Bant was looking insufferably pleased. As Padawans typically sat around moaning about unreasonable, insufferable Masters and the all around rotten state of their existence, this not only aroused an air of envy among her peers, it made them very, very curious.

As her best friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi was assigned to the task of finding out what was making her so happy. And if at all possible, to wipe that smirk off her face. It really was most annoying. In fact, if Obi-Wan hadn't known better, he would have sworn the girl was practically glowing.

"Hello, Bant," he said when he finally caught up with her at lunch.

"Oh, hello, Obi-Wan," she answered, her voice a near purr.

As this reminded him all too well of the last swamp kitten his Master had saved from a horrible death -- all at the expense of his long-suffering Padawan's sanity and skin -- he found it a highly irritating sound. Wanting an end to it, he demanded, "What are you so happy about?"

"Sex education."

He looked at her as if she'd grown another head. As did several other Padawan's at the table. But he also noticed that a few others gave her a knowing smile. This made no sense as Sex Ed was one of the most boring classes the Temple forced upon an unsuspecting Initiate. Before Obi-Wan and his crechemates had reached puberty, they had learned all about the mating habits of every known intelligent life form in the galaxy and the cross-references. In detail. With illustrations. The lecture on a Wookiee coupling with a Toydarian was enough to put Obi-Wan off the notion of sex for the rest of his life.

Obviously, there was more going on here than met the eye. "What about it? We finished that class years ago."

"There's more to life than books, Obi-Wan."

"What does that mean?"

The smugness of her smile increased 10-fold. "You'll have to find that out for yourself."

He had distinctly unJedi-like thoughts about the next time they sparred together, but before he could question her further, she excused herself and wandered out of the dining hall. Annoyed, but determined, he decided to do what he always did when he needed information -- ask his Master.

"There is more to life than books, Padawan."

Sensing a repetition of theme, Obi-Wan frowned. Had he fallen down and hit his head? A concussion would be a handy explanation for all the weirdness going on, but he could not remember sustaining such an injury. Of course, that might be proof that he had. Deciding pursuing this line of thought would only lead to a headache, he fixed Qui-Gon with his most adoring, 'you are so wise and wonderful, Master' look and asked, "What does that mean?"

Unfortunately, Qui-Gon hadn't fallen for that look in years and his answer wasn't any more helpful than Bant's. "That is for you to discover, my Padawan."

Having failed miserably with his best friend and with his Master, Obi-Wan opted to go straight to the top. He stalked from the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon, up two levels, then to yet another non-descript door. He touched the chime, then stepped inside when the door slid open.

Yoda did something that might have been a smile on a less crabby face. "Speak with me you wish?"

Obi-Wan nodded. Many Padawans and Initiates were intimidated by the 900 year-old plus Jedi Master, but Yoda had been one of the principle teachers of Obi-Wan's creche. Beyond that, he was his Master's Master, and Obi-Wan had heard Qui-Gon ranting and raving about the irritating, insufferable, little, green, pointy-eared ... Master on far too many occasions to be in awe of him. Respect, yes; awe, no.

"Yes," he said. "I want to know what my Master isn't telling me."

A look settled on Yoda's face which told Obi-Wan the all-wise ... Master of his Master knew exactly what he was talking about, but would be equally uninformative. He was already fuming when Yoda said, "Help specifics would."

Sarcasm never did any good with Yoda. Depending on his mood, he either ignored it or wapped a person in the shin with his walking stick. Obi-Wan wasn't in the mood for either, so he resigned himself to frustration and relayed his conversations with both Bant and Qui-Gon.

Yoda gave a wise nod. "Ask you must."

"I did ask."

"Answer you seek only with the right question will it come."

Oh, that was helpful. He thanked Master Yoda, then took his leave. He would have sworn he could hear the rotten ... Master of his Master snickering as the door closed behind him.

Stymied at every turn, Obi-Wan resigned himself to doing what every Jedi in pursuit of the mysteries of life was supposed to do -- he meditated on the problem. He would have rather singed Bant's tunic in lightsaber practice, but the tiny reasonable part of his brain suggested it would not really help. He muttered back that it would probably be most satisfying, then turned his attention to the meditation.

This had to do with sex education, asking questions, but getting answers only when the right question was asked. Sith, this was annoying! He hated not knowing!

Sex. He knew all about it. In excruciatingly boring detail. He'd had the usual dreams and was all too familiar with his right hand. Of course, he supposed he should have imagined it was Qui-Gon's hand. They'd soul-bonded the day they'd met, which meant Qui-Gon was the person he was going to spend all eternity with. Reading on the subject had confirmed this did mean Qui-Gon was also the only person he'd have sex with.

