Warning: Too much talk, not enough steamy action! ;-)
Spoilers: not really
Summary: Obligatory "first time" story.
Feedback: Appreciated. If you love it so much you want to tell
the world, please consider the poor empty guestbook on my
webpage. :-)
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Meteor/3329/
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Lucasfilm, no copyright
infringement intended. They were just so pretty that I had to
play with them a little. ;-) Further, there are some
similarities in the beginning to Siubhan's Razor's Edge part
one. No plagiarism intended.
"Focus," Master Qui-Gon told his apprentice. "If you don't pay
attention, you could get injured."
"I'm sorry, Master." Obi-Wan turned off his lightsaber. "I
think I need to go out and clear my head."
"Is it anything you want to discuss?"
"Um, no. It's kind of embarrassing."
"Is there anything I can do about it?"
"No!" Qui-Gon thought that answer was a little vehement.
Obi-Wan must have, too, because he added, "I'm just a little
preoccupied. I'm a young man, master, and... oh, never mind."
Qui-Gon smiled, gently, and put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"As much sex as you've been having lately, my Padawan, I'd
think it would be more satisfying," he teased gently. Obi-Wan
shrugged his master's hand off his shoulder, irritably, and
sighed explosively. The older man raised his eyebrows
curiously.
"It seems like the more I have the less satisfying it is!" he
burst out, then looked away.
"Physically or emotionally unsatisfying?"
"Emotionally, I guess. I enjoy it, but I don't ENJOY it, and
next thing I know I want more."
"Perhaps you are not the sort who is satisfied by recreational
sex. I myself prefer sex in the context of a relationship. Or
perhaps you are trying to use sex to satisfy some other
needs..." He trailed off when he noticed his apprentice
blushing and staring at his feet. "Well, think about it while
you're out." His Padawan looked up, surprised. "You're
certainly no use to your training in this condition."
"I'm sorry, master." Qui-Gon smiled gently at the contrite
face.
"Don't be silly. I was your age, once... back before the
Republic..." Seriously, he added, "You're going to have to
figure out a way to deal with this. It's a serious
distraction."
"Yes, Master"
Flushed and sweaty from dancing, Obi-Wan was chatting up two
women who seemed likely candidates, when a big, swaggering,
muscular guy with a blaster sidled over. "Can I buy you a
drink, pretty boy?"
"I'd love one." He winked at the women. "Be right back,
ladies." He followed the man back to his table, and was handed
a drink. "You want me to share?" he said, inclining his head
towards the women and winking.
"I thought Jedi didn't drink," the stranger said, tauntingly.
Obi-Wan grinned and, taking the challenge, drained his cup.
"I'm only a Padawan. And I'm training to be a knight, not a
monk."
"Oh, I doubt you'll be a Jedi," the stranger smirked. "I
drugged your drink. It should be enough to knock you out cold
any minute now." Obi-Wan blinked as the stranger split into two
identical images. He tried to stand, but couldn't. "I imagine
I'll get plenty of money for one as pretty as you." The
stranger scooted closer. "In fact, I might have to keep you for
my own, personal use for awhile." Something about the way the
man said "use" made Obi-Wan's skin crawl.
"You plan to keep me permanently drugged?" Obi-Wan slurred,
threateningly. "Because you'll have to."
"Oh, I don't think so," the man said, scooting closer still and
fondling the Padawan's thigh. "I think that after I rent you
out to some of my friends who like really rough trade, if you
know what I mean, you'll be docile enough. In fact, if this bar
was just a little sleazier I'd try to rent you out here." His
hand travelled up to Obi-Wan's crotch for a grope.
Obi-Wan managed to stand and stagger a few feet before falling
over. "Oh ho! My young friend can't handle his drink!" the
stranger said, with a wink to the ladies. "I'll just take him
home." He bent over to pick up the drugged apprentice, only to
have a chair hit him in the back of the head, knocking him to
the floor. "You'll be sorry you did that," he said, kneeling
and backhanding Obi-Wan in the face. He flipped the drugged
young man onto his stomach and put some binders on his wrists,
then rolled him back on his back and leaned in for a kiss.
Obi-Wan spat in his face. The stranger slapped him again,
bloodying his lip. "I have half a mind to bend you over one of
these tables. How much do you think people would pay to fuck a
Jedi apprentice?"
"Excuse me," the bartender said, "but we're not this kind of
bar. Let the Padawan go."
"Shut up and mind your own business!" the stranger said,
pulling out his blaster and picking up the struggling young
man. He tossed Obi-Wan easily over his shoulder.
Obi-Wan struggled harder as they moved towards the door. The
stranger stopped in his tracks, and Obi-Wan sensed rather than
saw the presence blocking their path.
"This little one isn't worth the trouble," Qui-Gon said, with a
quiet smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"I suggest you back off!" the stranger said. "I already have a
buyer for this one on Tatooine!"
