After a long mission on a disgustingly hot and humid planet, Qui-Gon had promised his padawan a nice private get-away. With so many years experience in being shipped off at the whim of the Council, he should have known better. Their vacation together was not going to happen any time soon. Once again they were squeezed onto a cargo ship and headed toward yet another diplomatic mission. This time though, they were headed to Dae'Hoth, an exceptionally frigid and inhospitable planet. It was the exact opposite of what they had grown accustomed to over the past six weeks.
The Council had destroyed his plans so thoroughly, that Qui-Gon had begun to believe the Force itself was against his union with Obi-Wan. The Force had drawn Master and Padawan together while on Bandomeer so long ago. It now seemed as if all the forces in the known Universe were set against them deepening that bond. He sighed to himself, knowing that it was only his frustration talking.
Obi-Wan had stalked out of their humble quarters not long after their transport had gotten underway. If Qui-Gon was frustrated, then his young and energetic padawan was doubly so. It was an unspoken rule that the physical nature of their relationship not be expressed while they were on a mission. The Jedi projected an image of strength, fairness, and reservation; unseemly appearances were frowned upon by the Council.
There were exceptions to the rule of course. Certain planets were rather uninhibited or very tolerant, but more often than not celibacy was their only recourse. Both their previous and current mission were situations where the physical relationship between them could not be expressed openly.
However, their conduct on the transport to this mission would not be under such close scrutiny. If he could get Obi-Wan worked through his increasingly temperamental mood, they could enjoy a few hours company that was not solely occupied by lessons or mediation.
Picking up his lightsaber, Qui-Gon searched the ship's computer for the cargo hold with the most space available. If he knew his padawan half as well as he thought, Obi-Wan would be trying to work off some of his energy with training drills. The exercises required a high level of concentration, and he was loath to reach for him through the training bond. The contact may not break his student's concentration, but it was likely to upset whatever peace he had already gained.
Being bonded as lovers was sometimes uncomfortable. What would once have been a fleeting mental brush with the Force could now be a distracting invasion of his padawan's privacy. It was a delicate balance that they maintained. He wanted Obi-Wan as receptive to his presence as possible; he did not want to aggravate this situation any further.
It was bad enough that he had led Obi-Wan to believe they would have a break for themselves. He did not want the frustration over dashed expectations to extend into a general distemper throughout the upcoming mission. He wanted to resolve this now and move onto their official duties later. By the Light, having such a spirited apprentice was sometimes so much work.
He reached the cargo bay within minutes and watched his ever-vigilant padawan go through his paces. As expected, Obi-Wan had undertaken one of the more advanced routines. His young charge leaped and vaulted around the area with his lightsaber blazing. The Force was wrapped closely around him and his concentration was exemplary. Qui-Gon doubted that his padawan would have even felt his mind touch given his current level of focus.
Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan complete a precise turn, a quick thrust, then a deft parry to an unseen attack. Obi-Wan jumped back and repeated the series again. Two lightning fast blocks were followed by another leap and somersault. Obi-Wan landed, turned, and dropped down to his knees for another block, then he began a deadly series of attacks.
The Jedi Master could repeat the steps in his head as easily now as when he had learned it himself. He could even join the combat and provide the moves that Obi-Wan was countering with equal precision. He could modify the series and truly test his apprentice’s skills, but now was not the time for that. He settled against the wall and quietly watched Obi-Wan complete the final level.
The drill had two forms: the more conventional version taught to all padawans and the more advanced version that his own student had undertaken. The advanced drill included more of the aerials that Obi-Wan so enjoyed, but it was also much more challenging with their placement. Difficult combination moves coupled with high flips and hard landings were physically taxing on the most physically fit of the Jedi.
These demanding elements were spread throughout the drill, and several of the most difficult were placed in the later stages. It demanded more skill, concentration, and stamina than many of the other apprentices in Obi-Wan's age group possessed. Despite little more than two short decades of training, Obi-Wan had become an excellent fighter. Even as he watched his apprentice grow wearier from the punishing drill, Qui-Gon saw the aerials executed without fault.
Obi-Wan completed the final few moves, bowed to his Master, then collapsed to his knees panting. Qui-Gon was impressed that his apprentice had noticed his quiet approach; he had made no overt moves to reveal his watchful presence. Taking a few more steps into the cargo bay he quietly applauded his padawan's efforts.
"Well, done. Do you feel up to another round or have you sufficiently worked through this mood?" he asked casually.
To an outsider, both the tone and the comment may have seemed gruff, but Obi-Wan had long since accepted Qui-Gon's candid criticism of his behavior. The instances when his Master was wrong were infrequent. When he was wrong, he was usually so far off the mark that it was comic. However, this was not one of those occasions; Obi-Wan knew he had been stalking around in a foul mood for days simply because Jedi life was not living up to his expectations.
"Yes Master. I’m done. I doubt I could last through a full match against you. Perhaps later?" he asked.
His master nodded before motioning for Obi-Wan to follow. "We have things to do before we can focus on the mission. Come," Qui-Gon commanded as he turned and strode from the room.
