastily, he pushed that thought aside. This was nothing like that, he told himself fiercely, nothing! Obi-Wan was not like that, he could not be, couldn't. Still, he wondered.

A half-formed idea suddenly pushed its way into his mind, a very appropriate punishment and he grinned to himself as he stepped out of the shower and dried off haphazardly. Wrapping the damp towel around his hips, he opened the door.

The two Padawans were still sitting on the rumpled bed, still naked as Qui-Gon had ordered. They both looked up at him with wary eyes as he entered and Qui-Gon raised an inquiring brow at them. He leaned against the doorjamb, well aware of the picture he made. His hair was still damp and clinging, moisture still glistening on his chest and shoulders and the towel was slung low on his hips.

The tension in the air seemed to up a notch as the two young men stared at him and Obi-Wan actually squirmed once before he caught himself.

"I've decided on your punishment," he announced and the wariness in those eyes only increased. "Obi-Wan." His Padawan jumped, swallowing nervously. Qui-Gon crooked a finger at his apprentice and the young man came to him, as slowly as if he were walking through syrup, but he came.

His rather brief life flashing before his eyes, Obi-Wan went and stood before his master. It was worth it. The thought sneaked past his defenses and Obi-Wan winced as he realized Qui-Gon had caught it. He didn't take it back, because it was true. Whatever punishment he received would be well worth getting to touch his wondrous master intimately, just once. The only regret he had was that it would only -be- once.

He raised his chin and met Qui-Gon's eyes defiantly. Something he couldn't read flickered in those blue depths before they shuttered completely.

"Sit," Qui-Gon instructed and Obi-Wan sat, in a smallish armchair that was in one corner of the room.

He left his Padawan there and walked over to Thian, who had been watching with wide eyes, even as he had been trying very hard to simply vanish into the background. Qui-Gon was having none of it. He had a score to settle with this young man as well. He towered over the boy, who was still sitting on the bed, and to Thian's credit he didn't shrink away. Instead, like Obi-Wan, he met the master's eyes and his own told the same story that Obi-Wan's had. It had been worth it.

Qui-Gon turned back to face his Padawan. "Obi-Wan, I'm going to give you a very simple command and I expect you to follow it. That is to be your punishment."

Obi-Wan nodded, confusion starting to overshadow his apprehension. Could it be that easy? But Qui-Gon hadn't finished.

"I want you to sit in that chair. Just sit, don't move and don't speak. And I want you to watch." And with no other warning he leaned down and captured Thian's lips in a fierce kiss.

The boy inhaled sharply and Qui-Gon immediately took advantage of his lapse, pushing his tongue into Thian's mouth and teasing the lax tongue that he found within.

Hesitantly and then with more confidence, Thian responded, opening up to let Qui-Gon stroke deeper. Qui-Gon lightly brushed his tongue across the ticklish roof of Thian's mouth and the Padawan had to stifle a laugh, rubbing his own tongue against it to get rid of the sensation.

Qui-Gon pulled back and then leaned to gently trace Thian's ear with the very tip of his tongue before whispering, "If you don't want this, tell me at any time." Even, white teeth nipped at the soft lobe and Thian had to suppress a gasp. "I don't want to press you into anything."

Thian reached up and held the other man's head, turning it so that he could kiss Qui-Gon deeply before whispering, "You aren't. Besides," a devilish grin, "I had you last night, it's only fair that I return the favor."

Sitting across the room, Obi-Wan watched the entire display with his emotions teetering in all directions. He wanted to keep watching, wanted to join them, wanted to pull Thian off the bed and take his place.

Unfair? Maybe. But he didn't care. At this moment, sitting here in a chair able to do nothing while his master, -his- master, made love to someone else was making him burn with equal parts of lust and jealousy.

Fuming silently, he watched as Qui-Gon trailed kisses down Thian's neck and gently bit the juncture where it met his shoulder.

Qui-Gon picked up Thian's padawan braid from where it lay across his chest and tugged it out of the way, allowed the thin cord of hair to drag along the sensitive skin and Thian gasped, arching up as it brushed one nipple.

A warm mouth replaced the coarser feel of the braid, tongue laving it into a hard, needy peak before moving to the other nipple to repeat the action.

