Of Masters and Senators

by Boots ( obi_wan_kenobi69@hotmail.com )

Archiving: yes, please!

Website: http://www.ravenswing.com/~boots/lordoftherings.html (site in repair)

Pairing: A/O, O/Q

Category: Angst, I suppose

Spoiler: AOTC fic, so YES.

Rating: R

Warning: mild AoTC spoilers, I guess, slightly non-con theme, but not really

Summary: Anakin is fed-up with trying to explain the concept of desire to a celibate Obi-Wan, so being a hands on, dark-side kinda guy, he shows him.

Feedback: Gosh, PLEASE, I'm all excited after seeing AoTC yesterday, bunnies are running amuck, advice on feeding, caring and skinning thereof very welcome.

Whilst the Senator took rest in her bedchamber, Master Kenobi sat Padawan Skywalker down to mediation.

"The Force is the wind, is the rain, is the pail and the grain," Obi- Wan began after a pause.

"The Force is in fire, is in storm, in renewal and doom," Anakin composed half-heartedly. It seemed to him that the beautiful Senator was in grave danger, what they should be doing was sitting by her bedside vigilantly watching for assassins, rhyming was not the solution to their problems.

"In the silent desert, in the dancing stars, our Master giving succour," there was a sad twinge on the tips of Obi-Wan's brows.

Anakin shifted, rolling his eyes, then reaching inward to dredge up whatever thoughts floated in his mind. "In her soft refusal, in her sweet refrain, a lover savoury and cruel."

Obi-Wan opened one eye to glare at his apprentice. "Keep your mind here and now, please Padawan," he said dryly. "A great warrior, a fastidious scholar, with eyes sharp and arms akimbo, that is a Jedi knight."

Anakin caught the words and spoke on "A bosom sister, a willing friend, with hands open and legs askew . . ."

"That is enough!" Obi-Wan shot up from his lotus and frowned at Anakin. "You will not taint our meditation with expostulations of what you want from the former Queen Amidala. You are a Jedi, and Jedi know not the desires of the flesh."

"I do not only desire her with my body," Anakin looked at Obi-Wan with disdain. "I like all of her."

"But you can't!" Obi-Wan forced his voice to drop into a whisper. "You vowed when you joined the order that you will forget these things, you cannot renege on your promise now, Qui-Gon gave his life so that you could . . "

"Oh can we please, for once, have an argument without Qui-Gon being dragged into it!" Anakin threw his hands up in the air. "I didn't kill him. The Sith did. What does that have to do with my love for Padme?"

"Nothing, everything, I don't know," Obi-Wan gestured furiously, rubbing a hand through his hair with frustration, he whispered, eyes skyward. "Master, give me the stamina to deal with him." Anakin tapped a foot, crossing his arms in readiness for Obi-Wan to get his argument together with a sneer on his lips.

"Look Anakin, we are Jedi, we save the world, we sacrifice our lives, we embrace the Force but we do not go out and date women," Obi-Wan opened his eyes wide and lifted his shoulders, to indicate that what he said was quite clearly the obvious.

"What are we, droids?" Anakin cast his eyes down. "If the Force wanted me to be celibate, it'd not have made Padme." He added flippantly.

"So you are going to throw it all away, never mind how she would feel if you did, and what, press your wishes upon her?" Obi-Wan shook his head. "Don't you understand Anakin, that there are things more important than feelings, no matter how strong you think these feelings are. They are emotions, fleeting and deceptive. They feel like the entire world when you experience them, as if without it you'd never take breath again, but catastrophes happen and when you are left behind, threadbare and bereft, you will find that without Amidala you can still go on, still laugh and train and function and be a Jedi."

Anakin threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Master, your jokes were never that great, but this time, you have me in stitches."

"I'll have some respect, thank you Padawan," Obi-Wan scowled, it hurt him to see Anakin like this, his head completely turned by the Queen and his laughter like sneers.

"Who are you to tell me about what love is or is not? You, the blandest, driest Jedi Master to grace the Order, who never pays attention to beauty. What are your interests? Reading up on the Sith sitting beneath your deceased Master's bust in the Library every rest rotation. I hear talk that you began as an initiate of great potential, slew a Sith and became the youngest humanoid Jedi Master in history, only to suddenly fade into a dull old man in a still young body. You walk about with that stuffy beard which was the fashion a decade ago and a slouch, complaining and criticising everything I do like an old, nagging, protocol droid. What are you, eight years my senior?"

Obi-Wan did not like where this was going, it is not unusual for Anakin to be informational, but it was rare for their fights to get so personal. And the young man's words stung Obi-Wan, of course he had to mature fast, he had the Chosen One as an apprentice and the passing of his Master to quash all the youthfulness out of him. But that did not make him an insensitive, draconic Master, did it?

"You are not so bad looking underneath all that fluff," Obi-Wan heard Anakin say.

"What?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"I wager you could make Padme pause and stare if only you tried, not that you'd be real competition for me," Anakin smirked and stepped up to Obi-Wan, who, foolishly took a pace back, making Anakin grin wolfishly. "You are so prudish Master, you speak as if you know what this is, but you don't."

Obi-Wan breathed deeply and steadied his mind and fast beating heart. As Qui-Gon and experience has taught him, he ought to appeal to some flaws in his opponent and thus disarm them. "Tempt me," he said to Anakin.

"Excuse me?" Anakin jerked back incredulously.

"Why don't you try and seduce me with the flesh, Padawan," Obi-Wan looked up triumphantly into Anakin's face. "Lets go out and find some Twi-lek dancing girls, and drape their tendrils around my neck and see what happens."

