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Number Theory

Author: Emma Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: With Qui-Gon away on a mission, Obi-Wan hits the club scene -- with consequences.
Warnings: Chan
Disclaimer: I don't own Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, or anything remotely Star Wars related. (Well, unless you count a large collection of books, videos, DVDs, and so on...) No harm is intended -- this is only for fun!
Feedback: Please. Of course!

Note: Thanks to Helens for the beta!


"When will you be back?"

"In a week or so. Don't look at me that way, Padawan, please."

"I wouldn't have volunteered to take over Master Liko's class if I'd known we'd be assigned a mission." I poke a spot on the floor with my foot impatiently.

"Not we, just me. Besides, you loved level 10 maths. I know you'll do a wonderful job."

I nod absently. "Yes, of course, Master."

Qui-Gon studies me for a long moment. "Going out tonight, then?"

I shrug. "Perhaps. T'nell left a message, and I won't have anything else to do, with you heading out so soon."

He laughs and ruffles my hair slightly. "Ah, Obi-Wan, I'm sure you'll find someone to occupy your time while I'm away. See me off?"

I follow him down to the landing pad where his transport waits. He smiles and enfolds me in a tight hug for a long moment.

"I'll miss you," he whispers. //More than you know.//

I smile at that and plant a soft kiss on his lips before he turns to go.

Several minutes later, the ship is a glint in the atmosphere and I am achingly alone. What the hell is wrong with me?


"He lives. So, are you coming?"

I snicker. "That's the plan."

"See you then."

So here I am again, leaning against the bar of the gloriously loud and smoky sex club Rising, fourth drink in hand... I'm going to regret this tomorrow, I think. The class I'm teaching doesn't meet until the afternoon, so I can sleep late. I'll have plenty of time to purge the alcohol from my system. At the moment, it's exerting a rather pleasant pressure on my brain.

But it's not enough to keep my mind off of a certain Jedi Master. This place just isn't the same without him somehow. I like watching him on the prowl. I like watching others looking at him with lust. I like watching him dance with his new conquest. I like the commentary he provides when he returns from the back room, smiling wide and smelling of sex, and the way we compare notes on people we've both fucked. T'nell is fun, but it's just not the same.

The song changes and I see T'nell dancing with a few other padawans I recognize. I can't help but smile. We found this place first, and now it's where everyone goes. I never fancied myself a trendsetter, but there it is. I make my way toward them slowly, stopping for a kiss from someone I hooked up with a few weeks ago. He's interested, but I have something else in mind.

T'nell is drunk, which is saying a lot for a Jedi. He looks hot tonight, though. He's wearing that light blue shirt that I love, and it's open, revealing his chest. Those black pants are cut low and tight, showing off an amazing ass. I plaster on my best "fuck me" smile and slide into his arms smoothly, pressing against him in time to the music. He reminds me so much of Qui, the way his body feels, the way his eyes sparkle at me, the way his lips feel pressed against mine...

"Hiya Obi," he slurs, hugging me tight before sliding his hands down to grip my ass, pressing our groins together teasingly.

Oh, yes.

"Having a good time?" I whisper, letting my hands slide down to mirror his.

"Mmm hmmm, yes." He swings me around, planting sweet kisses on my mouth.

Yes, this is what I want right now -- a good shag with a good friend, to fuck that ache right out of my mind. He's smiling down at me, still oblivious to my intentions, so far gone is he. This shouldn't be too hard.

His eyes catch something behind me and widen. "Force, Obi, get a look at that."

I turn to see an incredibly beautiful woman dancing a few meters away. She's stunning -- long red hair, curvy body, tight green outfit that makes it quite clear she's wearing nothing underneath. She turns her head and her green eyes meet T'nell's. Damn. Her "fuck me" look puts mine to shame. I'm pretty good looking, have a fairly large cock, and can suck the paint off a speeder, but I can't compete with tits like that.

I'm not ready to give up quite yet, though. T'nell is already moving past me, and I grasp his arm, smiling roguishly. "Hey -- need any help?"

