![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Time for Qui to do some club hopping. :)
What Can't Be Seen Pt 3
Qui-Gon paused just inside the entrance of the pleasure club known as Tremors, elicting grumbles of irritation from the other patrons trying to enter. He murmurred a hasty apology and stepped in a little further while he surveyed the establishment for his padawan. There, over in a corner and leaning up against a wall was Obi-Wan.
With a half grin Qui-Gon started over, then the crowd parted and he could see the reason his padawan was leaning against a wall instead of just standing. A dark head bobbed in front of his padawan's crotch. Obi-Wan wore a nonchalant expression as if this were an everyday occurance.
Qui-Gon looked around, tucked away in corners were other patrons engaged in similair torrid activities. He didn't see anyone out right fucking another person, but the sheer abundance of blow jobs, hand jobs and bumping and grinding made the lack of intercourse seem just an oversight.
He felt stupid and out of place despite the cycle Mace had spent getting Qui-Gon ready. It took more than just clothes and makeup to fit into a place like this. He smoothed his hands down black leather clad thighs. Mace had assured him that with his height and build, a rough look was the way to go, so he'd picked out a black crew necked top, leather boots and pants for his old friend. "The staples of a tough's wardrobe," Mace had informed him.
The last thing Qui-Gon felt was tough, but at least no one was looking at him as if he had two heads. Well, perhaps one person. Obi-Wan had spotted him across the room. His padawan's mouth dropped in an 'oh' of surprise and he lost his bored expression as he very obviously came in shock. The bobbing head in front of him jerked back at the apparently unexpected flood of semen flooding his mouth. The young man staggered to his feet wiping at his sloppy mouth.
Looking to see if Qui-Gon was still watching, he kissed the other man, taking the time to lick the sticky drops that clung to his lips and chin. Then he lifted his head and grinned challengingly at his Master.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. So that was how it was going to be, was it? From some hidden place deep in the Jedi Master's psyche masculine pride bloomed. He would not let his cheeky padawan get the better of him. He crooked a brow at Obi-Wan, grinned and raised his hand in a 'come here' gesture at one of the club's patrons.
A startled, yet pleased young man with red hair immediately raced to kneel in front of him in what Qui-Gon had to admit, was a satisfyingly submissive pose. Qui-Gon with very little previous sexual experience (there is no passsin, there is only the Force) slipped easily into the role of a dominant and snapped his fingers at the young man indicating that he should rise and attend him.
Maybe it was his years of being a master with a padawan of his own, but it all felt completely natural to him. The only difference being that he hadn't ever commanded a padawan of his to perform sexual favors for him. But, here he was with a few whispered words between him and his chosen partner and Qui-Gon was threading his way through the crowded club towards one of its back room, following the slim figure in front of him.
He didn't look back to see if Obi-Wan was watching, but he dearly wished he could.
If he had, he would have seen Obi-Wan's mouth drop open as he lost his cool for an unprecedented second time that evening.
Qui-Gon would have been pleased.
Qui-Gon paused just inside the entrance of the pleasure club known as Tremors, elicting grumbles of irritation from the other patrons trying to enter. He murmurred a hasty apology and stepped in a little further while he surveyed the establishment for his padawan. There, over in a corner and leaning up against a wall was Obi-Wan.
With a half grin Qui-Gon started over, then the crowd parted and he could see the reason his padawan was leaning against a wall instead of just standing. A dark head bobbed in front of his padawan's crotch. Obi-Wan wore a nonchalant expression as if this were an everyday occurance.
Qui-Gon looked around, tucked away in corners were other patrons engaged in similair torrid activities. He didn't see anyone out right fucking another person, but the sheer abundance of blow jobs, hand jobs and bumping and grinding made the lack of intercourse seem just an oversight.
He felt stupid and out of place despite the cycle Mace had spent getting Qui-Gon ready. It took more than just clothes and makeup to fit into a place like this. He smoothed his hands down black leather clad thighs. Mace had assured him that with his height and build, a rough look was the way to go, so he'd picked out a black crew necked top, leather boots and pants for his old friend. "The staples of a tough's wardrobe," Mace had informed him.
The last thing Qui-Gon felt was tough, but at least no one was looking at him as if he had two heads. Well, perhaps one person. Obi-Wan had spotted him across the room. His padawan's mouth dropped in an 'oh' of surprise and he lost his bored expression as he very obviously came in shock. The bobbing head in front of him jerked back at the apparently unexpected flood of semen flooding his mouth. The young man staggered to his feet wiping at his sloppy mouth.
Looking to see if Qui-Gon was still watching, he kissed the other man, taking the time to lick the sticky drops that clung to his lips and chin. Then he lifted his head and grinned challengingly at his Master.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. So that was how it was going to be, was it? From some hidden place deep in the Jedi Master's psyche masculine pride bloomed. He would not let his cheeky padawan get the better of him. He crooked a brow at Obi-Wan, grinned and raised his hand in a 'come here' gesture at one of the club's patrons.
A startled, yet pleased young man with red hair immediately raced to kneel in front of him in what Qui-Gon had to admit, was a satisfyingly submissive pose. Qui-Gon with very little previous sexual experience (there is no passsin, there is only the Force) slipped easily into the role of a dominant and snapped his fingers at the young man indicating that he should rise and attend him.
Maybe it was his years of being a master with a padawan of his own, but it all felt completely natural to him. The only difference being that he hadn't ever commanded a padawan of his to perform sexual favors for him. But, here he was with a few whispered words between him and his chosen partner and Qui-Gon was threading his way through the crowded club towards one of its back room, following the slim figure in front of him.
He didn't look back to see if Obi-Wan was watching, but he dearly wished he could.
If he had, he would have seen Obi-Wan's mouth drop open as he lost his cool for an unprecedented second time that evening.
Qui-Gon would have been pleased.
