The Seduction

by Nicole D'Annais ([email protected])

***

He knew before he was fully awake. Before he remembered, without even opening his eyes, Qui-Gon was aware he was wrapped in his padawan. He could feel the young man's distinctive presence in the Force, could smell him with every breath, could feel the smooth skin of Xanatos' forehead against his chin and lips, his hair tickling Qui-Gon's nose. And he could feel warm skin touching his own all the way down his body--an arm wrapped around his chest, a side warming his stomach, a leg draped over both of his own, and the soft flesh between his apprentice's legs that began to harden as Qui-Gon moved against all that tempting skin.

Xanatos stirred, and Qui-Gon felt the young man smile against his shoulder, then place a quick kiss there. The master's eyes remained closed as lips were replaced by a tongue that traced a line of wet heat down to one nipple, as a deft hand made its way lazily down Qui-Gon's torso to his growing erection. The tongue followed the hand's path, stopping now and then to take little bites as it delved lower. Fingertips teased the master moments before his padawan's mouth engulfed him, sending him up in flames.

"Xan--" the word cut off with a groan as Xanatos sucked hard, reaching down to tease Qui-Gon's balls now as he worked his magic with his mouth. Qui-Gon threaded his fingers through his apprentice's short hair, barely managing to restrain himself from gripping the young man's head to the point of unbearable pain as he slowly began to thrust into that oh-so-talented mouth.

The knock at the door elicited a groan of a different kind. Qui-Gon's hips stilled, and his eyes flew open, but Xanatos refused to stop. "Yes?" Qui-Gon managed to choke out, hoping it was loud enough for Stieg Wa to hear, because he didn't think he could manage another word.

"Breakfast in twenty minutes. Then I'm going to get started on the last of the repairs."

"Thank--" A quick biting of his own lip kept Qui-Gon from shouting as Xanatos slipped two fingers inside him, even as the young man continued his work with his mouth. Somewhere in the distant real world, Qui-Gon heard Stieg Wa's footsteps grow fainter and fade, not that it mattered much. He couldn't have stopped himself from responding at this point if his life had depended on it.

He closed his eyes again, holding onto his sanity even as Xanatos tried to drive him crazy. His mind supplied the image he'd seen in the brief moments his eyes had been open. Xanatos, dark head between Qui-Gon's legs, pale skin spread out below, pink lips covering his erection, a look of sheer pleasure on his face. And one long look into the black eyes rimmed with deepest blue, a look of total possession. Of desire. Of ownership.

The wealth of passionate feeling behind that last emotion was enough to send Qui-Gon over the edge, as he arched his back and came, dimly aware of his padawan holding on for the ride. After, he lay there for several minutes, just breathing until he could think again. When he finally returned to some semblance of coherency, it was to find his apprentice stroking himself, face buried in Qui-Gon's hair, body alongside his master, touching every inch of the way.

Wordlessly, Qui-Gon slid down the young man's body and took his shaft all the way into his mouth, swallowing around the tip. Xanatos arched up, his hips inches off the bed as he climaxed with a shout of his master's name, then collapsed back onto the bed. Qui-Gon crawled back up next to him, gathering him in his arms.

Xanatos' breathing finally slowed enough to allow him to speak. "Good morning, Master."

Qui-Gon laughed. "That it is indeed."

They lay there for a few more minutes, Qui-Gon steadfastly refusing to think of consequences. The ramifications of this could stay in the back of his mind and needle him all they wanted; he wasn't bringing them out into the light of day. Not yet. There would be time for that later. "We must get up," he said at last, placing a kiss on his padawan's head and sitting up in the bed.

"Why?" The sulky tone was at odds with Xanatos' actions, as he followed his master's example and stood, reaching for his clothes.

"Because Stieg Wa has breakfast ready. And I've seen you when you're hungry."

Xanatos grinned then, a dangerous light in his eyes as he finished pulling on his pants. He stalked over to his master, wrapping his arms around the older man. "I'm hungry now," he growled as he fastened his lips to Qui-Gon's shoulder.

"For food, Padawan." The tone was forceful, but Qui-Gon was slow to push the young man away. He did finally extricate himself, and the two of them finished dressing and headed out to find Stieg Wa.

Breakfast was a quick affair, all of them anxious to be out of the Landor system and away from the pirates. Stieg Wa finished first, dumping his dirty dishes in the cleaning unit before the Jedi had finished half of their own meals. "I'm going to suit up and finish the repairs on the platform. We should be ready to leave shortly."