He turns back to me, grinning, and plants a sloppy kiss on my lips. "Obi, you have never fucked a woman in your life. I doubt you'd even know where to stick your dick." And with that, he turns and walks away.


It's probably just the alcohol, but I feel as though I've been kicked in the stomach. I finally manage to squeak out a "fuck you!" but he's out of earshot. That hurt. Mostly because it's true.

I can only watch as he dances with the woman, sliding his arms around her, whispering in her ear, nuzzling her throat... I was hoping he'd be doing that to me about now. Fuck.

Yes, I've never been with a woman, and I'm embarrassed by that fact. I can't imagine it would be so different, though. I'll bet I could manage pretty well.

T'nell and the gorgeous woman in green are kissing now, and his hands are... I can't watch any more, and I close my eyes. Damn, damn, all I wanted was... Arms wrap around me from behind and a warm body is pressed to my back. Lips fasten to my throat just behind my ear and a hand slides down my torso slowly. Much better.

"Hi," a voice whispers in my ear.

"You're in luck," I say. "I'm available."

"That's good to hear."

Those lips are pushing my anger at T'nell out of my mind. I slide my hands behind me to pull those hips tight against me, noting the hardening shaft pressing into my ass with not a little anticipation. The man behind me moans softly and presses his hips forward a little, grinding his cock into me through layers of clothing. My eyes are still closed when he turns me around and kisses me.

It's one of those kisses that stirs my belly with desire, tongue darting in and out of my mouth, then sucking my tongue in and... oh, I fucking love that... That's it, I'm ready to go, and one of us is about to get fucked. Now.

I pull away from the kiss, plastering on the most seductive smile I can as I finally open my eyes. And lose it just as fast.

The boy standing before me is all too familiar. About my height, short spiky blonde hair, big blue eyes -- and definitely underage. I've had this one already, and I have no intention of making a habit of it.

"What the fuck are you doing here again?"

He grins. "Well, at least you remember me. I must have made an impression."

I wince inwardly at that. Yes, he did make an impression, but for all the wrong reasons. I don't want him to get the wrong idea now.

"I think I've broken enough laws with you already." I quirk an eyebrow upwards, trying to look intimidating.

He pouts, an unbelievably sexy expression on that face, and smiles sweetly at me. "Oh, but I'll bet you'd like to break a few more." With that, one of his hands slips inside the waistband of my pants, and he starts stroking my cock, right there on the dance floor.

Oh, he's good at that... I moan in response, my body and slightly drunk brain working together against my last grains of sensibility. He's smiling strangely at me, big blue eyes sparkling, and he leans in to kiss me again. Then he does this thing with his hand...

"Okay, okay, let's go, you've convinced me." I grab his hand -- the one that's in my pants -- and pull him off the dance floor. We find a spot along the wall of the back room that's unoccupied. He leans against the wall, and in the shadows he looks even younger. His chin is tilted slightly down, and he looks up at me through unbelievably thick lashes. Now that I'm close enough, I can tell that he's got a little smudgy color around his eyes, and his cheeks and lips are flushed. He looks almost feminine, I realize, and I stare at him for a long moment. He licks his lips and smiles slightly, sweetly, daring me to kiss him.

At this moment, all I can think about is how hot he is, and how much I want him.

He must be able to read my mind, for it is this moment that he chooses to speak. "Are you going to fuck me now?"

I snap, slamming his body against the wall and kissing him, ravaging his mouth with mine, pressing his hands into the wall beside his head, immobilizing him. He squirms beneath me, but I don't really care if I'm hurting him. He wanted this, and now he's getting it. I kiss and bite my way down his jaw, and suck on his neck hard enough to leave a mark. I want him to remember this tomorrow. Just like Qui in the shower...

"Fuck, Obi-Wan, yes..."

I pull back in shock. "How the fuck do you know my name?" I never exchange names with anyone here. I have nothing to hide -- I just prefer anonymous sex.

