BEP ficlet - Obedient
Oct. 31st, 2006 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salixbabylonTitle/Prompt: "Obedient" from the 28-fics-meme (30 actually)
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jasmasson
Author:salixbabylon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 742
Disclaimer: The boys actually belong to George. I'm just making them do naughty things he would never approve of. Probably.
The hum of lightsabers filled the air, setting every molecule in the training room buzzing with static electricity. Every turn Obi-Wan made, every slash, every thrust, every aggressive action he took – his master was there, blocking him. He could neither advance nor retreat; with Qui-Gon's longer reach it seemed impossible that Obi-Wan could ever gain control.
He powered down his 'sabre, signaling a brief halt. "What am I supposed to be learning from this, Master?"
Qui-Gon gave him an inscrutable look. "What do you think you're supposed to be learning?"
Obi-Wan pursed his lips in frustration. "I thought we were working on attacking, since I'm weaker in that than defending."
The corner of his master's mouth twitched. "That is certainly something you could improve upon," he replied neutrally, swinging his 'sabre around to make Obi-Wan take another step back.
"I'm getting frustrated," Obi-Wan grumbled, bringing his own weapon back into play.
Qui-Gon nodded. "I imagine you are." He brought his blade down at Obi-Wan's wrist, causing him to jerk his arm up in an awkward parry. The sleeve of his training tunic was sliced up to the shoulder in one neat move.
On the next clash, Obi-Wan's feet tripped him and Qui-Gon's 'saber caught his other sleeve, ripping it as well. He'd not felt so off-balance since his last growth spurt, and the undercurrent in the Force was clouded by something different than just his frustration at how badly he was performing. Something was going on that he couldn't quite make sense of, and unless his master's goal was to get him so upset that he lost control, he couldn't figure out the point of this exercise.
He tried to channel his anger into the Force, but was distracted when Qui-Gon deftly slashed through his belt and sash, leaving his tunic gaping open, the cloth and leather fluttering to the floor. The scent of burning fabric filled the air, mingling with the smell of their fresh sweat.
Was his master trying to strip him? Of course Qui-Gon would never be so clumsy to do it by accident, but Obi-Wan couldn't for the life of him understand why, unless it was overwhelm him with emotion so that he couldn't fight properly.
Which probably was a good reason, now that he thought of it.
Qui-Gon had him backed into a corner now, and with two light flicks, he sliced through both shoulder seams and the remains of Obi-Wan's tunic fell to the floor. Anger flashed through Obi-Wan, humiliated at having his clothes so skillfully cut off of him. Blood pounded through his body leaving every cell tingling, including the cells of certain body parts in his leggings.
Reaching out to the Force, he jumped up, flipping over his Master – Qui-Gon might have a longer reach, but Obi-Wan was better at acrobatics. However, that was a defensive technique, not aggressive. He took a moment to center himself after landing, trying to think of a strategy for attack.
While he was thinking, Qui-Gon slashed out again, tearing a long gash down the side of Obi-Wan's only remaining garment, ripping a slit from hipbone to knee.
"Master! What are you doing?" he shouted.
Qui-Gon gave him a grin like none Obi-Wan had ever seen before in the seven years they'd been together. Rather than answer, his master thrust his 'saber again, ripping the gash all the way up through the drawstring.
Obi-Wants leggings fell, puddling around one bare foot.
The tension in the room fairly crackled, and finally Obi-Wan realized it was not just his own frustration at being outmatched that was coloring the Force in their small room.
Rather a lot of frustration was coming from his master, too. A different kind of frustration than when Obi-Wan was slow at learning something, one shaded with amusement. But the thing that finally made it all clear was the look of undisguised hunger in Qui-Gon's eyes as he looked at his naked padawan.
Ah. Well. That kind of frustration Obi-Wan would happily do something about.
He powered off his lightsabre, waiting until Qui-Gon did the same, then stepped closer. A few more slow steps brought him close enough to his master to feel his body heat, sense the arousal pounding through him, share it with him.
"Master," Obi-Wan said, lifting one hand up to touch Qui-Gon's cheek, silently urging him down for a kiss. "If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask."
~end~
Pairing: Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon for
jasmassonAuthor:
salixbabylonRating: PG-13
Word Count: 742
Disclaimer: The boys actually belong to George. I'm just making them do naughty things he would never approve of. Probably.
