(Obi)
"What is it with you tonight?" Keli asks, taking the drink from my hand and grinning mischievously. "Usually I have to beg you to buy me drinks. Suddenly you're buying rounds, without my having to promise sexual favors in return?"
Siri kisses me sweetly on the cheek. "Thanks, Obi. I'll get the next one."
I grin at Keli and lean back against the bar. "I'm just feeling generous tonight. What's wrong with that?"
I am feeling generous. I don't do enough for my friends, and I'd like to be better about that. When I invited Keli to come out with me tonight, I was a little surprised when he insisted on bringing Siri along. The moment I saw them together, I realized they had become a couple. I can't help but wonder when this happened. Have I been that distracted lately?
The lights dim and the music fades, the cue that tonight's band is about to begin the next set. It's a lively crowd for a Thirdday. There's live music tonight, which typically annoys me, since it detracts from the goal of getting laid. Tonight, though, my goals are a bit different.
I smile enigmatically at Keli. He shakes his head. "I'm starting to worry, Obi. We've been here for an entire hour and you've nursed one drink and haven't fucked anybody. Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong!" I laugh. "I'm just... not in the mood tonight." It's not quite the truth, but I don't want to explain that I'm waiting for my boyfriend to show up. I haven't told Keli the whole truth about Bail. This is not the time to start.
Since when have I thought of Bail as my boyfriend?
The band starts their set with a very loud, angry-sounding song. The singer, stringy hair hanging in his face, leaps around and shouts more than he sings in a language I don't understand. Oh, wait -- understood that part -- it is in Basic. Fuck, I must be getting old if I'm turning my nose up at music already. Qui would laugh at that.
"Oooh, what about him?" Siri shouts above the noise, pointing across the room towards a young male Twi'lek.
Keli winces. "Not if I have to fuck him. I don't think I want to try that again so soon."
I laugh understandingly. Siri glances at me and shakes her head. They've each taken someone to the back room in the last hour and are now looking for someone to share. Of course, that means they have to agree. This could take a while.
"All right," Keli offers, pointing. "What about her -- the pink one, the Fortri girl?"
"I've had her," Siri responds flatly.
"You're awfully fucking picky tonight," he jabs playfully, drawing her into an embrace. "Maybe we should just go home." He kisses her. "Alone." She wraps her arms around him and they kiss fairly intensely. Keli pulls away and clenches a handful of thin blonde braids -- her usually loose hair has been braided tonight into a number of strands slightly thicker than her padawan braid. They hang heavily around her shoulders and, along with dramatic make-up around her eyes, make her look fairly exotic. Keli winds the braids around his hand and pulls her head closer to his. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you tonight?" he asks. She chews on her lower lip as her eyes glaze over.
"No idea."
"First, I'm going to lick your--"
"Hey, hey, come on now," I tease, trying to pull them apart physically. "I'm feeling a little left out here." That was about to cross into the realm of too much information.
"And whose fault is that?" Siri asks, reaching out to pull me into their embrace, turning her attention to me now, pressing her body close against mine, lips inches away. "You aren't exactly acting like you're interested in anyone tonight."
I wrap my arms around both of them. "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right person to come along."
"Waiting for Mr. Right?" Keli quips. "I thought it was usually Mr. Right Now you were interested in."
I groan. "That joke is older than Master Yoda."
Keli grins in response, then rolls his eyes in the general direction of the stage. "This band sucks!" I smile, unreasonably relieved that it isn't just me.
"Oh, fucking... will you get a look at that!" We both follow Siri's gaze across the room to a small group of people who've just arrived. I'm not sure which one she's looking at.
"Those are the most amazing tits I've seen all night," Keli moans, leaning against Siri.
I look again. In the group is a young woman I recognize -- petite, long, thick blue hair, very pale freckled skin. Well, woman is a stretch. She can't be more than 15 or 16. "That's Padawan Ailan Waln," I say. Keli and Siri blink.
"Who?" Siri asks.
"Fuck. She was in my level 10 maths class," Keli whispers. "I had no idea she looked like that under her robes. I didn't even recognize her."
"You weren't exactly looking at her face," I grin. I look again. Ailan does indeed have quite an amazing body. Members of her species become sexually mature at a younger age than do humans, I recall. What she's wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination -- a very short dress made of sheer blue fabric. It drapes low, barely covering her breasts, and the hem just grazes the tops of her thighs. It clings to her in all the right places. I should get a closer look at the fabric. I wonder if they make shirts out of that?
"I think she'll do," Siri whispers. "Right, sweetie?"
"Oh, yes," Keli replies. Siri gets Ailan's attention and waves her over with a smile.
Keli glances at me and grins. "She's pretty hot. Sure you don't want to join us?"
"No, I don't think so," I smile. "She's not exactly my type."
"Maybe you should give it a try sometime." Keli turns to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close enough to whisper in my ear. "You might like it, you know. It feels different than fucking a man."
"Leave him alone, Keli," Siri purrs, suddenly behind me. It feels good to be pressed between them like this -- Siri's hands on my ass, Keli grinding his pelvis against mine, hot breath from both of them on my neck. "You know he's slack."
Well. "Maybe you two should take me home sometime," I whisper, nuzzling against Keli's neck. "Show me what I'm missing?"
Siri giggles behind me and wraps her arms around my chest, squeezing me in a hug. "As much as I'd like to see your face between my thighs, I somehow doubt it would ever happen. Even if it did, I'm not sure you'd enjoy it."
I lean back against her, laughing. "No offense, Siri, but I don't imagine I would."
Keli grins at me, a twinkle back in his eye. "What's not to enjoy? The way she tastes, the way she smells, the way it feels to press your face into her and come up dripping?"