But Qui-Gon was very ... tall.

Yoda might not intimidate Obi-Wan, but in an odd way, his bondmate did. Qui-Gon was not only very tall, but strong, wise, experienced, handsome and extremely male. Obi-Wan was male. He supposed one out of five wasn't dismal, but it hardly made for a desirable lover. Which made him extremely insecure, and. ...

Obi-Wan sighed, and pulled his focus back to the matter at hand. Sex. The right question. Bant had said 'sex education.' That meant a teacher, but she'd not been dating anyone, and a Padawan's teacher was normally his/her/its Master. ... Oh.

No, it couldn't be. He went back over the facts a few times. Sex education. Master. Question. The Right Question. Hmm. Maybe it could be.

All right, time to experiment.

Obi-Wan got up, left his bedroom and walked into the common room. Qui-Gon was sitting on the sofa reading something on his datapad.

Summoning up his courage, he walked over to the ... very tall man and waited.

Qui-Gon looked up after a moment. "Is there something I can do for you, Obi-Wan?"

Force, take him immediately if he were wrong. "Yes, Master. I was wondering if you would kiss me."

"Of course, Obi-Wan." The kiss was pleasant enough, but his forehead wasn't exactly the location he'd had in mind.

The right question. "Thank you, Master, but would you kiss me on the mouth as a lover would?"

This time the results were much more gratifying. Warm lips pressed to his, and when the pressure made his mouth open, a tongue snaked inside to caress his own. A part of him wanted to lose himself in the sensation. Another wanted to run screaming from the room. His brain hadn't managed to make a decision by the time the kiss ended.

"Was there anything else you wanted, Padawan?"

"No, Master, not right now," he said, feeling like a complete fool and uncertain whether he should be relieved or insulted that no trace of passion clung to Qui-Gon. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go see if Bant would like to do some lightsaber drills."

"Of course, Obi-Wan. I'll see you at dinner."

He was halfway to the lift before it dawned on him that he'd left his lightsaber in their quarters.

Obi-Wan threw himself down on Bant's bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"So you figured it out?"

"I think so. A Master's duties include teaching a Padawan about sex, but the Padawan has to request the lessons."

"Uh huh. So why haven't you locked the doors and pounced on your Master?"

"Is that what you did?"

"Yes. Most enjoyable lessons I've ever had." He could hear the smug satisfaction in her voice, but he kept his gaze on the ceiling. "Which brings me back to my question, why aren't you off enjoying yours?"

He chose to answer her with a question. "What are you going to do with those lessons?"

She snorted. "What do you think I'm going to do with them?"

"Have more interesting dates when the urge strikes you."

"Yes, that's the point of them."

"And that's my problem."

"Obi-Wan, you're giving me a headache."

He sighed. "Why do you need lessons before having sex on a date?"

"So my lover won't think I'm an awkward, idiot." A Jedi was grace and control, even when seeking pleasure. It would offend any of their kind to be clumsy and ignorant of anything but raw knowledge.

"And you learned how to not be an awkward idiot with a lover from your Master."

"Yes. That's who a Padawan is supposed to learn from."

"My Master is my lover." Or would be.

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh.' It's almost funny to think about it. I'm supposed to learn how to please a lover from my Master, but my Master is my lover so I will displease him." Obi-Wan really, really wished he'd never asked Bant why she'd looked so happy this morning.

"Umm, maybe you could ask for lessons from another Master?"

"I don't want anyone to touch me besides him. That's where the 'mate' part of 'bondmate' comes from."

"Oh."

Again with the 'oh.' "You're not helping."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, this is all my fault."

Huh? Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it. He'd felt like he was five steps behind every conversation he'd gotten into today. "What are you talking about?"

"I teased you even though I know you can't resist figuring out a puzzle. So you've found out before you were ready to know."

"Oh." He mulled this over for a few moments. It made sense. A part of him had always known who taught a Padawan about sex. It was a Master's duty to teach all an apprentice would need to know. If something wasn't being covered a Padawan wanted to learn, then it need only be requested. Yes, he'd known, but he hadn't wanted to because his own situation was so complicated. "What you're saying is that I need more time?"

She nodded and brightened. "Right. Just because you know you can doesn't mean you have to ask."

"Then I'll wait."

They exchanged pleased looks, then Bant said, "Obi-Wan?"

"What?"

"There is something I've sort of been wondering."

"And that is?"

"Well, a Padawan learns how to have sex from a Master." She paused, glanced around the room with the drama of someone checking for unseen listeners, then continued. "Who taught your Master?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "His Mast–" He clamped his jaw shut to stop that notion from spilling out. Considered it again, got the mental picture despite his best efforts to block it, then stared at Bant. She returned his gaze with a false air of wide-eyed innocence.

