Author: Fuchsia Groan
Title: Xanatossoff
Rating: R

Summary: Qui-Gon investigates problems with his padawan's training.

Warnings: Underage alert! Xanatos is 15. Somewhat silly and un-beta'd. There! You have been warned!
Pairing: X/himself, suggestions of Q/X
Archive: Well,sites that archives underage stuff: Broken Circle, XaniEB(?), Obi-Chan...
Disclaimer: Xanatos belongs to Jude Watson and Dave Wolverton, Qui-Gon belongs to the Force (and George Lucas)...sigh. I just tend to pose them like dirty action figures for my own amusement. No money receiv'd. -------

Extra warning: This extra little part has been added to make sure that those of you who are squicked by underage slashy fiction don't wander into this blindly and regret it and then complain abut me. Thanks! ------- This fiction was written in honor of the Merry Month of Masturbation, so enjoy! Story to follow. And Darry, Silver, let me know if you want this for your archives. If so, I'll send a simple .txt version to you personally. Thanks!

The saber slashed quickly down. Xanatos' long black braid whipped across his face, sticking to his sweat-moistened lips as he countered the strikes from his master's zipping lightsaber. Qui-Gon sped up the attacks as training progressed. Xanatos was being steadily driven back towards the padded wall of the large crowded training hall.

Qui-Gon came at him from a low side stance, slashing in a wide but quick arc into Xanatos' left flank. The padawan leapt aside, but his saber was held stiffly in his hands still, its range of motion hindered. This allowed Qui-Gon access to his entire left side with only the slightest movement. Qui-Gon stopped before he struck. The saber would have scorched a wide area across Xanatos' midsection. *That would be too great an injury for this early in the lesson.* Qui-Gon thought suddenly.

Instead he stood back and observed as Xanatos regained his composure after his frantic leap. The young man switched his saber grip to his left hand and began to turn his right hand in small circles. Qui-Gon heard loud snapping sounds issuing from Xanatos' thin white wrists. A slight wince on the young man's face told him that it was time for a break.

"Xanatos. You are holding your saber in a death-grip. If I had made contact with your hands, you would have certainly dropped it. And you did not cover my attack then. Your wrists must maintain a flexible grip in order to retain full mobility with your saber."

Xanatos turned his attention from his wrist to his master. His bright blue eyes were darkened with some unnamed emotion, held just below the surface. "Yes, Master. I saw my error. Shall we go again?"

Qui-Gon sighed wearily and shook his head slowly. "No, Padawan. You have injured your wrist somehow, and I think you need to see to it before we continue. Keep stretching it and put some ice on it in our quarters. Sit down now." Qui-Gon ran his hands idly through his damp locks, untangling them with his fingers, breathing a slow rhythm. He turned his back to his padawan and sat down in seiza meditation stance. Xanatos rushed to sit next to him. It wouldn't do to be standing over your master as he meditated. Bad form.

The windswept hair that fell in unruly waves around his master's face, the sweat dripping from his temples--it had distracted Xanatos for a long second and he had found himself staring. It was only long practice that snapped him out of it and to Qui-Gon's side in time to escape notice. His breathing hadn't slowed; in fact, it threatened to speed up.

Xanatos willed his mind to empty as he shut his eyes. The Force flowed in sheets over him and through him. It always flowed faster after heavy exertion. He felt his master beside him, felt the sheets of energy passing through him. A tingling arose within Xanatos' mind, then his body. He was jolted suddenly out of his meditation by the arousing but disconcerting sensation that he was fully erect in the middle of a crowded training hall.

He tried to cover it by leaning over, as if he was performing a seated bow. This caused Qui-Gon's eyes to snap open. He cast his gaze next to him, to his crumpled padawan. His mouth quirked up slightly, and he uttered the end to the meditation softly. Qui-Gon did not want to embarrass Xanatos, but he wanted to be sure.

"Padawan? Are you all right?" Xanatos almost jumped as he noticed Qui-Gon had been looking at him for some time. His face was bright red, and he did not straighten. He chewed nervously on his long black braid, almost working one of the bands off.

"Yes, Master! May I go now?" Too quickly said. Qui-Gon nodded his head shortly in the affirmative, and Xanatos raised himself carefully, but very quickly to his feet. He shot out the door as if he were on fire. Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled. he would have to determine if what he suspected was true or not. It was starting to affect Xanatos' training now, and it must be brought under control.

Qui-Gon had nominally scheduled a meeting with Yoda for directly after his training session with Xanatos, but he begged off, citing "something came up" as an excuse. *Well, it's true* Qui-Gon thought wryly. Xanatos would not be expecting him for at least an hour.

The Jedi Master slinked silently into his half of the quarters he shared with his apprentice. He wrapped his formidable form in layers of silence; he moved like the shadows against the Temple spires. Not even his Force-signature was detectable within the darkened room. The long shadow shifted across the empty floor and wrapped its hands around the dividing door, which led to Xanatos' separate sleeping quarters. The partition slid open, all noise cushioned purposefully by Qui-Gon's control of his presence within the Force.

The room was dark, but Qui-Gon's eyes were accustomed to it, and he could see the outlines of the desk, chair, the bed against the far wall. A figure sat in silhouette upon the bed. It was slowly vibrating, sending shudders into the floor, the wall, through the Force. Qui-Gon felt the sensation before he registered what he was looking at. Xanatos' dark head was thrown back, his long white neck stretched, his jaw clamped in earnest concentration.