That's enough. "Okay, okay," I say, pushing him away, wincing sharply for effect. They laugh and pull me back into a hug. "Now I need to find a big hard cock to suck to get that image out of my mind."
Keli raises an eyebrow. "Is that an offer?"
"He said big," Siri snickers.
"Oh!" Keli swats at her, but she jumps out of the way. He smirks as she hides behind me. "I didn't hear you complaining last night. In fact, you were fairly complimentary."
"Hey, I'm not complaining," I hear from behind me. Siri hooks her chin over my shoulder, hugging me from behind. "I never thought size made that much of a difference anyway."
I grin. "It makes a difference when it's up your ass."
They both burst out laughing at that. "I guess that's true," Siri giggles. She leans around me to kiss Keli apologetically. "I'll show you later just how much I love your smaller-than-average cock, sweetie."
Keli holds up his hands. "Wait a minute! I've been with enough men to know I'm not smaller than average."
"He's right, you know," I chime in, cupping his crotch in my hand and twisting my face as if mentally comparing him to a long list of dicks with which I've been intimately familiar. I glance at Siri. "He's at least average. I should know."
Siri shrugs, grinning. "I can't argue with that. Obi knows far more about such things than I do."
Keli laughs and leans into me. "Oh, you're one to talk, Ms. No-tits-to-speak-of."
Siri cups her breasts in her hands proudly. "I like having small breasts. I wouldn't want any more than this. They'd only get in the way while I was sparring. I'd have to wear support when I exercise. It would suck." I find myself staring at her chest, realizing I've never noticed how small her breasts actually are.
Damn, I really am slack, aren't I?
I sigh and glance back and forth between them. They seem to pick at each other like this often, but it's surprisingly good-natured. Neither of them takes offense. I wonder if that's what it's really like to be in a couple. Could Bail and I tease each other like that? Perhaps not in public, but could we talk to each other that way and know that it was all in fun?
A movement at my side catches my attention. Padawn Ailan has arrived. She smiles shyly at me, then more widely at Siri. Siri smiles back and pulls Ailan against her, turning the girl to face us and standing behind her. The top of Ailan's head reaches Siri's chin. Ailan's eyes are large and violet, with long blue eyelashes. The strands of her hair are very thick, almost like yarn, and perfectly coiled into a cascade of blue curls that frame her delicate features. She almost looks like a doll. A very sexy, alluring, doll.
Siri cups the girl's fairly large breasts in her hands, stroking her thumbs across the nipples slowly through the thin fabric. She fixes Keli with a sultry gaze. "See? I can have big tits whenever I want." Ailan closes her eyes and leans back against Siri. Siri leans down to nuzzle the girl's neck. Ailan tilts her head back and Siri kisses her, hands sliding under the fabric of the dress to fondle and squeeze Ailan's breasts.
Keli leans into me, watching quite breathlessly. "That is so fucking hot," he whispers. I pull him back against me and kiss the back of his neck softly. He moans a little in response. I slide my hands under his thin shirt and mirror Siri's touches, stroking fingertips across his nipples.
Siri's hand trails down Ailan's body and pulls up the hem of the dress just enough to slip that hand inside the black silk triangle that seems suspended at her crotch, defying gravity. Her hand moves between the girl's legs, stroking and swirling with some occasional pressure. It's fascinating to watch, in a weird way. I know very little about female sexuality. Male sexuality, on the other hand...
I reach down to stroke Keli's erection through his pants, feeling his heart pounding as he presses against me. I trace the shell of his ear with my tongue, enjoying being a peripheral part of this scene to an extent that surprises me. It occurs to me that I'd like to fuck Keli like this, while he's watching his girlfriend with someone else, while he's not thinking about whose cock is up his ass, but about the scene before him. Maybe we could fuck each other occasionally now that he has a girlfriend and isn't interested in a relationship with me.
"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Keli whispers, as if sensing my thoughts. "It's been a while since you've fucked me. It's sounding really good right now." His hand snakes behind to fondle my half-hard cock.
I bite his neck gently and remove my hands from his shirt, hugging him tightly. "As tempting as that sounds, I've already made plans tonight. Perhaps another time?"
He turns in my arms and kisses me in response, a sweet lingering kiss. When he steps away, he winks. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know." He steps forward to kiss Siri and Ailan in turn. Ailan's doll-like face is contorted with pleasure. Siri draws her hand from between the girl's thighs and Keli catches it in his, bringing her fingers to his mouth and licking them clean, one at a time. Siri closes her eyes and opens her mouth slightly, gasping at the sensation as he slowly sucks on one her fingers.
Well, that's something I know he's good at. Ailan takes them both by the hand and leads them away, presumably to the back room. I watch them go with just a touch of regret. On any other night I might have decided to join in. Tonight, though, I'm holding out for something else.
I make my way up the stairs to the main bar area, eyes sweeping the room for a familiar figure. Bail is late. He said he'd be here by 24th hour. I wonder if something -- or someone -- is holding him up.
A ridiculous thought, as I sincerely doubt Bail is fucking anyone other than me. In fact, I get the sense he may not have very much experience with sex at all. He certainly seems a little uncomfortable with my level of experience. It's charming, in a way; yet disturbing. I'm surprised he agreed to meet me here at all. I teased him last night about our illicit affair, about him not wanting to be seen in public with me -- not even in such an anonymous place as a sex club.
"But I've been in one of those clubs before," he said, stretched out on the sofa, glass of brandy in hand. "That's where we met, remember?"
"But you've only watched. You've never fucked anyone in a club."
His eyes darted down at that to watch his fingers play with the stem of the glass. He looked uncomfortable. I stood up from my spot on the floor then and climbed onto the sofa to straddle him. He smiled up at me quite seductively as I thrust my hips lightly against his groin, feeling our erections growing together through our clothing. I brought his hand up to my mouth and sucked on one of his fingers, swirling my tongue around it as suggestively as possible. He kept his eyes open, though the look on his face was one of sheer bliss.