Obi-Wan gathered up his previously shed cloak and dutifully followed behind his master. The pair walked in silence back to their cabin. Expecting long hours spent meditating on patience or studying the governmental politics of Dae’Hoth, Obi-Wan was not looking forward to the coming lessons.
Once inside, Obi-Wan stowed his gear and headed straight for the fresher. Spending hours covered in dried sweat was not his idea of a pleasant evening. He walked quietly into the bath disguised as a closet to get cleaned up.
Climbing into the fresher, he let the hot spray soothe tired muscles and relax him further. Though his workout had burned almost all traces of his earlier tension away, a few hours alone with his master was likely to recreate the situation. He was actually beginning to think maybe he should take his Master's advice and find something or someone to divert his attention while on these particularly restrictive missions.
Qui-Gon had made the suggestion some time ago, and Obi-Wan had yet to follow through with it. Though they were a committed pair, Obi-Wan’s libido was much more active than was convenient. Qui-Gon would not begrudge his student a casual relationship if it was discrete. The same cultures that would condemn their relationship would be ecstatic if either Jedi choose one of their own as a bed mate for a time.
Obi-Wan was so intent on his own thoughts that he did not realize his master intended to join him in the fresher. It was not until cool hands touched his shoulders that he realized he was not alone. Those strong hands urged him to turn around, and he was quickly showered with kisses. His face, neck, and ears received the same attention before Qui-Gon paused to whisper to him.
"I hope you didn't drain yourself too badly with your workout. I'd hate to have you fall asleep before our preparations are complete."
"Prep... preparations, Master?" Obi-Wan asked in confusion.
"Yes. We cannot knowingly walk into the negotiations with so much distance between us. The Council sends us on these trying missions because they know how well we perform in the face of adversity and hostility. Our preparations for the evening shall be to work through this tension that has been building between us, Padawan." Qui-Gon’s voice was soft and husky. His breath tickled Obi-Wan's exposed ear and added an even more erotic nature to the exchange.
The tension that Obi-Wan had worked so hard to dissipate was back in an instant. Arousal so sharp it hurt, shot though him from no more than a few commanding words and light touches. Hands that were now wrapped around his waist drifted lower to trace teasing caresses along his lower back. Talented fingers caressed him lightly along his spine and across his hips. He moaned quietly and fixed his mouth on Qui-Gon's neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there.
He wanted this so badly, desperately needed whatever Qui-Gon was willing to give. Moments like this were rare; they were so busy with their Jedi duties that they had to snatch away time to be together whenever possible. It felt almost sinful to be spending time together like this, but that added to the experience even more.
One of his lover's hands left his back and moved to where he wanted that touch the most. It caressed his groin tantalizingly as its mate drifted down across his cheeks. Obi-Wan moaned into his master's neck as he lost focus on what his own mouth was doing. Arching himself into that light grip, his breath grew ragged. It had been too long; the tension had built too much over the previous weeks.
He had wrapped his own arms around his master when those hands had begun their sweet torture. Now his hands alternated between convulsive squeezes and rough caresses, a parody of the touch with which his master still teased him.
As the hand at his groin grew more sure and firm in its motion, he made a desperate swipe at the fresher controls. Already being pulled down by sensation, his brain still remembered their first ill-fated encounter. He had no desire to again get a mouthful of shower spray at a critical moment.
Once the jets were off, Qui-Gon roughly pushed him against the durasteel wall. Though warmed by the water, it still chilled Obi-Wan slightly. Before he could even regain any semblance of composure, Qui-Gon had dropped to the floor and another form of wet heat was applied to his erection.
Obi-Wan cried out in pleasure and his breathing became even more ragged as that talented mouth moved. His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to grip the smooth wall behind him to steady himself. Lips teased the head and a quick tongue laved at the tip making him gasp and shudder.
"Mas...ter... Qui... Gon... I can't... too much... please..." he gasped out slowly. He could already feel his orgasm building. Some barely functioning part of his mind wanted to enjoy this moment with his lover, to have both of them building towards completion.
Qui-Gon’s hands braced hips that were beginning to the buck and thrust. He slowly slid his mouth down Obi-Wan’s shaft before pulling back to kiss the tip.
"Relax. There will be time for that later. Let go and enjoy this."
As Qui-Gon resumed his task, Obi-Wan’s mind screamed //Relax?!// before shutting down completely. Instinct took over as the passion and pleasure built even higher. That skillful tongue knew how to lick and suck and caress in all the ways that drove him wild.
While his legs trembled, his body was writhing against the wall and Qui-Gon's restraining grip. He felt one hand move and sneak lower as that maddening mouth relented for a moment. He managed to suck in a few desperately needed gulps of air, before one blunt finger pushed inside his body. He cried out again at the welcome penetration.
The dual assault was merciless as Qui-Gon began tormenting his erection again. Lips sucked the crown, then drifted further down to add more sensation. Desperate, Obi-Wan whimpered with each caress to his prostate as even sharper spikes of pleasure shot through him. The touch became firmer and more insistent when his hands finally left the wall and grabbed his lover's head. With two powerful thrusts into that wanton mouth, he came. His body arched as the spasms overtook him. Within seconds, his knees buckled completely from his devastating orgasm. Qui-Gon caught his spent lover and gently lowered him to the floor of the fresher.
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