They erupted into a fit of giggles, managed to stop, then looked at each other and both repeated the wisdom of one Master Yoda, "Size matters not!"

Laughing so hard his sides ached, Obi-Wan fell off the bed.

Obi-Wan found a measure of peace in stalling. No need to have The Conversation, after all, until he'd worked up his courage to live with the results. For two weeks he did nothing. But it wasn't making him feel any better, and he wanted another one of those kisses. Maybe if he got them both accustomed to being together, his ineptness wouldn't be as obvious. Deciding that was better than no plan at all, he followed his Master to his bedroom when it was time to turn in.

"Did you need something, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked as he removed his tunic.

"Yes, Master. May I sleep in your bed?"

An eyebrow arched, something that made Obi-Wan's toes curl. Graceful, elegant, the epitome of a Jedi. Sometimes Obi-Wan felt like their bond was some dreadful joke the universe had decided to play on Qui-Gon. "Whenever you like. Do you want me to put on some sleeping pants?"

While they often slept fully dressed on missions, they both had a tendency to sleep in the nude on Coruscant. Obi-Wan shook his head. He wanted to see what was his even if he hadn't decided when to claim it.

Qui-Gon finished undressing, making no obvious effort to hide or display his body. Obi-Wan found the view inspiring, but more than a little intimidating. The man was ... very tall. Everywhere. And he knew where one particular piece of everywhere was supposed to fit. It didn't seem possible and the relevant muscles clinched in rejection at the thought. Then again, Qui-Gon getting lessons from Yoda didn't seem possible either, but it was part of the Code, so he knew it must have happened.

He had to choke back a slight giggle -- picturing his Master with his Master helped keep him from reacting to things like a blushing Initiate. It allowed him to remember that sex was many things, but dignified probably wasn't one of them.

Qui-Gon glanced at him. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head.

"You would tell me if there was?

He nodded.

Removing the tie from his hair, Qui-Gon turned to pick up his brush. The instant his back was turned, Obi-Wan made his move. He stripped off his clothes, tossed them out of the way, dove into the big bed, then pulled the covers securely around his scrawny body.

It didn't seem fair somehow. He got all that beauty, and Qui-Gon would have to make do with him. Adolescence was such a lousy deal -- raging hormones and raw-boned ugliness.

"I think you are lovely, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, setting down the brush. "And I will thank you not to think such unflattering thoughts about my bondmate."

Obi-Wan made a face. He'd managed to keep thoughts like that out of their bond -- or at least he thought he had -- until now. "I look like a –"

"Stop that." Qui-Gon got into the bed, turned out the light, then reached for him.

Not hesitating a moment, Obi-Wan scrambled into the offered embrace. It was, after all, his favorite place to be, and he'd let himself be damned to the seven hells of Sith before he'd let this crummy sex stuff ruin that. He'd snuggled up close before he remembered the nudity thing.

He stiffened and started to pull back, but Qui-Gon held him in place, kissed the top of his head. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen. Nothing."

The man never lied to him. He evaded, maneuvered, misdirected and ran, but he never lied. Obi-Wan relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy being held. "It doesn't seem fair to you."

Lips brushed his forehead. "I'm fine."

Obi-Wan found he liked the sensation of skin against skin and had to fight the urge not to wiggle. That would lead somewhere he didn't want to go. Yet.

They slept together every night after that. Obi-Wan quickly came to long for the nights and dread the mornings. He'd been more then ready for long cuddling sessions, but when he woke up he always found himself aroused and Qui-Gon as limp as a Rigelian worm. If nothing else, it made Obi-Wan an early riser.

He made a point of being up, showered and dressed by the time his uninterested bondmate woke up. Trouble was, those morning erections where getting harder, with the dreams leading to them shifting from vague images to focus on Qui-Gon touching him.

Sith! Five weeks after Bant had started him on this journey, he found he wanted to ask for his lessons. Qui-Gon would obviously prefer it if he did not. Once again it all came down to the problem that his Master was to be his lover.

An uninterested Master could use the Force to enhance his/her/its arousal enough to teach, but Obi-Wan did not want his bondmate using tricks to make love to him.

He sighed and resigned himself to waiting until the day when Qui-Gon thought him 'lovely' in a sexual way. He would have taken more comfort from that had he not feared such a day was the stuff of myths.

Another three weeks slipped by and he spent a lot of time glowering at himself in mirrors and working to encourage what muscle definition he had. All this did was depress him and make his muscles ache.