"Why don't you go out with me to Rising tomorrow night?" I whispered, releasing his finger. "You could fuck me against the wall in the back room. Or I could get on my knees in front of you and suck your cock while you were watching all the people around us fucking each other."
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "If anyone could talk me into that, I suppose it would be you."
With a little more convincing, he agreed to meet me here tonight. He said he would think about doing more than just meeting, but not to hold my breath.
I've restrained myself all evening, since my reeking of a good fuck would probably only convince him never to come here again. It's been more difficult than I'd imagined. I'm relieved I haven't run into that mysterious knight from last Ninthday. If I saw him again, I might just forget about Bail altogether.
And then, quite suddenly, there he is -- Bail Organa, dressed rather anonymously, sitting on a tall stool at the bar, drink in hand. A half-empty drink. How long has he been here?
I slink towards him, stomach fluttering as he catches sight of me and smiles. His dark eyes flash with excitement. One hand comes up to comb through that dark curly hair that he's decided to grow out. I've been fantasizing about clenching it in my fists and pulling his head back while I pound into him from behind. Maybe tonight.
I move to stand between his parted knees, trying not to grin too broadly. "Hi there."
"Hi yourself."
"Buy me a drink?"
He slides a delicate glass towards me. "Already did." I take the glass in my hand, noting the swirls of red and blue. I raise an eyebrow. Draskian cognac? Very expensive. I've only had it once in my life, and that was at a banquet celebrating the end of a successful diplomatic mission. I was only 14 at the time, but Qui let me drink it anyway. He said I should enjoy it, as I was unlikely to ever have it again. "Trying to get into my pants?"
"I think you already know I don't fuck Jedi," he replies, smiling just a little. He slides one hand around my body to squeeze my ass. "But maybe I'll make an exception for you." Even if no one else can see him groping me, the fact that he's made such a gesture in public is quite promising. I step a little closer, leaning into his hand to encourage him to continue touching me. I take a sip of my drink and immediately smile at the exquisite taste. At his exquisite taste.
"Naughty boy," I whisper, licking my lips slightly. I take another sip of the cognac, then lean forward to kiss him. He tenses slightly, but doesn't pull back, letting me press my lips against his softly. I open my mouth and he lets me in, lets me kiss him with all of the passion I feel at this moment. I've been practicing on Qui, and Bail's reaction doesn't disappoint me now. He moans softly into my mouth and pulls me against him. I can feel him harden against my stomach. I stand on my toes so that I can grind my cock against his slowly, rhythmically. He whimpers just a little, and I break the kiss just enough to whisper, "Come on, that's it. Show me how much you want it."
He pushes me away then; his eyes are dark with desire, but his body is rigidly nervous. He exhales softly and shakes his head.
"Too public?" I ask.
"Much," he nods.
"Why don't you come with me, then?" I grin, nodding my head in the direction of the back room. "I know a place where we can do whatever we want, and no one will be watching." Well, that's not completely true, but certainly it's less public than here in the bar.
The nervous expression returns. "Why don't we just enjoy our drinks a little longer and then go back to my flat?" he asks.
I pout a little, but his expression doesn't change. Well, at least this was a start. I wonder briefly if we'll ever be able to come to a place like this and enjoy ourselves. I'd love to spend the evening watching him flirt with beautiful boys, and then help him pick one to fuck. I'd like to see him on the prowl, to watch his face when he picks out the man he wants. I want to watch him in the shadows, fucking some anonymous trick, to see the way his face looks when he comes, to suck his cock while someone is driving into him from behind. I want to show him how free and fun sex really is. I don't think he knows, somehow. Sometimes it doesn't seem like he'll ever feel comfortable enough to share me with anyone at all. But that's what people in couples do -- at least in my experience.
I know that it's different on Alderaan, that the culture I've grown up in is vastly different from his. I don't understand the concept of monogamy, to be honest, but it seems it's what he expects from a relationship. I'm not sure I can give him that. I'm not sure I want to.
We sip our drinks slowly, flirting and watching the crowd. He complains about the terrible band, which makes me laugh with delight. He tells me a joke he heard today -- a joke that is entirely too politically incorrect for a senator to be telling. When I pretend to be shocked by the punch line, he smiles wickedly.
Something twists in me when he looks at me that way. It feels very strange, but very good, too. It's almost as if the entire universe narrows down to just me and Bail, and nothing else exists. I am the only person who sees him like this, to whom he tells these wicked jokes, with whom he shares his body, for whom he smiles so broadly and laughs so heartily. His expression slowly turns into a sweet smile as he reaches out to take my hand. A shiver runs up my spine at the contact and we float there, lost in each other's eyes.
Someone is tugging on my sleeve.
Keli. He throws his arms around me and kisses me enthusiastically. I instantly taste something unfamiliar, something... I press him away, narrowing my eyes.
"See? It's not so bad, is it?" he grins. He turns his gaze to Bail and his eyes widen appreciatively. He plasters on his best "fuck me" smile and steps between us, leaning back against me slightly. "Hi there."
Bail has been watching the scene before him with a strange expression on his face. He glances at me, brows furrowed slightly.
"Bail, this is Padawan Keli Briggs. Keli, this is..." I pause, suddenly not sure how to introduce him to one of my friends. Should I say Gana, or Bail, or Senator Organa, or...? Does he want anyone else to know that we're dating? Is it a secret? I've been keeping it a secret, for the most part. Has he? I meet his gaze, uncertain.
"Senator Bail Organa," Keli says, catching us both by surprise. "You worked with my Master, Kim Tyleen, about three years ago on the Tachol 4 water rights issue, when you were an intern for the Sentient Rights Committee."