He pales for a second, perhaps thinking that he's made me angry. "I asked around," he says, shrinking against the wall. "Lots of people here seemed to know you, so I asked. I'm sorry. I was just curious." He looks away for a moment. He probably thinks he's ruined the moment, but he hasn't. There's something about his fear and vulnerability that I am finding incredibly erotic.

I glare at him and grasp his jaw in my hand firmly. "Look at me, boy. You have not earned the right to call me by my name."

His eyes widen. "Do you... want to know my name?"

"No," I respond sharply. "I don't give a fuck what your name is." I lean forward and lick slowly up his neck. He moans and his skin flushes under me. "Just a little slut, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," he whispers, shivering as I pull his thin shirt up to reveal his chest.

"Aren't you?" I whisper, then flick one of his nipples with my tongue.

"Yes, yes, ohhh... yes.."

I bite down and he yelps. "What do you want me to do with you?"

"I... I want... oohhh... I want..."

"Tell me, what does a little whore like you want from me?" He is rock hard under his pants, and I begin stroking his cock through them. I unfasten the front and push them down around his ankles quickly, taking his cock in hand. "Well?"

"I want you inside me... please."

"That's what I thought." I push him down to his hands and knees roughly, and position myself behind him. He's shaking a little, which excites me even more. The idea of him being afraid and excited at the same time is unbelievably arousing.

I take a moment to admire his ass, then lean forward to stroke my tongue slowly down the cleft. He sucks in his breath as I near my destination, and makes a startled noise as I circle his entrance with my tongue. It occurs to me that perhaps no one has done this to him before.

"Do you like that?"

"Y-yes, yes, ohhh..." he whispers hoarsely as the tip of my tongue lightly probes him.

"Has anyone ever fucked you like this?" I whisper back. Not waiting for an answer, I press my tongue in as far as it will go, and pull back out, fucking him slowly until my jaw aches from the effort. He's whimpering, shaking... and then he comes quite suddenly, his body convulsing so much that I have to steady his hips with my hands to avoid injury.

He collapses to the floor for a moment, shivering. It's been a while since I've had that effect on someone, and I'm on the verge of coming myself. I take a few deep breaths and will my desire down a little before digging a barrier packet out of my pocket. Strangely enough, I'm still fully clothed. I open my pants just enough to free my erection and roll the barrier on. I pull the kid roughly back up on his hands and knees.

"My turn," I say in warning, before pressing the head of my cock against his opening. He stiffens in response, so I go slowly, letting his body adjust to my presence. When I'm finally filling him completely, I slide one arm around his waist and pull him back with me as I kneel so that he is sitting in my lap, facing away from me. I move that hand down to stroke his cock, which is already showing renewed interest.

Then I start moving within him. Oh, he's tight all right, just as T'nell said. I doubt he's done this very many times, judging from his reactions to it all. So, he's more innocent that he likes people to believe he is.

This feels really good, and I think I've got myself in control enough that I can make it last for a while. I am still taking it slow, and he leans back against me, limp in my arms.

"How does it feel?" I ask him.

"Fucking great," he whispers.

I start moving faster. Needing more leverage, I push him back onto his knees, so that I can grip his hips hard and plunge into him. He starts making strange little sounds, punctuating my thrusts.

"You like this, don't you, you little slut? You like being fucked hard like this, don't you?"

"Yes," he whimpers. "Don't stop...please... ohhh..."

I can't make this last much longer. I feel my orgasm building at the base of my spine. And then, I look up, and see T'nell very close by, fucking the red-haired woman -- now divested of her green outfit -- into the wall. Her legs are around his waist, and he's supporting her ass with his hands while ramming into her.

I wanted that to be me tonight.

I close my eyes against the anger that I feel rising, and then take it out on the body beneath me, pounding into him as hard as I can. He cries out sharply, and for a moment I think I've hurt him -- but, no, he's coming again, and ohhh I can feel it, I can feel his body squeezing my cock in waves...

I shout as I come, expending my energy swiftly, pouring it into the boy writhing beneath me, gasping for breath.