"Be careful," Qui-Gon said. Stieg Wa was an experienced pilot, and had no doubt done things like this numerous times, but any trip outside the ship in a space suit carried an extra risk. There was no such thing as too much caution.

The pilot grinned. "I always am."

As Qui-Gon finished his breakfast, he felt his padawan's gaze on him the whole time. He steadfastly refused to look at the young man, but after a few minutes of that intense scrutiny, he had to say something. "Padawan...."

"Yes, Master?" The polite words held a silky undercurrent of pure sex that sent Qui-Gon's pulse racing.

"You must control yourself," Qui-Gon admonished, finally meeting Xanatos' eyes. "Others will be looking for signs of our relationship. If we are to keep it secret until your knighthood, you must bury your feelings deep."

Xanatos' eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Am I not even allowed to look at you when we are alone?"

"When we are alone you may do as you please," the Jedi master answered, a shiver running through him at the thought of things that might please his padawan. "But Stieg Wa could return at any moment."

"Stieg Wa does not have any Force ability. He wouldn't be able to sense anything from me."

"He wouldn't need to. Anyone with eyes could figure out exactly what you were thinking just now."

Xanatos took a deep breath. "I will endeavor to be more careful in public in the future, my Master." His voice now held a sulky note, a sign of the willfulness the young man had never quite outgrown. In truth, Qui-Gon had not pushed him to subdue that trait nearly as much as the rest of the Order would have dictated. He had found from personal experience that sometimes a little willfulness was more of a help than a vice when it came to dealing with the Council.

"We'd best get this cleaned up and prepare to leave," Qui-Gon said, taking his dishes to the cleaner. "We'll need--"

A sharp blast to the side of the ship interrupted him, sent him flying across the room, almost into his apprentice's lap. "The pirates--Stieg Wa!" Qui-Gon yelled, already running for the door.

Xanatos was right behind him. "There's only one more suit where he is. I'll get one from the other hatch and meet you back there as soon as I can."

Qui-Gon nodded, turning down the hall toward the back of the ship as his padawan went the other way. He made it to a porthole close to the dorsal platform in time to see Stieg Wa, hurrying toward the door. Qui-Gon braced himself against the wall as another blast rocked the ship. He regained his balance and looked out the porthole again to see Stieg Wa clutching his arm, unable to cover the blaster hole in his suit. Pirates were already rocketing over to the ship, jet packs on the back of their space suits making it a quick journey.

Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, intending to fend off the pirates until Stieg Wa could get back to the door. When he looked again, however, the pirates had reached the ship unhindered. He frowned, then concentrated harder, but to no avail.

"Sith!" Qui-Gon put the Force problem aside to wonder about later. He looked around, found a space suit, and began the laborious task of putting it on as his apprentice rounded the corner.

"What are you doing?" Xanatos demanded. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm going out there to save him!"

Xanatos looked out the porthole. "You can't go out there! The pirates are already on their way--if you go out there they'll capture you too."

"I won't leave him to be captured!" Qui-Gon pulled the suit up and started sealing it shut.

Xanatos knocked his master's hands away, ripping the seals off. "You can't take them all! And I won't let them take you!"

Qui-Gon fought him, neither man able to accomplish anything while they battled. "Padawan! I *will* save him!" He managed to shove Xanatos off, but before he could get to the door, his apprentice had a firm grip on his arm.

"You can't! Look!" Xanatos jerked him roughly over to the window. "They have him! And if we don't leave they'll have us too. Do you know what Jedi go for on the black market?"

"I--" His training gnawed at him, urging him to stay and fight, but the pirates were closer to their own ship than Stieg Wa's, and he could not face all of them *and* the guns of their ship and hope to win.

"Master. *Qui-Gon.* We must go." He pulled on his master's arm, tugging him toward the escape pods. After a moment, Qui-Gon nodded. He took one last look at Stieg Wa, being carried back to the pirate ships by one man, while three more began opening the hatch that would lead them to the hallway the Jedi were standing in, then turned silently, following his padawan to the pods.

They made it there in seconds. Xanatos picked the first one, yanking the hatch open and dragging his master inside, almost as if he were afraid Qui-Gon would change his mind. Only when the hatch was sealed and the pod had jettisoned did Xanatos allow his grip on Qui-Gon's arm to loosen. Not that he let the older man go--instead he climbed onto him, facing him in the odd bench-like seat that tilted slightly, enabling the padawan to stare down at his master. "I thought I might lose you," he breathed.