Bail's eyes widen with surprise. "Oh, yes, I remember you." His gaze travels down Keli's scantily clad body and back up again. "You've... grown up since I saw you last."
Keli leans forward, hands on Bail's knees, and his voice drops to a whisper. "I'm quite grown up, Senator."
Bail swallows hard, eyes fixed on Keli for a long moment before he looks at me again, an expression between shock and arousal on his face. I grin broadly and roll my eyes before pulling Keli back by the shoulders.
"Down, boy. He's all mine tonight. Where's your girlfriend?"
"Fucking that Twi-lek guy she's fancied all night," Keli quips. Bail's jaw drops.
"And you're not watching? You'd enjoy it -- even you would seem pretty hung in comparison to a Twi'lek."
He turns his head to give me a pained look. "Fuck you, Obi." He turns back to Bail with a searing smile. "Well, Senator, if the two of you ever have need of my services for the night, please don't hesitate to ask." He leans forward, his lips brushing Bail's just barely. "I know exactly how to make your boyfriend happy." He backs off, bows slightly to Bail, winks at me, and then skips away. I turn back to see that the expression on Bail's face is now somewhere between fascinated and scandalized.
I sigh. "You look surprised. I thought you knew how padawans are."
"He's a child!" Bail hisses, his tone catching me completely by surprise. "I thought you were young to be in the clubs, but that boy is..." His voice drops off and he looks away for a moment. "I know the universe is a diverse place, but I find it hard to believe that the Jedi would allow a child of that age to engage in this sort of... behavior." The hint of disgust in his voice is difficult to ignore.
I take a sip of my drink in order to force myself to remain silent. I swallow, and then try to look thoughtful. "How old were you the first time you had sex?"
He sighs. "Older than you are now." I can't prevent the look of surprise from spreading across my face. "I know, I know, Alderaan is a much more conservative place than Coruscant." He pauses again, then looks up at me with a frown. "How old were you?"
I tense my jaw, knowing that he won't like the answer. "Fourteen," I tell him quietly. I was right. He doesn't like it. He inhales sharply and looks away. I wait for him to speak again, draining the last of the cognac from my glass.
Finally, he holds out his hand. "Let's go home. Please?"
I nod my agreement.
The fire is a hypnotic and comforting presence in the room. Bail sighs, relaxing back against me. We're on the floor in his living room, with my back against the sofa and him seated between my legs. I've been stroking his hair while we've sat here in silence, watching the dark curls spring back into place after I stretch them with my fingers. I'm glad he's growing it out, and I should tell him so.
"Will you tell me about your first time?" he asks quietly.
I inhale a little too sharply, surprised.
"You don't have to," he says, misinterpreting my reaction.
"Oh, no, it's fine. I guess I thought you wouldn't want to know, after your first reaction."
"I can be open-minded, you know," he replies. "I am a senator, the most liberal ever elected from Alderaan."
I snicker at that. "Do your constituents know how... liberal you are?"
"They're going to find out, one of these days," he sighs. He doesn't realize I was being facetious. "I really am curious about your first time. Your experience has been so different from mine, and it would help me to understand you. But please don't ask me to tell you about... I don't think I'm ready to tell you yet."
I tense slightly at that. It hurts to know that he doesn't yet trust me enough with that bit of personal history. Of course, I haven't told him everything about myself. I suppose that I don't quite trust him either.
"It was with a friend of mine, another padawan, Garen Muln. We were inseparable as children, but we didn't see each other much after we'd become padawans." I twirl one dark curl around my finger, delighting in the way it coils itself around me, as if acting of its own accord. "One day we came back from a mission and I ran into him in the refectory. I'd never thought about him in a sexual way before, but he had grown nearly a foot since I'd seen him last. And he'd filled out, his chest, his shoulders..." Bail has relaxed against me once again. He takes one of my hands and intertwines his fingers with mine. It's a comforting feeling. "I remember just staring at him, like an idiot. Here was one of my best friends, and I was so surprised by my own reaction that I couldn't even speak to him. He just smiled at me in a way no one had ever looked at me before. I'll never forget that feeling of connection, that realization that he wanted me as much as I wanted him."
"Was that the first time you'd ever been attracted to someone?"
"Yes. I mean, I'd fantasized about people before, but I'd never felt a connection like that with another being. He was on his way to a class or something, so I asked him to come by my quarters that evening. He did, and we sat and talked with Qui-Gon for a while until I got up the nerve to tell him I wanted to show him something in my room."
Bail giggles at that and I tug his hair sharply, pulling his head back so that I can kiss him, upside-down. The fantasy that's been at the edges of my consciousness lately comes back full force, and I find myself tugging his lower lip between my teeth for a moment before continuing. "Give me a break. I was fourteen. It was the best line I could come up with." I reluctantly release him and lean back against the sofa. "So we were in my room, with the door shut, sitting on the bed. We talked for a little while, grinning at each other. Both of us knew what was going to happen, I think. Finally he said, 'What was it you wanted to show me?' And so I kissed him. I got an erection almost instantly, and I was horribly embarrassed about it. But he had one too. We jerked each other off there on my bed. Neither of us lasted very long. I remember being really surprised that it felt different to be touched by someone else." I stroke Bail's hair again with my free hand, waiting for him to speak.
"So what happened after that?"
"After that?" I wrinkle my nose, unsure what he's asking. "Well, we cleaned up and he left."
"No, I mean... how long was he your boyfriend?"
I laugh at that. "Bail, I've never had a boyfriend before. It was just a fuck. That's all. We still hook up occasionally, whenever we're on planet at the same time, which isn't often."
He stills. "How was it a fuck if it was just a mutual handjob?"