I collapse on top of him for a moment, breathing hard, before carefully pulling out of him and tossing the soiled barrier aside. I raise myself to my hands and knees over his spent form, still trying to catch my breath. He twists beneath me so that he's on his back and pulls me down for a kiss. I let him kiss me for a moment before pulling away.

His eyes shine as he looks up at me. "That was amazing, Ob- uh... it really was." He smiles.

Suddenly, I need to get out of here. The orgasm has sobered me up enough to cast a harsh light on what's happened here. It was hot, and I enjoyed it, but... the way he's looking at me...

I push myself up to a kneeling position and fasten my pants. He watches me, slightly stunned. I stand.

"Thanks, kid," I say flippantly, turning to leave.

"Keli," he says. I stop and turn around. "My name is Keli." He regards me coolly.

"Whatever," I reply, and walk away.

The cab ride home is lonely, and walking through the Temple to empty quarters is lonely, and crawling into my cold bed is lonely.

Fuck. Why did I do that?

The walk to the educational wing of the Temple is one I've made many times, as a teacher and as a student. I know exactly how many minutes it takes me to get from my quarters to the classrooms, and I'm pushing my time limit here. I can't believe I slept so late. I must have had more to drink last night than I realized. I was tempted to let myself suffer from the aftereffects -- after all, I deserve it -- but... well, I do have to teach today.

This is a particularly exciting day, though, since this is the highest level maths course I've ever taught. I've had the opportunity to work with younger students, helping them discover the beauty of numbers, watching their faces break into smiles as they discover algebraic structures for the first time, seeing the glint of astonishment in their eyes when they finally solve a problem they've been working on for weeks.

I take a deep breath and palm open the door to the classroom. It's typical -- four tables, each surrounded by a few comfortable chairs, holographic data stations at the center of each. Data jacks are built into the surface, and students can plug in their data pads to download the information displayed on the front display wall, or to upload their own work for display.

About half of the students are here already, and they smile at me as I enter. It's still early, and they go back to their conversations. I recognize a few of the faces, but not all. These padawans are only a handful of years younger than me, but that's a vast gap in many ways. I busy myself with uploading the problems I'd chosen to the display, revising a few at the last minute. A few more students file in, and the room grows quiet as the start of the hour draws near.

I take my seat at the front of the room and smile at them.

"Good afternoon. I'm Padawan Kenobi and I'll be teaching this course for the remainder of the term. You'll be submitting your assignments to me from here on, so make a note of my mail account number. Do you have any questions?"

They settle in comfortably to their chairs, fiddling with their data pads as I scan their faces.

And my stomach drops considerably as I recognize one of those faces.

You like this, don't you, you little slut? You like being fucked hard like this...

Oh, no, no, no...

Keli, the blonde twink from Rising, is sitting at a table not three meters away with two other boys. Shock leads to denial, which leads quickly to realization and full-blown panic. How did I not know that he was a padawan? How did I miss the slim blonde braid now clearly visible, barely brushing his shoulder...?

I deserve this, I really do.

It is only through years of Jedi training that my expression remains neutral -- but on the inside, I'm reeling. Everything I said and did to him last night floods into my mind all at once in a rush of images. I will them away, but I'm shaken by the effort. The students are now staring at me.

I pull it together as quickly as I can, firmly pushing all of my emotion down, which I know is a bad idea -- but I can't risk releasing it to the Force with a handful of padawans in the room. I take a deep breath. Focus on the task at hand. No time to deal with this now.

"Well, then, let's begin, shall we? I believe that you have been studying the properties of prime numbers. Can anyone tell me what twin primes are?"

"Twin primes are those whose difference is two," Keli states immediately. "Like 3 and 5, or 11 and 13." He smiles at me, expression unreadable.

"Thank you, Padawan...?"

"Briggs. Keli Briggs."

I nod, returning his smile tightly. Why didn't I look more closely at the roster? Maybe I would have been at least a little prepared for this. I have got to get control of myself, and quickly.

