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-
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