For a moment Anakin looked shocked, then his glittered as he calculated the stakes in his head, Obi-Wan waited patiently for his response quite assured in his own resilience, until he saw a dark look sneak into Anakin's eyes, coiling about the blue depth like black poison released underwater. A cold shiver raced up from Obi- Wan's neck through to the top of his skull, it felt momentarily numb and then the sensation was gone. Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin's face in alarm, he know his apprentice was gifted in ways no one could truly understand, he wondered if Anakin had just invaded his mind, but could not be sure or have any proof for all shields were up high and appeared unbroken.

"They'll excite you as much as Mace Windu reading the Temple budget from last cycle," Anakin inclined his head and fluttered his lashes, drawling slowly as if he was hearing suggestion from the Force itself. "What you like ... is ... um ... oh."

Anakin stroked his Master jaw, gently and moved his tall frame to stand over Obi-Wan, letting his head fall forward and his other arm come up to grip Obi-Wan's waist. In a deepened, husky voice Anakin murmured "This." He rubbed his thumb over Obi-Wan's cheeks, heated without the Jedi Master being aware of it.

Obi-Wan's nostril flared, he could scent something in the air, a warm familiar aroma he'd not smelt for a long time. Anakin's fingertips were rough and his lips soft as they pressed to his temple. Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes, leaning forward into his apprentice's broad chest. As the Senator's room faded from his vision, a different surrounding appeared, they were back at the temple, in warmly furnished quarters, slightly messy due to the neglect caused by their hectic schedules of late.

Strong arms embraced him and proceeded to rub the exhaustion out of his back, phantom wisps of hair caressed Obi-Wan's neck, he heard a steady beat in the bosom close to his face and turned his head to press his ear against the pectorals in order to hear that treasured rhythm better.

"Where were you?" he heard himself ask, in a petulant, younger voice.

"Not far," he was answered with gentle indulgence.

Obi-Wan let out a shuddering sigh and admitted in a whimper he hoped was not clearly audible. "I missed you."

"I'm here," a soft chuckle and Obi-Wan was given a playful tug on his Padawan braid, which always cheered him up.

"I have the strangest feeling," Obi-Wan looked up into a shade of Indigo he thought was gone from these galaxies. "That I am very, very sad right now." And indeed tears were pouring down his face in a deluge, like a mourning veil. Obi-Wan sniffled and Qui-Gon cupped his face.

"My strange, wonderful Padawan," Qui-Gon dabbed at the moisture with his sleeve, a bit flustered. "There," and Obi-Wan felt his Master's lips touch fleetingly on his eyes and in a split moment, urged on by the heart-rending ache in his chest, Obi-Wan tilted his head up and their lips connected. Spittal and tears made where their mouths joined slippery and smooth, Obi-Wan began to shake like a one-man star-hopper caught in a seismic blast, the Force was hardly present in everything, it was within him, condensed in his balls and his twitching thigh muscles, in his hands dug into firm buttocks and his jaw, now slack, now snapping, opening for Qui-Gon's tongue and shutting to clamp against the sounds he was making. Fingers stroked up the inside of Obi-Wan's legs and pushed aside the front of his tunic, crept through the slit in up the front of his leggings and wrapped around his organ. Obi-Wan moaned, loudly this time.

"Shh, she'll hear us," a warning was hissed into his ear.

But Obi-Wan could not obey such an instruction, he'd never been touched down there by another, and to have Qui-Gon's hand on him, to have his Master holding him, working the blood inside his shaft up and down his erect member. To smell Qui-Gon together with the tang of his own arousal, Obi-Wan choked on his joyful sobs.

"Be quiet, please," a hand covered his mouth forcefully.

Obi-Wan only groaned and lapped at the palm, which tasted metallic from the handle of a lightsaber, salty with sweat, sweet from the fruit at lunch and a slight hint of a delicate perfume from searching Amidala's fragrant mattress for booby traps. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open. They were not in his old quarters, they were not in the Temple, it was not Qui-Gon who was giving him these disastrous pleasures and it was Anakin, his Padawan Learner, who was kneading and toying with his sex, looking down with amusement and victory in his eyes.

Obi-Wan screamed, though the sound was pushed right back into his mouth by Anakin's hand and it was as much a scream of betrayal, as it was also one of release. He had orgasmed, in a most unpleasant setting, out of shock. The crotch of his leggings soaked heavy with semen, Obi-Wan could only look at Anakin helplessly, disbelievingly, until Anakin slowly released him.

"See?" Anakin said cheerfully. "That's what Padme can do for me. Feels good eh?"

Obi-Wan licked his lips. Then he placed his hands on each one of his own wrists, inside the sleeves of his Jedi uniform, a gesture which he recalled as one of Qui-Gon's favourites, it served well, it kept Obi-Wan from striking his Padawan out of rage. He heard Anakin's parting remark from behind him "I'd never have thought it was Qui- Gon, I take it back about you being prudish!" Obi-Wan straightened his back and walked even steadier toward the door.

"I'll inspect the floor below," he said in rather a normal tone, Qui- Gon would be proud.

When the door swished behind him, however, Obi-Wan took off into a run. He headed for the Temple. Once there, Obi-Wan hastened to the Library, down the entrance, past the data terminals, to the row of busts, past the famous faces of heroes and legends, to stand before Qui-Gon's.

For the first time, the precious metal out of which the portrait was rendered gave him pain, and the stillness of the expression stuck him and left him cold as the statue. All he could see now, was the lack of kissable lips and devouring mouth and desirous eyes and come-hither smiles and the million and one looks, the clues he had missed, let slip or worse, ignored, when they once flickered over Qui-Gon's lively face.