"That is a fuck," I reply. "If you come, it was a fuck. Penetration is just one aspect of sex." I lean down to nuzzle his ear, whispering, "There are many ways to fuck, you know."
"So when was the first time you... had intercourse?"
"When I was fifteen. With an older padawan who was briefly my sparring partner."
"What happened? Did you show off your lightsaber?" Bail snickers.
"Ha ha. Cute. He fucked me in the showers after I kicked his ass across the training salle."
"In the shower, eh? So when was your first time with a woman, then?"
I freeze at that, fear clutching my heart for the first time. It hasn't occurred to me until this moment that he might have a problem with my being slack. Alderaan is one of those planets where people like me are viewed with suspicion, even disgust. I exhale, trying to decide what to say, how to tell him.
Bail has become very quiet. He shifts in my arms, turning to look at me. "I see," he says softly. For a moment he watches my face, as if trying to read me, my emotions. Then he leans forward and kisses me, very softly. I melt into that kiss, relief spreading through me like warm liquid. My heart is pounding, and I realize that I was afraid -- afraid of what he would think of me, afraid that he would be disgusted by me, that he would tell me to get out and never come back. What would I have done? Even the thought of the pain that would have caused rocks me.
I clutch him hard against me, pulling at his clothes. The emotions are too intense to even consider right now, and there's only one way to release them from my system. I push him onto his back on the floor and press his thighs apart with my knees. He wraps his legs around me, pulling our groins together, letting me plunder his mouth with mine. He moans beneath me as I fumble frantically at his waistband, freeing first his cock and then my own. I stroke both of us together with one hand, pressing hard flesh against hard flesh, roughly squeezing. It's too dry, so I break from the kiss long enough to spit in my hand and continue. It doesn't take long for me to find release. I come first, almost biting his tongue as I do. I roll off of him and gather my semen in my hand, using it as a lubricant as I continue stroking him, slowly. His eyes are closed, his face contorted in what is almost a grimace. I speed up slightly.
"No." He catches my hand, covering it with his own and pulling it down in a long slow stroke, then back up again, increasing the pressure slightly as my hand slides over the head. "Slower. Like this."
I comply, immensely pleased that he's telling me what he likes. He hasn't done it before; he's always just let me have my way with him. He continues to give me instructions in the form of a word or two: harder, squeeze, twist, a little faster, stroke right there, more... When he finally comes, he cries out as loudly as I've ever heard him, clutching the antique rug beneath him in handfuls, shuddering until it's finally over.
His eyes are firmly closed, and I use the Force to bring a nearby towel over to clean us both up. His breathing slows, and a strange smile spreads across his face.
"Well?" I ask as he opens his eyes.
"That was quite a fuck," he grins. I laugh, stretching out onto the rug next to him. The fire crackles nearby, and the sound is strangely comforting.
The sky is quite dark as I slip into my quarters. I came home much too late last night and Qui was already awake. I don't want to have to tell Qui where I'm spending my nights just yet. I don't want him to catch me sneaking in like this. He'll think I've been hitting the clubs all night and be concerned that I'm not getting enough sleep; that my training will suffer. And if he asks, I won't lie to him. But I'm not looking forward to explaining that I've been sleeping quite well, thank you -- in the sumptuous bed of my new boyfriend, the junior senator from Alderaan.
I settle into bed for another hour of sleep before the sun rises, strangely, tiredly happy. Every morning I wake up with Bail is better than the last. I love the way his hair is messy and tousled in the morning, the way he kisses me awake with lips fluttering softly over my face. This morning it was a hand on my erection, slowly stroking me. I opened my eyes to see those dark eyes looking down at me, full of humor.
"Do you always wake up hard?" he asked.
"Doesn't everyone?" I mumbled sleepily.
He shook his head, and then disappeared from view. The next thing I felt was his mouth engulfing me, hot and wet, sucking slow strokes up the length of my shaft.
"Oh, Bail, Force..." I just lay there, sprawled across the bed as he carefully pleasured me, marveling at how quickly he's learned just what I like. The way he uses the flat of his tongue to stroke up the underside, the way he flicks the tip lightly across that sensitive spot, the slight suction on the head before engulfing my cock all over again. He never asked me -- did he figure all this out just by watching my reactions? I came quietly, warning him with a touch to his head. He carefully sucked me clean, then lay his head on my stomach, looking up at me. His brown eyes were so dark, so beautiful, and the expression on his face was one of the happiest I've ever seen on him. I stroked his hair, stunned by his beauty, the glow of his honey-brown skin in the dim light, and the emotion I saw in his eyes.
And it was the first time in my life I've ever thought about saying it: I love you. I didn't say it, and it wouldn't even have been true, but it felt like the right thing to say at that moment. It was the perfect time to say it. I've never had a moment like that before.
I sigh as I stare up at the ceiling, undeniably awake. And horny. I toss aside the covers, deciding to take a shower, to meditate, and to get my day started.
The warm water feels good streaming across my body, almost like the light touch of slick hands sliding across my skin. I'm still half-hard from remembering this morning with Bail. I start to take my cock in hand, to stroke myself...
I wonder if Qui is awake yet?
I finish my shower quickly, drying off as fast as I can and heading into his room quietly. My master is still asleep, slightly tangled in the sheets as though he's been sleeping fitfully. The sun is beginning to rise now, and the light in the room is golden, casting a subtle glow on his sleeping features. I creep a little closer and slide the sheet off of his body, gently lowering myself onto the bed. The last time I awakened him like this I wasn't sure how he would react. He certainly seemed to enjoy it, despite the tension that's been hovering between us for the last few weeks.
I watch his face carefully as I bend down to exhale warm breath across his penis. Even flaccid it's impressive -- thick and wrinkled, resting against his balls, surrounded by dark curly hair. I stare for a moment, thinking that I don't see it this way very often.