Obi-Wan squirmed uncomfortably, hard in spite of himself, watching the two on the bed with a kind of aching helplessness as Qui-Gon moved lower, using lips and tongue as a form of torture against the writhing Padawan beneath him

Flat on his back now, Thian was practically whimpering as Qui-Gon blew gently on his cock through pursed lips, so close to his straining flesh but not touching. Close enough that Thian could feel the heat of Qui- Gon's lips and breath even through the feverish intensity that enclosed his cock.

Thian watched, breath held, as just the very tip of a pink tongue was extended, giving the aching head a tentative lick, as if tasting him. He almost screamed as that tongue was withdrawn, and then did scream, uncaring of who might hear him, when it was abruptly replaced by the hot cavern of a mouth.

Of their own will his pale fingers entangled themselves in the damp strands of Qui-Gon's hair, and it was allowed. Qui-Gon even tilted his head back to take his cock deeper still, until the tip nudged the back of his throat.

And then he pulled back almost roughly, holding Thian's hips down as he sucked and released until Thian felt like no more than a pulsing mass, hovering just on the edge of ecstasy.

Qui-Gon paused, holding Thian's erection deeply as his eyes flicked towards Obi-Wan. Grey clashed with blue and he saw arousal and blind fury in the depths of his Padawan's eyes. Good.

Deliberately, he pulled back, his eyes still locked with Obi-Wan's as he sucked Thian back into his mouth, hard, and the boy came, his hands tightening painfully in Qui-Gon's hair as he whimpered and spilled his seed into the master's eager mouth.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon swallowed the other boy's semen and all he could do was sit, trembling in impotent rage. His breathing was ragged and he was perilously close to tears as he watched his master

(his!)

pull back and kiss Thian tenderly, whispering something too softly for Obi-Wan to hear.

"Get dressed, Padawan." The much harder tone made Obi-Wan jump, the sound of words in the strange quiet shaking him from his fog of anger.

He released his rage immediately, as he had been taught, donning a mask of complete serenity as he stood and did as his master said.

Qui-Gon was following his own order, dressing quickly and smoothing the worst of the wrinkles out of the abused fabric. He finished just after his apprentice and, without even a glance at Thian who was already dozing on the rumpled sheets, he caught his Padawan's wrist in an iron grip and all but dragged him out the door.

The grip didn't lessen one bit as Qui-Gon propelled Obi-Wan through the halls, ignoring anyone they passed. It was downright painful by the time they reached their quarters.

Once, during the walk, Obi-Wan had reached out through their bond and tentatively brushed his master's mind, only to find it completely closed to him.

He had recoiled instantly, a tiny spark of fear growing in his belly. He pushed it away quickly. Surely this would pass. Qui-Gon couldn't really be -that- upset, not after the night before. Could he?

A cold feeling was spreading from the pit of his stomach and was only made worse when the door shut quietly behind them, Qui-Gon finally turning to face him.

Obi-Wan swallowed, hard, at the expression on Qui-Gon's face. It wasn't one he had ever seen his master wear, not for him. Cold, hard. And unforgiving.

A tiny part of Obi-Wan's mind protested, crying out I didn't mean for -this- to happen, I only wanted.. he squelched it viciously and met Qui-Gon's eyes steadily with his own.

Qui-Gon looked away first, sighing heavily and he sank down into a chair, feeling as if weariness had seeped into his very bones. He didn't know what to do, he admitted to himself. He was angry that he had been manipulated and lied to, that was true, but he also felt...used, almost cruelly seduced, by someone he would have trusted with his life. There was something he needed to know.

"Why, Obi-Wan?" he asked, his words soft but edged with iron. "Why? Why did you do that to me?"

Those softly spoken words served to push Obi-Wan headlong into despair. Do that to him? Was that how he saw it? The wildest, most erotic thing that Obi-Wan had ever experienced, actually having had this beautiful enigma of a man make love to him even if the man himself hadn't known it. And all Qui-Gon felt was as if something had been done to him.

The aching in his stomach was just the same as when he had found out that his Master had gone to Thian. It had been both expected and unexpected. Expected because that had been the plan. Unexpected because Obi-Wan hadn't thought that Qui-Gon would do it, not really. He'd half hoped that Qui-Gon would come to him instead, would finally see him as a man.

