Trade

by Quadra (janelane@mac.com)

Rating: NC-17

Category: PWP, humor

Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan

Spoilers: Nah. Obi-Wan's about 20.

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns the fun stuff. I own a Power Mac G3 and a pair of combat boots.

Archive: M_A, SWAL, whoever else wants it - just ask first

Summary: Words are fun. Not only do they provide a not-always-effective means of communication, but they can get you into trouble, too.

Feedback: would be greatly appreciated. This is my first time, so I'm desperate to find out if I should re-lurk or not. Send to: vixen@worc.u-net.com, please.

For Laura JV, who kindly (evilly?) put the idea in my head, and provided encouragement throughout, as well as reminding me of the power of Masterful!Qui-Gon.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon looked up from the book he was reading and raised an eyebrow. "Mm?"

"How do I look?"

"You look like trade, Obi-Wan." His gaze shifted back down to the book in his lap.

Obi-Wan choked. "Trade?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan. You look like trade."

He was unable to suppress the hysterical laughter. "Master!"

"Yes?"

"How can you say that!?"

"I can say it because it's true." Never looking up from the book.

"You're sitting there, all calm, stoic Jedi master, and saying things like 'trade'!"

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"Be home by twelve-thirty at the latest."

"Yes, Master." He could tell when a discussion was over.

Obi-Wan looked around as he approached the group of Padawans at the bus stop. He wasn't dressed so differently... granted, their clothing was all cloth, while his was mostly leather. //So what? So you like wearing leather! That's not a crime!// By the time he stopped next to Bant, he was scowling.

"What's wrong, Kenobi? I've never seen you look sad on a club night."

"It's my Master."

"He didn't want you to go?"

"No, he let me go. But he said something weird before I left."

"Weird? You still have the same master, right? Qui-Gon Jinn? The quiet, calm, stoic guy?"

"He didn't deviate from that pattern, tonight. But it was weird!"

"Spill it, Kenobi. What did he do?"

"He said I looked like trade."

Nothing laughs like a Calamarian.

"Fuck you, Bant, it's not fucking funny! Where the hell does he get off saying things like 'trade'?"

"Well, you do look like trade, Kenobi. But I'm still processing the image of Master Jinn saying that. Was he laughing? Or did he look...."

"Look like what?"

"Interested."

Obi-Wan stopped breathing for a few moments. "...interested...."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Was he?"

"I... I don't know. He looked.... dammit, it was just weird. I mean, 'trade'?"

That sent Bant into another fit of giggles.

"Just forget it, okay? I don't think I want to think about this."

"I think you do." Bant's expression softened, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the group. "Listen to me for a second. Are you upset because he used that particular word, or are you upset because he seemed to notice your appearance?"

"I think the word is weird, but... I just can't imagine Qui-Gon applying it to me, I guess. I'm his Padawan!"

"And he's a man. We put up that stoic Jedi front, but you know what's underneath. You're far from cold or inhuman yourself. I know that."

"But he's... he wouldn't..."

"Obi, I think you need to skip the party tonight. Go home, and ask him what he meant, if you don't already know. You need to deal with this for yourself." She reached out and hugged him.

"Thanks, Bant."

"What are friends for?" She rolled her eyes. //How they let people this dense get into the Jedi Order, I'll never know.//

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before stepping back into the apartment he shared with Qui-Gon.

"Master?"

"Hmm?" Qui-Gon was still reading that damned book.

"Where exactly do you get off telling me I look like trade?"

"Shouldn't you be at the club with your friends?"

"Master, you're not answering my question."

"Very well." He put down the book and stood up. "You asked for my opinion of your appearance. I gave it."

That crooked half-smile. And the sparkle in his eyes. Sith take the man, he was enjoying this. Well, fine. Two could do that.

Obi-Wan smiled back wickedly, slipping his right hand casually down the front of those tight leather pants. "And your opinion was that I looked like... trade?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Master. Not. At. All."

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, raising an eyebrow speculatively. Qui-Gon blinked a few times, then nodded, and Obi-Wan unfastened his pants and, without preamble, took his already-hard cock into his mouth. Qui-Gon reached for his Padawan's braid, and wrapped it around his hand to steady himself. It was over within a matter of minutes, Qui-Gon pushed over the edge by the vision of his student offering himself so... decadently. Obi-Wan swallowed, then sat back on his heels grinning up at his Master.

Qui-Gon stared, still disbelievingly, at the vision before him. His Padawan, on his knees, in those painted-on leather pants... pulling his hand out of the front and licking his own semen from his palm with that delicate pink tongue...

//What did I do to deserve this? Never mind, just thank the Force I did it, and hope I keep on doing it...// He extended his hand. "Come on, Padawan, let's get you out of those tight pants and into something more comfortable." He paused at the bedroom door and flashed a predatory grin. "Like me."

END