I exhale again and extend my tongue to flick lightly at the head. The skin is still loose and soft, and feels strangely pleasant under my tongue. I draw his penis into my mouth, suckling lightly, wondering at the flexibility of it in this state, the way it feels in my mouth, against my tongue. And then it's hardening in my mouth, filling me quite quickly. I have to pull back so as not to gag, almost laughing at myself in my haste. Deep-throating is not something I've ever been good at. Qui can do it, though. Perhaps I'll ask him to teach me how sometime.
Qui mumbles something and stirs, and it's a moment before the word he said registers: Xan.
Fuck. Xanatos? He must be dreaming about him, even as I'm... Interesting. I proceed very carefully, trying to be as gentle as I can, licking him just enough to keep him aroused but not enough to wake him up. Maybe he'll say it again.
I've often wondered if Qui and Xan were lovers, though I've never asked. They were unusually close in age for a master and apprentice -- only twelve years apart, I believe. Qui wasn't even thirty when Xan became his padawan. How could it not have been an issue? It's always an issue when species are compatible, and not uncommon for the pair to act on their attraction.
He stirs again, mumbling something I can't make out. He's quite hard now, and it's all I can do not to suck that thick cock with abandon. I know so little about Xanatos -- rumors, really. I'm a bit anxious to meet him this afternoon, to see if some of the more lurid ones are true. T'nell fucked him once on an undercover assignment, and told me he has interesting tastes in bed. Actually, he told me that Xanatos wanted T'nell to tie him up and call him "padawan." I've wondered ever since about that big fight that he and Qui had after his knighting, after which Xanatos left and all but disappeared from view. Was he in love with Qui? As a knight he would have the right to enter a more formal relationship. Did he ask Qui for that, and did Qui refuse him?
I pull away from Qui now, enough to let him settle back into sleep. His legs are parted now, stretched wide, his cock straining upward, beckoning me back. I fetch lube from the stand by his bed and slick my own erection slowly. When I'm certain that he's asleep again, I position myself carefully between his legs. It's an awkward angle, but I manage to line up the head of my cock with his opening. In one movement, I hook his knees over my arms and pull them up, and then I slide into him.
He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "Xan," and moans, eyelids fluttering. I pull out and press in again, slowly, giving him time to wake up and recognize who is fucking him. After a few seconds his eyes are open, startled to see me, but clearly pleased that this isn't just a dream.
I speed up my strokes, leaning down to kiss him. "Morning, Qui," I whisper between kisses.
"Padawan," he pants, closing his eyes again. I've never liked it when he calls me that in bed -- we're supposed to be equals in this. But part of me is wondering which padawan he's thinking of. And what has happened since Xan returned? Are they lovers now? Was Qui with Xanatos last night while I was with Bail? In this very bed?
These thoughts are stunningly arousing, driving me to fuck him harder, harder... he grunts beneath me, gripping my arms tightly. I come quite suddenly, with a sharp gasp, and collapse onto him.
He exhales softly and wraps his arms around me, stroking my back. "Obi-Wan," he whispers. I can feel his erection pressing into my stomach and I sit back, pulling out of him with a slight grimace and moving back down to take him in my mouth once again. He gasps as I suck hard, throwing his head back against the pillow.
"Call me 'Padawan' again," I say when my mouth leaves him on an upstroke.
His head pops up at that. "What?"
"Call me 'Padawan.' I know you want to." I engulf him again, as deeply as I can to the point of gagging. I have no idea why that turns me on at this moment, but for some reason, it does. I need to hear him say it. I want to wonder who he is thinking of, and to not be certain if it's me.
His hand comes down to pet my head. "Yes, Padawan," he whispers. "Just like that. Use your tongue... right there." Then that hand grabs my hair and fists so hard that my eyes sting. He rolls us over with astonishing speed and suddenly I'm beside him, almost pinned beneath him, holding onto his hips as he's fucking my mouth, both hands holding my head still. This is completely out of my control now, and I can only try to breathe and stay relaxed as he thrusts into me.
And he keeps saying it: "Padawan... yes... your mouth... so hot... Padawan..."
It's all I can do not to gag, to just hang on for the ride, to keep my teeth out of the way. Oddly, he's never done this with me before. I've seen him do it with anonymous men in clubs, but he's always been exceedingly gentle with me in bed, in every way -- well, except for those times, but still...
He comes, biting off a word and turning it into a moan, filling my mouth and holding my head in place so that I have to swallow around him. He shudders, breathing hard. He won't release my head, so I suck lightly on his softening cock, trying to swallow it down my throat a bit now that the urgency has passed. I hold him in my mouth, breathing deeply through my nose. I feel like I'm gagged. I feel used.
I love it.
He stirs, trying to move away, but I grasp his hips and hold him there, not wanting that feeling to end quite yet. He's always taken great care to make certain I felt safe and in control during our sexual encounters. He didn't want me to feel like I was being taken advantage of -- after all, he does have a position of authority over me, and will for several years to come. But for a brief moment, I did feel a bit like a debauched padawan, servicing my master. And I liked it. Interesting.
"Obi, please," he groans, pulling his hips away from me and his penis out of my mouth.
I look up at him, grinning. "That was hot. Can we do that again?"
He grimaces. "Maybe tomorrow." He holds his arms open and I climb into them, settling my head on his chest. He holds me, breathing deeply. We drift back to sleep.
I spend an hour meditating on the balcony after noonmeal, focusing on that feeling of being controlled by Qui this morning and trying to discover why I responded to it the way I did. I make little progress, as I'm quite distracted by the seminar I'll be attending this afternoon.