That had been his intention days before, when he'd made love to Thian knowing full well that his master had been watching. But in all his plans and fond daydreams he'd never expected this coldness afterward.

Well, what -did- you expect, he castigated himself savagely. A declaration of undying love? A betrothal bracelet? At the most he should have expected Qui-Gon's deep disappointment when he discovered that the other boy was actually his own Padawan. And at the worst he should have expected...well, this.

He looked at his master, who was still waiting for an answer and so he gave him the only one that he could.

"I wanted you," Obi-Wan said simply, not bother to camouflage the words or hide behind pretty apologies. He would accept whatever punishment Qui-Gon saw fit to give and he would still call worth it because he now had one memory that he could cherish the rest of his life.

"You wanted me?" Qui-Gon repeated incredulously. That's it, his mind screamed, that's all? You turned my world upside down because you wanted me?

All the hope he hadn't dared let himself realize he was feeling flowed out of him and left him feeling limp and empty.

"You wanted me," he repeated dully, sagging back into the chair. But the void within him wasn't empty long. It was filling quickly with something cold and dangerous. Something very like anger and when he looked at his calm, stoic Padawan standing in front of him in a posture of respect, his vision slowly became tinged with red.

"You wanted me," he said again, silkily, noting that Obi-Wan had seen the change within him and the younger man's calm had cracked somewhat. Obi-Wan wet his lips nervously but didn't move away.

"If you want me so very much, Padawan, then perhaps you should have me." He stood, captured Obi-Wan's already abused wrist and pulled him along behind down the short hall to his bedroom. Obi-Wan nearly stumbled into him when he stopped abruptly and turned around.

"Strip."

Obi-Wan flinched. "Master, I..."

"Strip!" he barked, "You said you wanted me and I intend to see that you get me."

Part of him wanted to protest that he hadn't wanted this at all, not with this anger, this coldness between them. The other part was already raising trembling hands to the ties of his clothes, not daring to disobey an order from his master.

His fingers were uncharacteristically clumsy, fumbling to remove clothing that should have been second nature to him. He apparently wasn't moving fast enough because large hands were abruptly helping him, stripping off his clothing briskly, almost roughly, until he was naked and shivering. He had to quell the urge to cover himself with his hands as Qui-Gon's eyes raked over him critically.

"Lie down," Qui-Gon ordered and Obi-Wan did, lying on his back on the soft, neatly made bed. Qui-Gon quickly stripped off his own clothes and Obi-Wan watched, getting hard in spite of himself as Qui-Gon's body was revealed to him.

The worst part about the night before was it had been too dark to see anything. And now his eyes were faced with a veritable feast. Qui-Gon was beautiful, tall and well muscled, his hair still a bit damp and hanging loosely around his face. Even as his body's reaction embarrassed him Obi-Wan couldn't help but think that perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. As long as he didn't look into Qui-Gon's eyes, then perhaps he could bear it.

Naked, Qui-Gon climbed into the bed and knelt between Obi-Wan's legs, pulling Obi-Wan's knees up until his feet were resting flat on the bed. Sliding one hand down Obi-Wan's flank, he moved his hand inward to the young man's backside, unerringly finding the entrance to his body and without preamble thrust two fingers inside.

Obi-Wan cried out, more from surprise than from pain, as he fought the instinct to pull away. He was still somewhat slick and loosened from the night before but he was a bit sore too and he had to struggle to hold still as those fingers probed him. They were withdrawn and just as abruptly replaced with the slick head of Qui-Gon's cock. With no warning or even waiting for the younger man to adjust he thrust deeply inside.

Awash with sensation, buffeted by pain and pleasure as both fought for the right to rule him Obi-Wan cried out hoarsely, torn between pushing his master away and pulling him closer.

He chose closeness but Qui-Gon shook off his grasping hands. Instead, he tightened his own grip on Obi-Wan's hips and rolled them over neatly, so that Obi-Wan was astride him.

"You wanted me, now you have me. Move," he ordered. Obi-Wan did nothing, just looked at him with wide eyes.

He grasped Obi-Wan's hips, grinding him downward, forcing himself deeper inside and the boy gasped.

"Move!"

