Sequel to: this series begins after the Virgins series
Archive: Yes to M-A
Category: Humor
Rating: PG
Feedback: Please!!
Summary: Qui-Gon decides to exact a little revenge on his 16
year old padawan.
This story is (hopefully) going to be part of a series set
after the Virgins series. In the Virgins series Obi is
pre-puberty. In this series he is sexually aware but underage
(16 or so). In the next series (when I get to it) he'll be over
18. I'm probably gonna jump back and forth between them all.
Hope you all enjoy and on to the fic...
For three long years Qui-Gon had waited. He had bided his time
and patiently withstood the polite glances and reassuring
smiles of his friends and colleagues. He had accepted their
pity and their sympathies. Now it was time. His revenge would
be complete. His padawan was in deep poodoo.
Obi-Wan walked into their quarters, his hair tousled and his
clothes rumpled. Qui-Gon knew good and well where the boy had
been, who he had been with, and just what the two young men had
been up to. Since the Jedi master actually liked the young man
his padawan was seeing he decided to wait until Obi-Wan was
alone to exact his revenge. No use embarrassing the Sith out of
a boy he really liked.
"Have fun, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked from his chair startling the
young man a bit.
"Um, yes, Master," he replied, not sure exactly how to answer
that particular question.
"Are you alright, Obi-Wan? You look a bit flushed," Qui-Gon
observed.
"I'm fine, Master," Obi-Wan replied as he turned toward his
room.
"What happened to your clothes, Padawan? They seem a bit
rumpled." Qui-Gon was determined not to allow his padawan to
escape to the relative safety of his room. Not when the fun was
just beginning.
"I apologize for the state of my dress, Master," Obi-Wan said,
edging closer to his perceived safety. "I shall change at
once."
"Oh, that's not necessary," Qui-Gon said good-naturedly. "Come
over here and sit with me for a while."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied a bit warily. Something was
going on, but he had no idea what.
"Where did that come from?" Qui-Gon asked in mock outrage as he
stared at his apprentice's neck and struggled to keep the grin
from his face.
"What?" Obi-Wan asked, not understanding what his master was
referring to.
"That bruise on your neck," he explained. "Were you fighting?
Did Trevor hit you? Did he try to hurt you, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan was confused for a moment, then realization dawned. The
hickey. His master was talking about the hickey Trev had given
him. How in all the hells was he going to explain this to his
master?
"I'll get Master Vruk on the comm," Qui-Gon continued when
Obi-Wan remained silent. "His padawan has no right to treat you
like that. I'll have him brought before the Council to answer
for his attack."
Obi-Wan continued to stare at his master as the man's words
sank in. Master Vruk'...attack'...Council'...
"No, Master," he said quickly, stilling his master's hand on
the comm link. "It's not like that. Trev didn't hurt me."
"Did he put that mark on you, Padawan?" Qui-Gon demanded, his
eyes blazing.
"Yes, Master, but'..."
"Then he most certainly did hurt you!" Qui-Gon thundered. "I
will not stand idly by while another puts bruising marks on my
apprentice."
"It's not a bruise, Master," Obi-Wan said, blushing furiously.
"It most certainly is a bruise, Padawan," Qui-Gon insisted. "A
black and blue mark on your body is a bruise. I know no other
thing that it could be."
"It's not a bruise, Master," Obi-Wan repeated. "It's a hickey."
"It's a what?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice colored in disbelief
that his innocent padawan would allow such a thing.
"A hickey, Master," Obi-Wan repeated, blushing still more.
"And you allowed this to be placed upon your body?" Qui-Gon
asked in his most astonished voice. "You consented to it?"
"Yes, Master."
"And you enjoyed this? You enjoyed another man sucking on your
neck hard enough to leave a mark?" Qui-Gon could feel the waves
of embarrassment rolling off of his sixteen-year-old apprentice
as he nodded his head. It was all he could do not to burst out
laughing and ask him how it felt. Ah, revenge could be such a
sweet dish.
Obi-Wan was mortified. How could his master even ask him that?
Of course, he had enjoyed it. Enjoyed it immensely as a matter
of fact. Trevor was quite a kisser. But there was no way he was
telling that to his much older and rather strait-laced master.
"Perhaps you should tell me what else you and Trevor have
gotten up to?" Qui-Gon said, still the picture of masterly
concern. "You're not doing anything unsanitary, are you?"
"Um, it's kind of personal, Master'..." Obi-Wan said.
Unsanitary? Did the man just ask him if he was doing anything
UNSANITARY?
"You didn't let him put his penis in your behind, did you,
Padawan?"
Obi-Wan's face turned scarlet before all the color promptly
drained away. Muttering something about a sudden headache, the
young man bolted from the couch and raced to his room. Qui-Gon
finally let the laughter inside him out, careful not to let
Obi-Wan hear. Yes, indeed, revenge was a sweet, sweet dish.
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