The young man was focused within, pushing himself relentlessly, stroking himself madly, to the point where Qui-Gon was sure he was hurting himself. Low moans echoed flatly across the plascrete walls, sounding louder than they were. Xanatos sounded like he was in pain, but he was obviously enjoying himself. *Or was he?* Qui-Gon pushed a little inside his padawan's mild shields. *The boy didn't think he'd need to shield...*

Images flooded Qui-Gon's mind, some recognizable from this afternoon's sparring: he saw himself approaching, pressing an attack, Xanatos' perspective, parrying and falling back. Qui-Gon's eyes shone with an otherworldly light; they devoured what they saw. Suddenly, the sabers disappeared and Qui-Gon slammed Xanatos against the padded wall. He did not allow escape. Qui-Gon pressed himself again and again against the answering bulge of his padawan's groin, pushed Xanatos' head flush against the sturdy padding with a savage kiss, felt a desperate ecstasy welling from his padawan.

Suddenly, Qui-Gon realized that this fantasy was what had distracted Xanatos as he completed his exercise earlier today. Something had to be done about this before it grew unhealthy. He realized the power of the images though, as he took stock of his own body and found himself well aroused. The frantically straining silhouette of Xanatos inflamed him to the point at which he had to struggle into his center again. Slowing his breaths, opening carefully, he reached out stealthily to his padawan...

*Open your focus...open your mind and let go* The deft insertion of that slight suggestion into Xanatos' "meditations" had an immediate effect. Xanatos slowed down, his breaths lengthened and his jaw unclenched; his mouth fell open with relief as he felt a crystal of perfect sensation growing within him. He shook all over at the perfection of it and came suddenly, a long sharp release which drew him to the edge of consciousness. His loud harsh cry shocked him awake and to the present. His eyes shot open and he instantly saw Qui-Gon watching him.

The sweat poured off him and his skin flushed under cover of the darkness of the room. He panted in slowing rhythm as he adjusted to his new situation. "Master!" he gasped out weakly, still not believing his eyes. There was no way Xanatos could say he was doing anything but what he was, in fact, doing. He had been caught red-handed, so to speak. Xanatos merely stared open-mouthed at his master, who stood serenely in the doorway, a dark silhouette in the gray haze of the unlit apartment.

"Xan, I know what you were doing, so don't even try to get out of this one. You have injured your wrist because you can't stop masturbating, right?"

The matter of fact tone shocked Xanatos out of any embarrassment he had felt at any time previous. "Yes, Master." No need to say anything else.

"You are hurting yourself with it, because you are not letting the Force flow through you as it should. You are denying natural Jedi instincts within you. Why is that, Padawan?" Qui-Gon schooled his expression to careful neutrality as he slowly seated himself next to Xanatos and met the boy's smoldering eyes with equanimity.

"I did not want to broadcast my feelings past my room. It would be quite disrespectful to the others around here." Xanatos' mouth curved in a slight smile, but straightened again as his master continued.

"You closed yourself off completely from the Force, but you were still transmitting your thoughts, Padawan."

Xanatos flushed bright red and his mouth dropped open. he quickly recovered, but it had been said. His fantasy had been discovered by the very object of it. He reached out through his bond and found that Qui-Gon was rather aroused by what he had seen in Xanatos' mind. An impish grin spread across his pale features. "I know one way to solve that problem."

Xanatos practically attacked Qui-Gon where he sat, throwing himself into the older man's arms and capturing his mouth in a sudden, deep kiss. Xanatos glued himself to Qui-Gon, who was at a momentary loss as to what to do. Xanatos reached quickly between Qui-Gon's legs and felt the man's arousal in full flower. Shudders arose between them. Qui-Gon moaned involuntarily, but suddenly stiffened.

He grabbed Xanatos' wrists and disengaged them, throwing Xanatos back against the bed. His breath rose raggedly from within him, and he had to pause before speaking. Xanatos stared at him open-mouthed, unbelieving, his eyes taken over with the force of his lust.

"You know this cannot happen, Xanatos. This is not the answer. Do you remember the last sensation you felt before you noticed me?" Xanatos nodded sharply. He remembered, all right. The intensity had shaken him from deep within.

"That was the result of my helping you to open up to the Force. If you continue to do this on your own, I suggest you open up to the Force, and you will save your wrists a whole lot of wear and tear. I would have sliced you in half because of the stiffness of your wrists at practice today had I set my saber at full power. I know this is the reason. " Qui-Gon paused, his "teaching mode" voice slowly easing him out of his dangerous arousal. He faced Xanatos again, his expression displaying nothing.

He held one of Xanatos' thin wrists in his hand firmly. "I also suggest you do knuckle pushups; 100 per day should strengthen them sufficiently that you don't have the same problem again. Next time I won't pull the strike, and you'll either parry successfully or you'll have a very large scar to remember it by. Understand, Padawan?"

Xanatos straightened and sat closer to his master, placing his other hand lightly over the one in Qui-Gon's possession. His eyes twinkled in the filtered light. "Master? I will gladly do 100 pushups every day, but I have a condition."

Qui-Gon sighed. He could never deny Xanatos. He smiled warmly and held his padawan's dark head in his arm. "What is it, my own troublesome padawan?"

Xanatos grinned unrestrainedly. "I want you under me while I'm doing them, Master."

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and ran his fingers quickly through Xanatos' spiky black hair. He was going to have his hands full...

end