And he did, awkwardly at first, unsure, but then faster, his rhythm increasing as he found his balance.

Qui-Gon's hands slipped from Obi-Wan's hips and down to the mattress, clenched into fists. It was all he could do not to arch up into the slow, careful movements but he held back. Obi-Wan had wanted this and now he could take it.

He closed his eyes, unable to look anymore at the young man. Force, it was just like he remembered, just as tight, as hot, as simply perfect. His hands clenched in the bed linens, struggling not to grab the boy and jerk him down harder, faster.

He didn't need to, Obi-Wan obeyed his unspoken command, rising up and dropping down hard, taking Qui-Gon's cock deeper still until Qui-Gon was balanced on the edge of orgasm; just a bit more would tip him over.

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, holding back groans that were trying to fight their way out of him, arching up against his will, needing more...and felt a soft drop of warmth on his chest. And another. He opened his eyes.

Obi-Wan still moving above him, biting his lip as he moved quickly, lifting himself up and then dropping down. He looked strangely beautiful, his skin gleaming with perspiration and tears making silver trails down his face. Tears. As Qui-Gon watched another one slipped off to drop on his chest.

Obi-Wan's erection had dwindled away, he was completely flaccid, taking no pleasure in what he'd said he wanted, concentrating only on doing as his master ordered. Moving as Qui-Gon had told him while slow, silent tears fell gently from his face.

Stop, Qui-Gon wanted to say, Stop, I didn't mean to do -this-, stop, stop But in the time he could have said it Obi-Wan pushed down hard and he came. He cried out hoarsely in pleasure and shame as he did grab Obi-Wan then, clutching him close as he thrust upward helplessly, lost to sensation even as he dimly felt the warmth of Obi-Wan's tears.

His arms fell away from Obi-Wan, dropped limply to the bed and Obi-Wan shifted, moving off of him cautiously, waiting to see if he would be called back. He wasn't and he moved carefully to the far side of the bed.

Qui-Gon was still gasping for breath, eyes closed as little tremors went through his body. He all but melted into the sheets, utterly relaxed but ecstasy was short lived.

"May I go now, Master?" An awkward, subdued voice and Qui-Gon opened his eyes with a sense of dread. Obi-Wan was sitting on the other side of the bed, his legs pulled up with his arms wrapped around them as if to ward off a chill, looking resolutely at the floor.

Gods, what had he done? Qui-Gon actually felt physically ill. This was far worse, infinitely worse than what Obi-Wan had done to him. For Obi- Wan to use him for pleasure was one thing but for Qui-Gon to repay the use by abusing his own Padawan...he couldn't even comprehend the consequences.

Obi-Wan glance up then and looked at his master with tired, wounded eyes, his eyelashes wet and spiky from his tears. Qui-Gon realized he was still waiting for an answer.

"Yes, Padawan, you may go now," he murmured with difficulty around the lump in his throat. The words had barely left his lips before Obi-Wan bolted, almost running from the room. The shower started moments later.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes against his own threatening tears, but they fell anyway, slipping silently past his lashes and down his cheeks. Oh, Force, what have I done?

Obi-Wan stood under the hot spray of the shower, scrubbing away every touch from his skin until it was glowing pink and sore but he couldn't wash away the memory in his head, of Qui-Gon just taking him with no thought of his comfort or pleasure.

He thought of his own pleasure at the memory of the night before and nearly gagged, wanting now to rip that memory from his brain and never think of it again. If Qui-Gon had felt last night even half the way that Obi-Wan felt now...

He shuddered in self-disgust, not bothering to halt the tears as he sank to the floor, letting the water pound down on his back as he curled into a tight ball of misery and guilt.

If Qui-Gon had intended to teach him a lesson, he'd done it well. Obi- Wan understood perfectly. Qui-Gon didn't, wouldn't, love him and if Obi-Wan wanted a relationship of a sexual nature between them then this was how it would be.

He understood and tomorrow he would go back to being the good, obedient little Padawan he had always been before and then perhaps they could put this entire sordid mishap behind them. This was not a lesson that Obi-Wan ever wanted to be taught again.

-finis-

I know, I know. The ending was a bit abrupt. No death threats required, folks, a sequel is already in the works.

Questions, comments, to keelywolfe@aol.com