Xanatos. I've been curious about the man for my entire apprenticeship, and the thought of finally meeting him face to face is nothing if not exhilarating. I finally give up on meditation and just relax, listening to the muted sounds of traffic that leak through the balcony's privacy shield, feeling the sunlight on my face.
When I head back in, Qui is sitting at the communications terminal. He turns to me with a smile. "Obi-Wan, I've found a new sparring partner for you, if you don't object."
I shrug. "Why would I object?"
"It's Xanatos."
"Oh." I pause, feeling my heart beat a little faster. "Why me?"
"He's out of practice and needs a partner who will challenge him closer to his level. That's not me, but I thought you would be ideal."
I swallow back a grin, knowing that it would not do to seem overly pleased that Qui thinks I would be a good sparring partner for a knight twelve years my senior. I smile as slightly as I can and nod. "Of course, Master. Shall I set up a schedule with him this afternoon?"
"Yes, I think that's a good idea." He studies the monitor again. "It looks like his schedule is fairly flexible." I nod, shifting my weight from one foot to another. I want desperately to ask him about Xanatos, but it's none of my business.
Qui watches me for a moment and then sighs. "What is it, Padawan?"
I look up and summon my resolve. "Master, if I am to be working so closely with your former padawan, perhaps I should know the nature of your current relationship with him."
Qui blinks, mouth opening slightly. "Obi-Wan, are you...?" He pauses, and looks away for a moment, as if trying to make a decision. He looks back at me. "Xan and I haven't seen each other for more than a decade. We did not part on good terms then, and now we are both making an effort to be friends. That is all." His gaze is almost defiant.
I'm a bit confused, after this morning. I had convinced myself that they were now lovers. Perhaps Qui wishes for that and Xan does not? I nod my head in thanks and drop the subject.
The conference room is full of chattering padawans and knights when I arrive. I scan the room instantly, but do not see anyone who is obviously Xanatos. There are a few people I don't know, but they look vaguely familiar, so I'm sure I've seen them around the Temple. Siri waves at me from across the room and indicates that she's saved me a seat. As I sit next to her, I notice that she's nearly bouncing with excitement.
"You're in a good mood," I note. She nods. "I'm just glad I'm finally going to get to meet my master's famous first padawan."
Siri's eyes widen. "You haven't met him yet?"
"No, of course not." My eyes narrow slightly. "Have you?"
She smiles slyly at me. I grab her arm and pull her close enough to whisper in her ear. "I know that look, Tachi. Don't tell me you fucked him."
She giggles a little and grins even wider. "Keli I and went home with him last Ninthday night. We didn't know who he was until the next morning."
I sit back, shaking my head. Who else do I know that's fucked Xanatos? I've never even met the man and half of my friends have had sex with him?
The door opens and a tall figure sweeps in, robes flowing behind him. The class quiets instantly. The man takes a seat at the head of large table.
The words flood my mind with startling clarity, stunning my brain into silence. Time slows down. The room is quiet.
I don't want to know who you are. I don't want to know your name, or where you come from, or anything about you. I want to take you into the back room and suck on you until you're begging for mercy, and then I want you to fuck me until I bleed. Can you do that for me?
I cannot fucking believe this. He is Xanatos?
Xanatos scans the room quickly, looking at everyone in turn. His eyes linger briefly on Siri, and he smiles at her slightly. She nudges my knee with hers under the table. I clamp down on a sudden urge to kick her.
Maybe he didn't see me.
He finishes appraising the group quietly and leans back in his seat casually. "You have each been chosen to attend this seminar because you have demonstrated an aptitude for this type of work," he begins. "But that does not mean all of you will be suited for it. You may choose to leave at any time, and there will be no consequences. I want you to be here and to work hard because you want to do this, not because someone has told you that you ought to do this." He stands, leaning forward with his hands on the table. "Much of our meeting time will be spent discussing cases. Many of these cases will be from my own experience. I cannot tell you which ones, of course, since that information is classified, but rest assured that the scenarios we will be discussing are quite real. You will work in groups to determine solutions to the scenarios presented in the cases, and then we will discuss them as a group." He pauses, glancing at each of us once again, a small smile tugging at his lips and softening his features noticeably. "There are many theoretical treatises on the nature of this type of work, but most of them are for shit. Feel free to read them in your spare time if you wish. I won't ask you to, as I have personally found them quite useless."
I swallow hard at that, realizing that much of what I've heard of this man's reputation is spot-on. My first impression of him that night in the club -- hard, blunt, unapologetic -- was the right one.
I've fucked Xanatos?
"Let's jump right in, shall we? I will present a case to you, and we'll discuss it today as a group." He crosses his arms across his chest and fixes his eyes on a spot on the table. "A knight has been working undercover for a slaver for several months, trying to infiltrate her operation in order to gather evidence and prepare for a raid by Judicial Special Ops on her organization. This slaver is fond of staging gang rapes of slaves for entertainment purposes -- for clients, for rivals, or just to give her crew a little release. The knight, of course, does not participate, finding various excuses each time it happens. One night at such a gathering, the slaver brings forth a humanoid child, around ten years of age. The knight quietly protests this treatment of a child, and the slaver, thinking to test his loyalty, offers him a choice. He can fuck the child himself there in front of the assembled group, or the child will be gang-raped by the slaver's crew, as usual." Xanatos pauses, glancing around the room at the somber faces of the participants. "What should the knight do?"
The room is silent for a long moment, as everyone thinks. A few questions are asked: about the number of adversaries, the types of weapons present, whether the knight has a lightsaber on him, and so forth. As more and more questions are asked and answered, it becomes clear that the only choice the knight can make is to rape the child. This thought disturbs everyone in the room, even reducing a few padawans to frustrated tears. One person asks if the knight will be allowed to be gentle with the child.