"Well, then, let's jump right in, shall we?" I tap my data pad and a problem appears behind me on the display wall. "I'd like you to start by trying to prove this statement: 'The product of twin primes is always one less than a perfect square.' Think about it yourself for a moment, and then share your thoughts with your group. Let me know when you've got it."

The feel of the room changes as fifteen teenagers focus on their data pads. I take the opportunity to center myself as much as I can. This is going to be a fucking long hour. A slight buzz of conversation begins as I walk around the room, listening to conversations and asking questions. I carefully avoid Keli's table for the moment.

I'm still overwhelmed by this turn of events. There are hundreds of padawans at the Temple who could have been in this class. What are the odds that a boy I fucked at a club last night would be here in this room? That he would even be a Jedi? I wouldn't have touched him had I known he was Jedi. Oh, that sounds horrible... Why should I feel any more guilty because he is Jedi? He is still underage, and I knew that last night. It's even more obvious now. I should be feeling guilty about...

Keli raises his hand, and I can't possibly ignore it. I casually work my way across the room and move to stand behind him, focusing on his data pad, on the table -- anywhere but his face. Or the back of his head -- a sight I got quite my fill of last night. Stop. Focus.

"Did you find a proof?"

"Well, yes, but... the proof we've found works for a much stronger statement."

At this, I can't help but smile. I was hoping that someone would discover that fact, and I kneel beside Keli, momentarily forgetting my earlier distress.

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"Well, we noticed that the square in question is that of the average of the primes, and when you work out the algebra, you don't use the fact that the numbers are primes at all. It appears to hold for any pair of integers whose difference is two."

I finally meet his eyes, smiling broadly. "Very good, Keli!"

For a moment, we stare at each other, slightly uncomfortable.

"Thank you," he whispers, and he smiles, lips parted just a bit, eyes wide.

And, Force take me, I blush. Blush. I manage to catch it quickly and will it away, but not soon enough to see the glint of humor in the eyes of the other boys at the table. Keli looks down at his data pad, still smiling, embarrassed himself.

I take a deep breath. Clearly the events of last night haven't remained between the two of us, and I don't know what I can do to retain my dignity at this point. I decide to suck it up as best I can and try not to let it bother me.

I meet Keli's curious gaze firmly. "Well, this is a surprise, I must admit. I wasn't expecting anyone to discover this so quickly." His eyes narrow a bit, catching the double meaning of my words. I smile tightly. "Perhaps you'd like to share with the class?"

He pauses, then plugs his data pad into the jack. "Yes, yes, of course."

The remainder of the class went fairly smoothly, though Keli said nothing more. That concerns me deeply. I have spent years crafting my teaching persona -- soft-spoken, patient, understanding, supportive -- pretty much the polar opposite of the way Keli saw me behave last night in the club. Have I destroyed the student-teacher relationship before it even began?

At the end of the hour, the students chatter happily as they leave, a few stopping to ask me questions or make comments about the material. Keli lags behind, waiting for the room to clear.

The last student leaves, and he approaches me, grinning shyly. "Padawan Kenobi? I suppose it's all right for me to call you by your name?"

He meant it as a joke -- humor to diffuse the tension -- but nothing could be less funny to me at this moment. I sink back against one of the tables, closing my eyes.

"Keli -- Padawan Briggs, please, don't..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose we should talk."

"Yes, I suppose we should." I take a deep breath, collecting my thoughts. What to say first? Sorry I called you a slut and a whore and fucked the Force out of you last night? Sorry that I left you lying on the floor, intentionally treating you callously, wanting you to feel used? Sorry that I used you to get off, not really giving a shit about your feelings, even though I knew you were underage? Sorry for taking my anger out on you by pounding it into your ass so hard that you're probably still sore?

This is not going to be easy.

I open my eyes, and he's watching me. He actually looks older in his Jedi robes, more solid and less waif-like than he appeared in the club. He carries himself like a proper Jedi padawan, and he's standing serenely before me, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, head bowed slightly in a gesture of respect -- which I don't deserve -- waiting for me to speak.