"And I suggest YOU back off," Qui-Gon answered, calmly. "This
one is mine."
There were some blaster shots, and the hum of a lightsaber, and
then Obi-Wan and the man's arm were lying on the floor. The
binders fell off, seemingly of their own accord. Then Obi-Wan
was aware of his master kneeling beside him on the floor. "Are
you all right?" A gentle hand brushed his cheek. He reached up
and wrapped his arms around his master's neck like a sleepy
child.
"Yeah, I could have taken him... I didn't get a chance to use
my secret weapon... I was going to throw up on him," he
whispered to his master before finally passing out.
Obi-Wan murmured some little incoherent nothings in the cab
ride home, but Qui-Gon couldn't understand what he was saying.
He did finally throw up when they got home, much to his
chagrin. Master Qui-Gon had to hold him up while he vomited,
undress him, and wash his bruised face. Qui-Gon tucked him
gently into bed, then turned to leave.
"No," Obi-Wan moaned, reaching up for his master. It was the
first coherent thing he'd said in an hour. Qui-Gon climbed into
bed beside his apprentice, fully clothed, and the younger man
wrapped himself around the Jedi and fell asleep.
The Jedi didn't sleep, but instead watched over his apprentice.
He slept fitfully, tossing, turning, mumbling... the only word
Qui-Gon could make out was "No." Concerned, he reached into his
apprentice's dream...
That bar. He was bent face down over a table, hands restrained
behind his back with binders, his face pressed into a puddle
made by a spilled drink. The taste of his own blood in his
mouth; the feel of bruises elsewhere. He could feel air on his
exposed buttocks as people passed behind him. The stranger held
him down on the table, and said, "Seventy-five credits! Oh,
come on! All right, fifty, you stingy bastards!"
"Fuck you!" he snarled viciously, struggling. He tried to kick,
but his legs were restrained by his pants around his ankles.
"No, my little friend, fuck YOU," the man answered, laughing,
and pushing him harder into the table. "You, sir, where's your
money?"
Qui-Gon heard his own voice in his apprentice's dream. "I don't
need to pay. This one is already mine."
"You don't need to pay. This one is already yours."
Oh, yes! he thought as Qui-Gon slowly entered him and
began to fuck him. Some of the more unruly bar patrons cheered.
Shame mixed with incredible pleasure as his master picked up
the pace. Not here, no... oh, who cares where, harder!
"More!" he shouted. "Harder! Fuck me! Make it hurt!" The bar
patrons cheered more as Qui-Gon obliged his pupil...
Disturbed, Qui-Gon broke the link. He looked down at his
Padawan's sleeping face. It was considerably more restful. He
could feel Obi-Wan's erection pressing against his leg through
his clothes with a slight rocking motion. Well, he
thought to himself, this is one hell of a way to find out
your apprentice has a crush on you!
You already suspected, he rebuked himself. Nevertheless,
he found the darkness of the image of himself disturbing.
Obi-Wan woke up around dawn to gentle snoring, wrapped around
someone, and looked up into his master's face. Sleepily, he
wondered what Qui-Gon was doing here, and realized that he felt
sated. He must have had some dream. He yawned, and shifted
slightly, only to realize that he had come all over his
master's robes! Argh! He leapt out of bed to get a towel.
At the sight of his bruised face in the bathroom mirror, it all
came back to him. The bar, that man drugging him and trying to
abduct him. Qui-Gon saving him. He didn't remember much more,
but it didn't sound like something that would give him
especially erotic dreams. Ick! he shivered at the
thought.
The towel. He grabbed the towel and crawled back into the bed
and dabbed at Qui-Gon's robes...
"Padawan, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan almost jumped out of his
skin, then flushed deeply.
"I, um, I..." he stammered, paralyzed with embarrassment.
"What? Oh, I see." He pulled the towel out of his apprentice's
hands. "It's no big deal, Obi-Wan. It's a natural reaction for
a young man who was having an erotic dream."
Obi-Wan didn't really want to know, but he had to ask. "Did you
listen in?"
Qui-Gon didn't really want to answer, but he had to tell the
truth. "Yes," he said, in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
"Well," Obi-Wan said after a long pause, "I don't remember it,
but something tells me it was something embarrassing." Qui-Gon
said nothing, but instead continued to dab the towel on the
damp spot. Irresistably compelled by some inner masochism, he
suspected, he asked, "Was it?"
"What?"
"Embarrassing."
"Well, to be perfectly honest, I found it a little disturbing,"
Qui-Gon admitted.
"I guess I'm sick or something."
"I have no problem with sadomasochistic fantasies," Qui-Gon
said. Obi-Wan blushed. "I just had a little trouble with the
image of myself as, well, violently taking you in a bar in
front of a cheering crowd. I don't know, I just don't often see
myself as... well, it's no big deal, just a fantasy. Obi-Wan's
blush deepened. "Lots of Padawans get crushes on their masters.
It's not anything to be concerned about."
