FIC: What Can't Be Seen Pt 1

[blucola]

qui_gonmuse has shown his gratitude for his new journal by giving me this little plot bunny. Obi-WanMuse apparently has stopped sulking for the time being and agreed to his part in this, an unabashed Obi!Top fic.


Title: What Can't Be Seen
Author: Lorraine
Pairing: Q/O, O/Other
Rating: NC-17 (was there any doubt?)
Archive: Here for now
Summary: Qui-Gon has closed himself off for so long he doesn't know how to tell Obi-Wan how he really feels. Trite, overly used plot device but I wanted a whore fic, even if I had to write it. *eg*


The path a Jedi walks can be a lonely one. Attachment to any one individual is discouraged, except for that all important master/padawan bond. For many years Master Qui-Gon had walked his path as a Jedi alone, following the unfortunate loss of his padawan Xanatos to the Dark Side.

He hadn't wanted to take on another padawan until he met Obi-Wan Kenobi and even then, he'd resisted the will of the Force with a vengeance. In the end, he had a padawan he'd originally not wanted and the beginnings of an emotional attachment.

Fast forward ten years. Obi-Wan has now fulfilled all the requirements of a senior padawan and is close to taking his trials. He has been both a source of joy and of anguish to his master, of these things, he is unaware.

*****

Obi-Wan hustled around his room, he was due to meet Bant in half a cycle and he still wasn't ready. He was glad to throw off his Jedi robes and dress for a night of debauchery. It had been too long, as far as he was concerned. He'd just returned from a mission with his master and there certainly wasn't any debauchery to be found when Qui-Gon Jinn was around. One stern look from his Master's eyes sent any prospective fuck scurrying back to where-ever he'd come.

Obi-Wan was horny, he needed to fuck somebody or be fucked. Now. Tonight. He looked into the mirror in his quarters. His eyes were outlined in black, a look he knew quite well his master despised. He was poured into a pair of black pants so tight you could see on what side he dressed. He wore a semi-translucent shirt of burgundy silk. He looked expensive and available. He grinned at himself in the mirror, adjusted the padawan braid over his shoulder, then looked at chrono and cursed.
Bant was going to kill him.

He rushed out of their shared quarters with barely a goodnight to his master who watched him leave with a wistful look on his face. Obi-Wan was oblivious to these looks and why shouldn't he be? His master had never given him any indication of the source of his disapproval. As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, his master was a prude, something he would never voice out loud, but which he believed in his heart.

But what did all that matter? He had a town to paint red and a youthful body full of hormones. He was attractive and when he snapped his fingers, men fawned all over him. Life was good.