"Padawan, I--"

Just as I have summoned my courage, the curriculum master pops her head in the door. "Ah, Padawan Kenobi, I'm so glad to have found you here! Might I have a word?"

I make a quick decision to continue this discussion later, and I nod at her before turning my attention back to Keli. "Padawan, shall we continue this discussion in my office hours, later today?"

I didn't tell the class when my office hours are. I don't even have an office. But Keli nods, understanding my meaning. He leaves the room quietly, radiating calm. I'm about to fall apart. I barely register the conversation with the curriculum master.

I enter the code into my comlink hesitantly. There is only one person I want to talk to right now, and he's probably busy. But I need--

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Master, sorry to disturb you." I'm actually surprised that he answered. I have no idea exactly where he is at the moment, and had fully expected that I would have to leave him a message. "When might you have a few minutes to speak privately?" The sound of his voice has already calmed me significantly.

"Now, actually. I've just been shown to my accommodations and was going to settle in for the night. What do you wish to talk about?"

Force, where do I begin? I tell him the whole story of the previous evening, sparing no ugly detail, and of my unexpected meeting with Keli in class this afternoon.

Qui sighed heavily. "What do you want me to say, Obi-Wan? Not to worry about this situation? That it will resolve itself on its own? Because it won't."

"No, of course not, I know that. I just... How can I teach him after treating him that way? How can I develop a positive classroom environment when half of the students know that I fucked him and left him on the floor of a club? It's not very conducive to a proper teacher-student relationship, after all. How can I possibly evaluate him fairly? Will he ever believe that I've evaluated him fairly? He's quite bright, but if he earns a high grade, will the students think he earned it in my bed? Will he think that?"

All of my fears and thoughts are gushing out in a stream of words, and I'm not even sure that I'm making sense. Qui-Gon is eerily silent -- so much so that I worry that the comlink connection has been broken.

"Master, say something."

"Obi-Wan," he begins, and pauses. He suddenly sounds quite tired. "Don't you find this the least bit ironic?"

"Ironic?" Oh. Oh. Shit. "Ah, yes, I see what you mean." I sigh and fall back onto the sofa, a slight headache pinching between my eyes.

"Perhaps you understand my perspective a bit more."

I nod, which is strange considering that I know he won't see it. I don't know quite what to say. I have always been the student with him, and until this moment I have not been able to conceive of how problematic our relationship could be for him. But yet...

"Master, with all due respect, I think that my situation with Keli is different from our relationship."

"I'll certainly concede that our situation is much more complicated and dangerous." He sounds a touch irritated now.

"I disagree. You and I have an intimate working relationship. Even if we were not lovers, you would have difficulty evaluating me because of that. Some masters regard their padawans as they would their own children, and surely they have a difficult time being objective. Our situation is no more complicated than theirs."

"Obi-Wan, you are oversimplifying the situation considerably." He sighs heavily and is silent for a moment. "You were seventeen when we first became lovers, barely older than Keli is now. And you and Keli are close enough in age that your indiscretion with him is understandable, even excusable. Imagine if I had been the one, nearly 30 years his senior, to take advantage of his offer? Our first nights together were not so far away from that disturbing image."

He has a point, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. "Master, there's something more that bothers me about the situation. I think that the encounter meant something to Keli, and I'm afraid that he might have a crush on me. I have no idea how I should deal with that."

Qui was silent for a long moment. "The solution is simple," he said quietly. "Tell him that it's over and that he should find a lover his own age."

I hear his message loud and clear, and I can't let it pass. "Qui, there's no relationship here. We hooked up twice in the back room of a sex club." I pause. "This is not like what happened between us."

"I'm tired and have a great deal of work to do tomorrow. I don't wish to argue about it from halfway across the galaxy."

"Of course -- I'm sorry. Thank you for listening, Master. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Obi-Wan. Good night."

I switch the comlink off and decide that a quiet evening of meditation is in order. I no sooner get settled onto my mat when the door chime sounds.