The hum of lightsabers filled the air, setting every molecule in the training room buzzing with static electricity. Every turn Obi-Wan made, every slash, every thrust, every aggressive action he took – his master was there, blocking him. He could neither advance nor retreat; with Qui-Gon's longer reach it seemed impossible that Obi-Wan could ever gain control.
He powered down his 'sabre, signaling a brief halt. "What am I supposed to be learning from this, Master?"
Qui-Gon gave him an inscrutable look. "What do you think you're supposed to be learning?"
Obi-Wan pursed his lips in frustration. "I thought we were working on attacking, since I'm weaker in that than defending."
The corner of his master's mouth twitched. "That is certainly something you could improve upon," he replied neutrally, swinging his 'sabre around to make Obi-Wan take another step back.
"I'm getting frustrated," Obi-Wan grumbled, bringing his own weapon back into play.
Qui-Gon nodded. "I imagine you are." He brought his blade down at Obi-Wan's wrist, causing him to jerk his arm up in an awkward parry. The sleeve of his training tunic was sliced up to the shoulder in one neat move.
On the next clash, Obi-Wan's feet tripped him and Qui-Gon's 'saber caught his other sleeve, ripping it as well. He'd not felt so off-balance since his last growth spurt, and the undercurrent in the Force was clouded by something different than just his frustration at how badly he was performing. Something was going on that he couldn't quite make sense of, and unless his master's goal was to get him so upset that he lost control, he couldn't figure out the point of this exercise.
He tried to channel his anger into the Force, but was distracted when Qui-Gon deftly slashed through his belt and sash, leaving his tunic gaping open, the cloth and leather fluttering to the floor. The scent of burning fabric filled the air, mingling with the smell of their fresh sweat.
Was his master trying to strip him? Of course Qui-Gon would never be so clumsy to do it by accident, but Obi-Wan couldn't for the life of him understand why, unless it was overwhelm him with emotion so that he couldn't fight properly.
Which probably was a good reason, now that he thought of it.
Qui-Gon had him backed into a corner now, and with two light flicks, he sliced through both shoulder seams and the remains of Obi-Wan's tunic fell to the floor. Anger flashed through Obi-Wan, humiliated at having his clothes so skillfully cut off of him. Blood pounded through his body leaving every cell tingling, including the cells of certain body parts in his leggings.
Reaching out to the Force, he jumped up, flipping over his Master – Qui-Gon might have a longer reach, but Obi-Wan was better at acrobatics. However, that was a defensive technique, not aggressive. He took a moment to center himself after landing, trying to think of a strategy for attack.
While he was thinking, Qui-Gon slashed out again, tearing a long gash down the side of Obi-Wan's only remaining garment, ripping a slit from hipbone to knee.
"Master! What are you doing?" he shouted.
Qui-Gon gave him a grin like none Obi-Wan had ever seen before in the seven years they'd been together. Rather than answer, his master thrust his 'saber again, ripping the gash all the way up through the drawstring.
Obi-Wants leggings fell, puddling around one bare foot.
The tension in the room fairly crackled, and finally Obi-Wan realized it was not just his own frustration at being outmatched that was coloring the Force in their small room.
Rather a lot of frustration was coming from his master, too. A different kind of frustration than when Obi-Wan was slow at learning something, one shaded with amusement. But the thing that finally made it all clear was the look of undisguised hunger in Qui-Gon's eyes as he looked at his naked padawan.
Ah. Well. That kind of frustration Obi-Wan would happily do something about.
He powered off his lightsabre, waiting until Qui-Gon did the same, then stepped closer. A few more slow steps brought him close enough to his master to feel his body heat, sense the arousal pounding through him, share it with him.
"Master," Obi-Wan said, lifting one hand up to touch Qui-Gon's cheek, silently urging him down for a kiss. "If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-11-01 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-01 06:20 pm (UTC)Oh. The sex. Well... Qui-Gon's thrown up some pretty strong shields around the training salle. We'll just have to creep up to the window very quietly and peek in...
Three more fics/ficlets underway in the SW universe. We'll see. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-11-03 02:15 pm (UTC)We'll have to get jobs as cooks at the Jedi Temple and slip something into his food...