Xanatos's face is hard when he answers. "No. He is expected to hurt the child, to make him scream. Anything less would be unacceptable to the crew."
I snort at that. "Who could maintain an erection under that circumstance? I can't imagine anyone being able to."
Xan narrows his eyes at me. "He could use the Force to do so." The room falls even quieter. "The Force?" I squeak. "That's impossible. And even if it were--"
"It's not impossible," Xan says quietly, watching me carefully.
"And even if it were," I continue, determined to ignore that remark, "Such a use of the Force would clearly violate the Jedi Code."
The room is silent for a moment more and Xan chuckles softly. His eyes meet mine briefly before sweeping the room, making certain that everyone is listening. "One of the first things you will learn to do in this line of work is to completely disregard the Jedi Code. It may serve its purpose here at the Temple, but when you don't have the cloak of the Jedi Order to draw around you, it is a fairly useless doctrine."
I glance around the room and the faces of the other participants, all of whom appear to be as shocked as I am by that statement. But no one says anything. They retreat visibly, bowing down to this maverick's reputation, to his expertise.
I set my jaw. "No, it isn't," I say, feeling my determination and sense of rightness fill me. "Without the Code, there is no Order. The Code is a critical component of our work. We cannot disregard it, no matter the circumstances."
Xan raises an eyebrow at me. "A noble sentiment, Padawan...?"
"Kenobi," I state flatly, not letting his reminder of my rank affect me.
He nods slightly before continuing. "Padawan Kenobi, have you another solution for this scenario that would not violate the Code?"
"The knight should offer himself instead, to be gang-raped in the place of the child."
"But he could be seriously injured, even killed in the process. He would not accomplish his mission in that way. In fact, he may jeopardize it completely, and that would indirectly contribute to the deaths of countless innocent slaves."
I sigh, knowing that he's right about that. "Knight Xanatos, with all due respect, it is not the rape of the child that I truly object to. Under those circumstances it is, unfortunately, for the greater good. However, to employ the Force in that way, with the intention of harming another... that is simply unacceptable. It is fundamentally wrong."
"More so than raping an innocent child?"
I flinch, looking away. I cannot answer that, not with my emotions affecting my judgment. "I don't... May I have some time to think about it?"
"Of course." Xanatos stands. "In fact, I'd like you all to think about it. Your first assignment is to write up this case and make an argument for your position. We will discuss your solutions next week. That is all for today." He dismisses the class with a gesture, and people quietly file out of the room. I stay seated, now questioning my agreement to be this man's sparring partner, questioning my decision to attend this seminar. I don't think I'm going to enjoy this very much. Siri squeezes my arm as she leaves, and a minute later I am alone in the room with Xanatos.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he says, standing and walking around the table towards me. I stand as well, hands folded into the sleeves of my robe, trying to contain the conflicting emotions that I feel at this moment. He is devastatingly attractive, even now. How can I forget the way it felt to be inside him, fucking him intensely, feeling his hard body beneath mine? But at the moment, I cannot separate that from the knowledge that he and I sharply disagree on some fundamental tenets of the philosophy that directs our very lives.
I meet his cool blue gaze with my chin held high. "Xanatos," I say, attempting a smile.
He smiles in return. "It's good to finally meet you, after hearing so much about you."
I frown at that. To meet me? "Well, I suppose this is the first time we've actually exchanged names," I say, quirking an eyebrow at him.
He pauses, his expression clouding. "Have we met?"
To say that I am embarrassed, or shocked, or angry would not be enough. I struggle to clamp down on the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. "Yes," I say through clenched teeth. "We have met. Recently."
He still looks confused. He stares at me for a moment, searching. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I... perhaps you can explain?"
I'm certain that the smirk on my face is quite unbecoming. "Last Ninthday? At Rising? I fucked you." I almost spit the words from my mouth, distasteful and bitter.
His eyes widen then and he inhales sharply. "Oh! Oh, yes, you..." He colors slightly and runs a hand through his dark, slightly wavy hair. The gesture is uncannily like one Bail would make. He smiles a little. "I'm terribly sorry about that. Please don't think... I was pretty wasted, as you could probably tell. I barely remember how I got home."
I smirk at that. "Oh, I know how you got home. You didn't forget you fucked Siri, now did you?"
He looks away at that, exhaling through pursed lips. "Look, Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. The only reason I remember Siri was because she and her boyfriend were still there in the morning, and we had a long talk." I snort at that, looking away, crossing my arms. He makes a frustrated sound. "Look, it was just a fuck. Why does it matter so much?"
I shake my head. He's right, of course. It was just a fuck. A really great fuck that I'll not forget anytime soon. "It doesn't matter," I reply, meeting his gaze squarely. Why am I still standing here? Oh, yes... "Qui-Gon mentioned that you were interested in sparring with me. Is that still the case?"
His eyes widen slightly and he chuckles just a little. "Is that what he said? Well, I'm not opposed to it. Are you free Seventhday, in the afternoon?"
"Yes. I'll reserve a salle for us." I smile as wickedly as I dare. "I hear your lightsaber skills need some improvement."
He doesn't blink, keeping a slight smirk on his face. "I know your lightsaber skills could use some work, Padawan. I remember that much from Ninthday night." With that, he turns and walks out, leaving me gaping at his back.
What the fuck? He didn't even remember my face, but he has the nerve to tell me I'm a bad fuck? I take a deep breath, and then another, gathering up shreds of raw emotion and releasing them into the Force. I hope to hell this room is shielded.
After ten minutes, I'm together enough to leave the room. I stalk back to my quarters, half hoping that Qui will be there and half hoping that he won't. I need to think about this for a while. I need some space. I need to be reassured that I'm not a bad fuck. I need to talk to Bail. I need... fuck.
FIN