I know who it is, and I am resigned to another difficult conversation. I open the door to see Keli standing there, looking as nervous as I feel. I raise an eyebrow. He smiles.

"I'm having some trouble with those problems on primes in arithmetic progression," he offers. I stand aside and gesture him in.

We sit uncomfortably on the sofa, and it occurs to me that perhaps I should offer him some tea. But I don't, afraid of the intimacy that gesture would imply. I want this to be over with as quickly as possible.

"Padawan Kenobi, I want to apologize for my behavior last night."

To say that I am stunned would be a vast understatement. He is apologizing to me?

"Obi-Wan," I stammer. "Please call me..." I stop and take a deep breath. "I don't understand. What precisely are you apologizing for?"

He exhales, as if centering himself. He is every inch the proper Jedi padawan, so completely different from the persona he projects in the club. Of course, we all pretend that we're someone else there. He is no different. Perhaps he understands that I...

"I should tell you that I've had a crush on you for a while," he begins, carefully studying his hands. "About a year ago, you and your master gave a sparring demonstration in a class I was taking, and you -- you were amazing. I had only liked girls until... you corrected my stance and you were standing behind me, naked to the waist, sweating. You pressed your body against me from behind to move me into position, and I got an erection." He laughs softly, embarrassed.

I'm in awe of his honesty in telling me this. I'm also more flattered than I care to admit. I've worked with younger padawans dozens of times in such close contact, and have had older padawans and masters correct me in such a physical manner thousands of times. I don't remember ever responding that way to anyone but Qui-Gon.

"I first went to Rising a few months ago with some friends. I was a little surprised to see you there, but thrilled too, you know? I watched you with other guys a few times, wishing that it was me. I sort of obsessed over you, really. My friends gave me a lot of shit when we found out that you were going to be teaching our class."

My apprehension at that statement must have been obvious. "Listen, I haven't told anyone about last night. They know about the time I sucked you off, but that was a month ago, when you were just an older padawan to us, not our teacher." He takes another deep breath and raises his chin to look me firmly in the eye. "The reason that I am apologizing to you now is that it was very inappropriate for me to approach you last night. I knew that you were going to be our teacher. I'd had a lot to drink, and you... well, you looked so good. I just threw myself at you, even though I knew it would make you uncomfortable the next day, and I was pretty sure you didn't know who I was. That was incredibly inappropriate behavior, and I apologize for it."

He bows his head slightly in a gesture of respect, waiting for my response. I have none, frankly. We are both silent for a long moment.

"Apology accepted," I say, finally, "on one condition."

His head pops up at that. "What?"

"Allow me to apologize to you for the way that I treated you. I'm not really that cruel, I just..."

"I know," he smiles. "It was just a role. I actually enjoyed it quite a lot." The smile becomes a grin. "This is highly inappropriate considering that you are my teacher now, but I have to tell you that last night, with you... that was the most amazing sexual experience of my life."

I smile at that. "At your age, I would certainly hope so!"

He grins back, almost laughs. I find myself staring at his braid, the symbol of his identity that I somehow missed. Noting my gaze, he twirls it quickly around his finger, coiling it effortlessly, and tucks it behind his ear. "Easy to hide," he says. I don't want to draw the wrong kind of attention to myself." I nod, understanding. Had I been going out to bars at that age, I probably would have done the same thing.

He stands to leave, straightening his cloak. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I hope that sometime, when you're not my teacher, we might be able to... get together again. In the meantime, I'm sure I'll learn a lot about prime numbers from you."

A prime number, indeed.

I walk him to the door, now realizing that things are not at all what they seemed, and that everything might not be so fucked up after all.

"Keli, one more question."

He turns in the doorway.

"How did you get into Rising? Coruscant IDs are incredibly difficult to fake. I should know."

He smiles at me quizzically. "I sucked off the doorman a few times." He shrugs, as if this is something that ought to have been obvious. Then he winks and walks away.

I watch him disappear around the corner, wondering if I was so mature at that age. I suspect not. I close the door and head back to my meditation mat. I have a long night ahead of me.


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