"If you don't stop pushing so hard, you are going to hurt yourself," Qui-Gon said, his big hands slowly massaging the soreness out of Obi-Wan's right leg.

Oh, no, here it comes. The list of reasons why Obi-Wan must cease and desist some activity, followed by the order to do so. Not only did he hate being told what he could and could not do, he utterly despised the fact that his Master was usually right. 'Usually' because this time he was wrong. "I'm not going to stop," he said as Qui-Gon started to work on his other leg.

The eyebrow arched, and Obi-Wan flushed as his groin stirred. "You would disobey an order, Padawan?"

"Until I come up with a better plan to deal with the problem, yes." He flinched as strong fingers dug into muscle, then sighed in bliss as the tightness eased. A pity defiance would probably mean an end to the massages.

"I see. And what problem is this?"

"That I look like a scrawny –"

"Padawan! I told you that wasn't true," Qui-Gon's tone was stern, making it clear once more that he really did not like it when Obi-Wan insulted himself. "Your body is strong and graceful. It is merely growing. Half your crechemates look at you with longing."

As if he cared. "But you do not."

"What?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to tell him, but the whole thing sounded so pathetic. Knowing that made it impossible to give it voice. He'd only been fooling himself. Even when the rest of him caught up with his height, he'd remain far from Qui-Gon's idea of beauty.

He flopped back onto the bed, miserable, but finally able to accept the inevitable. Although extremely rare, sometimes a soul-bond did not extend to a physical relationship. Just his luck to find himself in the middle of one. "I think I should go back to sleeping in my own bed."

"If you wish."

Not much he could figure out from that oh, so neutral tone. "And I think you should. ..." He swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. He didn't want this, but he loved Qui-Gon, wanted him to be happy. "You should start seeing Master Windu again."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I'm not stupid, Master. I've known for years that he was your lover before I came along and let this miserable bond ruin things for you."

A large hand seized his chin, forcing him to look into dark blue eyes simmering with outrage. "Our bond does not belong in the same sentence with the word 'miserable.' Nor did it ruin anything. I did love Mace once. But your are my heart, Obi-Wan."

"I know. I'm sorry. But you shouldn't have to be celibate for the rest of your life because of me."

A genuinely perplexed look crossed Qui-Gon's face. His gaze shifted to Obi-Wan's groin and the beginnings of an erection caused by his Master's touch. "Why would I be celibate for the rest of my life?"

"You don't want me. I'll never be as tall and beautiful as you or Windu."

"Obi-Wan, have you lost your mind? You're my bondmate. I not only want you, I crave you."

Carefully, he nudged his knee against his Master's flaccid penis. "Obviously."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "You impossible brat, I ... turned it off."

"You what?"

He sighed. "Jedi Master or not, I'm only human. When you got old enough to start leaking mating pheromones, I blocked off the part of my brain that let's me respond. I told you, Obi-Wan. Nothing will happen until you are ready."

"You turned it off."

"I would hardly be sane after weeks of your nubile body squirming against me if I hadn't." There was a distinct dryness to the man's voice.

Nubile. He liked the sound of that. "But you can turn it back on?"

"Easily."

"Then I have a problem."

Again with the eyebrow. Oh, for a lesson in pouncing. "And what is that, my Obi-Wan?"

"I wish to ask my Master to teach me how to have sex so I will not seem like a clumsy fool with my lover. But my lover is my Master."

"Then I would say your Master is twice blessed, and you should ask him for your due as both a Padawan and a bondmate." Love shown in Qui-Gon's eyes and flooded their bond. It would be all right. It would really be all right.

He reached up and caressed Qui-Gon's cheek. "I love you. Show me how to make love with you."

Qui-Gon's smile seemed to light up the room. "My Obi-Wan, all you ever had to do was ask."

Obi-Wan scowled. "I will do something most unpleasant to the next person who says that to me." He made a mental note to work on his menacing glare when Qui-Gon laughed. "Really, Master, the last few week have been very trying."

That demand for sympathy earned him a kiss, but only a brief one. "That is your own doing, Padawan. Had you spoken to me of your fears or not hidden them from our bond, I could have eased your mind long ago."

"I hate it when you're right."

"I can't recall ever being too fond of it when my Master was right, either."

That image popped into his mind again, and yet again Obi-Wan had to fight back a giggle.

"Something amuses you?"

It was damned inconvenient having a Master who wouldn't lie to him. It gave Obi-Wan a most annoying standard to live up to. On the other hand, he'd learned the art of evasion well. "My mind is wandering. Perhaps lessons would help?"

"A moment more."

"A moment more for what?"