"What about your feelings?" Qui-Gon tried his best to balance
honesty and evasion.
"Lots of masters get crushes on their apprentices, too, and not
all of them are as attractive or brilliant as you. It's a
little more serious." His smile faded as he continued. "I have
a lot of power in our relationship, and therefore must be
extra-scrupulous about your consent. The council suggests that
such relationships, while not strictly forbidden, be avoided if
at all possible."
"Is that what you want?"
"I want what's best for you, Obi-Wan."
"I don't want what's best for me," Obi-Wan said, stubbornly. "I
want what you want."
"Then it's a good thing I want what's best for you," Qui-Gon
joked. "Perhaps I should go to bed in my own room."
"Not until you tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"How you feel about me." Qui-Gon sighed.
"Obi-Wan, I love you body and soul. But I'm not doing anything
to jeopardize your training. Come back after you take the tests
if you're still interested."
"But this IS jeopardizing my training! Don't you see?" Now it
was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh. "I think the problem is that for
someone having a lot of sex, I'm kind of... well, afraid... of
opening myself up emotionally, but... that's what I want. I
don't want to have sex, I want to make love, and... I love
you!"
Qui-Gon sighed yet again, and, shielded, reached into his
Padawan's mind. Obi-Wan tried to relax and be calm and let
Qui-Gon find what he wanted to know. Suddenly, he was flooded
with love, and his master's presense soothing away the hurt
spots, and his master's lips on his. He almost swooned into the
kiss, but moments later recovered enough to tug his master's
clothes impatiently. Together they undressed Qui-Gon, and
Qui-Gon rolled over onto Obi-Wan and kissed him deeply. Obi-Wan
ran his fingers through the long, silken hair and pulled his
master's head closer, wrapping a leg around him. Patience,
Padawan, Qui-Gon sent through the link. We have all
night, and the rest of our lives. Obi-Wan sent his loving
surrender through the link, and Qui-Gon was filled with a
fierce urge to protect Obi-Wan, and give him as much pleasure
as he possibly could.
Lips and hair glided caressingly down Obi-Wan's neck and chest.
"Master, I..." Obi-Wan started, but was silenced by a gentle
finger on his lips.
"Shhhh. You'll have your turn. Let me first. Just let go and
enjoy." Obi-Wan kissed the finger lightly, and Qui-Gon replaced
the finger with his lips for another kiss before slowly working
his way down the other man's chest. Obi-Wan could feel
Qui-Gon's pleasure in pleasing him, and he tried to yield up
every ounce of his pleasure into the link without inhibition.
Qui-Gon's mouth was slow and gentle when it finally made its
way to the other man's straining erection. Obi-Wan had never
been very demonstrative, but he found himself moaning loudly
and writhing as his master's hair brushed his hips and thighs
and his master's mouth worked slowly, gently, deliberately,
inexorably. He screamed out his master's name as he came in his
master's mouth with the most intense orgasm of his life.
Qui-Gon moved up to hold his young apprentice as he recovered.
They lay like that for awhile, then Obi-Wan murmured, "You
promised me my turn." It was his turn to work his way down the
other man's body.
"Am I stopping you?" Qui-Gon teased gently, gasping as his
Padawan lightly bit a nipple and sucked gently on it for a
moment.
"You'd better not!" Obi-Wan teased back, bestowing kisses upon
his master's stomach and thighs. Obi-Wan had been told he was
good with his mouth, and he was about to prove it. He lightly
nipped a thigh as he contemplated a strategy of attack. He
could sense Qui-Gon's amusement at his military metaphor, but
in light of the size of Qui-Gon's penis, he thought, martial
metaphors were appropriate--strategy, conquest... Qui-Gon
blushed a moment before gasping as Obi-Wan easily swallowed the
entire length. Well, Obi-Wan sent throught the
telepathic link as he went to work in earnest, you DID
mention I'd been having a lot of sex lately. He pulled
back, running his tongue around the head as he tried to
calibrate Qui-Gon's tastes in pressure, suction, amount of
tongue... Qui-Gon took pleasure in the generous way he gave it,
and was more interested in the emotional interaction than in
any one particular technique, Obi-Wan soon realized, and he
decided to indulge himself in whatever the two of them seemed
to enjoy. He savored his master's pleasure as he brought him
close and backed off several times, before sending him into an
almost torturously intense climax.
Obi-Wan moved back up the bed to wrap his arms and tangle his
legs around his new lover. "You're very talented, Obi-Wan."
"I've always felt more comfortable giving pleasure than
receiving it," Obi-Wan admitted. "I have to really feel safe
with someone to relax as much as I did tonight, but it's easy
to enjoy someone else's pleasure. Less threatening, I guess."
He grinned. "I've never made that much noise before."
"I loved your pleasure."
"I know," Obi-Wan whispered. "I love you."
"And I love you," Qui-Gonn answered, and kissed him on the
forehead before they both fell asleep.
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