"To fill my senses with you. You have the most beautiful eyes, Obi-Wan." He leaned over and kissed each eyelid. "A strong nose." Another kiss on the tip. "I love this." His tongue caressed the cleft of Obi-Wan's chin. "Ah, and your mouth. That is a sweet invitation indeed."

Gentle pressure that deepened, lips parted and tongue probed, caressed. Obi-Wan made small appreciative noises in the back of his throat, his hands reaching up to clasp the broad shoulders.

Qui-Gon did not resist the tug, his body covering Obi-Wan's in a warm blanket of handsome Jedi. The kiss stopped, then his Master pressed his face to Obi-Wan's neck and drew in a deep breath. "The scent of you is enough to drive a man insane."

Two more breaths and suddenly something very hard and very ... tall pushed against Obi-Wan's leg. It both terrified and inflamed him. "Will it fit?" he asked, knowing it was a stupid question. He had taken the class, but. ...

"Yes." Lips nuzzled his throat. "But only if you want it to."

Want it to? It might scare him to death, but he'd been picturing that in his mind since the stupid class. "I think you need to prove that it will fit, my Qui-Gon."

"Do not rush the demonstration," Qui-Gon chided him. Which was fine, since he muttered it around nibbling on Obi-Wan's earlobe.

"Demonstration?" It sounded more like a groan than a word, and he found that his hands had a mind of their own, boldly moving to tug at the tunic that kept them from the smooth muscle beneath.

"All good lessons begin with a demonstration of the desired result," Qui-Gon answered, shifting up enough to help Obi-Wan strip off his tunic. Then he got rid of the rest of his clothes and stripped his Padawan as well. "My Master taught me that."

"What else?"

"Mmm, many things. Like this." The lips got back to work, caressing his collar bone. "And this." Fingers toyed with his nipples, gently urging them to hard peaks. "And this." He shifted downward, his tongue snaking out to toy with Obi-Wan's navel.

Obi-Wan didn't know whether he should scream or laugh. He settled on a moan.

"Then there is one of my favorite lessons." The head bent, swooping downward.

A scream. Definitely worth a scream. Moist heat enveloped his cock. Qui-Gon sucked twice, then drank greedily when Obi-Wan exploded into his mouth.

Panting, he clung to his bondmate's torso. His heart pounded with a rhythm stronger than anything his right hand had ever managed. He felt wonderful, and completely ashamed at his lack of control. He'd come too soon and ruined everything. When he could manage speech, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Master, I–"

A kiss heavy with his own taste silenced him. "Eager youth is. First time relaxes, always more to come."

The Yoda imitation amused him as it always did, the words soothing him, but Qui-Gon did nothing beyond shifting up onto one elbow so he could study Obi-Wan's face.

"Master?"

"Hush, all is well."

Puzzled, he opted to hush. Then he felt it. A tingling between his buttocks, a soothing yet arousing sensation of touch and energy. He squirmed, trying to increase the feeling. The Force tendril obliged him, increasing in strength, then a sliver of it slipped inside him.

Gasping, Obi-Wan arched upward, his groin pressing against Qui-Gon's stomach, his cock swiftly hardening once more.

"You are certain about this, Obi-Wan? There are many ways to make love. This one can wait."

His grasp on Qui-Gon's shoulders increased, and he tried to grind himself down on the invasion, but, of course, that didn't help. "More," he begged. "I need more." His skin seemed to crackle with energy, his body writhing, seeking.

Qui-Gon's physical touch joined the Living Force's dance over Obi-Wan's body, and he found himself weeping from the intense pleasure. And all the while the energy probe pushed deeper, wider.

Lips claimed his, then Qui-Gon was inside him, riding the ripples of Force that kept pain at bay and heightened pleasure. At last. Oh, Force, at last they were joined.

//One heart, one body, my Obi-Wan.//

//One soul, one life, my Qui-Gon.//

They moved together in a celebration of their oneness, each lost to anything but the pleasure radiating from the other. Obi-Wan knew if he died in that moment he would have passed into the Force without regret, yet his body fairly exploded with a more carnal release, and he all but passed out.

Qui-Gon quickly followed, managing to shift a little so his collapsing body did not crush down onto Obi-Wan's.

Long minutes passed in silence, the two of them content to recover and touch. Obi-Wan finally spoke, "I will learn to do that, Master. I promise. I will make you happy."

"You have always made my life a delight, Obi-Wan. I will teach you of pleasure, but never doubt that you have always been my teacher in matters of love."

His heart threatened to burst, "My soul."

"My heart, now let an old man sleep."

Obi-Wan did not protest, merely snuggled closer, then watched over his bondmate as he slept.

end

Home