"I'm still here," Qui-Gon reminded him with a shaky smile. Xanatos' answer was to kiss his master soundly.

After a few moments, Qui-Gon pushed him back. "We need to set the coordinates before we drift too far."

"They're already set. I set them myself after the first attack."

Qui-Gon frowned at him, a faint sliver of unease working into his mind. "Why would you do that?"

"Are you kidding? After we'd been attacked once and were sitting dead in pirate space? The odds were against us. And I always leave a back door, even when the odds are good."

A reasonable point in favor of the action. Qui-Gon shoved the unease away, focusing instead on the fact that they were now safe, even if the same could not be said for Stieg Wa. The pod had a homing beacon that they didn't dare turn on, but no com equipment. He would have to contact the Temple when they reached Telos and have knights sent to track Stieg Wa. The pilot had been captured serving the Jedi; he would not just be left to his fate. Not without a fight.

"Master," Xanatos sighed, tucking his face into the crook of Qui-Gon's neck. "Promise me you won't take risks like that again."

"I shall do what I must." He relented slightly as his padawan's arms tightened around him. "But I will promise to be careful."

Xanatos raised his head to look down at him. "Then I will hold you to that," he said earnestly. He lowered his lips to meet Qui-Gon's, placing a relieved kiss there, then looked over his own shoulder at the control panel. "We have two days till we reach Telos," he said, returning his attention to his master, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "What shall we do to occupy ourselves in the meantime?"

"We shall meditate," Qui-Gon answered. He knew what his padawan was hinting at. He could feel the young man's growing erection against his own, sense Xanatos' relief at their escape and need to feel everything, to know they were both unharmed and quite alive. And he felt the same need growing inside himself.

However, they needed to conserve their strength, and be fully aware of everything around them. Sex with Xanatos, in any form, tended to shut out the rest of the galaxy. And Qui-Gon needed to meditate on the problem he'd had with the Force on the ship.

"Hm...perhaps we can meditate later?" the young man replied, rubbing his hips against Qui-Gon's.

The Jedi Master wavered, but his resolve held. "Padawan. We must keep our attention focused on our surroundings." He hated to see the hurt look in Xanatos' eyes as the rebuke hit home, but he had no choice. In normal situations, Xanatos was hard to deter when he wanted something. In this kind of situation, Qui-Gon knew he would be nearly impossible, but Jedi Master refused to waiver.

After a moment, Xanatos realized his pouting wasn't going to work. "Yes, Master," he growled, giving in, but not even pretending to be gracious about it. "But I'm not moving."

"Fine." They could meditate like this--there was precious little space to sit as it was. The pod was cramped and cold, meant for survival, not for comfort, and at least this way they would conserve heat. "But meditate," he commanded firmly. "Focus your attention outward, and be alert for danger."

"Yes, Master." The tone was even angrier, but Xanatos did as he was told, closing his eyes and curling into his master. Qui-Gon sensed him settling into a light trance, sending out tendrils of the Force, searching for possible problems.

Qui-Gon allowed himself one moment to breathe in his apprentice's scent before he settled into a trance himself, finding no problems with his Force connection, but putting the question of that earlier difficulty aside as he kept watch while they made their way to Telos.

***

Qui-Gon settled back on the bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. After two days cramped up in the escape pod, they'd made it to Telos, but he'd had to call the Council and deal with Stieg Wa's capture and the sticky questions it created. He'd managed to get away without having to answer too many directly. He still hadn't figured out what happened to his Force abilities on the ship, and he wasn't anxious to answer questions regarding his apprentice in any capacity.

He reached for his neck, kneading the muscles there, trying to relax them. Every muscle in his body ached--whoever designed those escape pods must have meant them for Ewoks. He could use a massage. A very long massage. Xanatos had gone off with his father as soon as they'd been rescued from the pod and brought back to Thani. The capital of Telos had much to offer in the way of entertainment, but Qui-Gon much preferred the solitude of his room. Or the company of his apprentice, if the young man ever showed up.

As if on cue, Xanatos walked in. Qui-Gon watched as he crossed quickly to the bed, flopping down on his stomach with his head propped on his fist, and studied his master. "Sore, Master?"

"Those pods aren't built for any person of normal height, much less two tall men."

Xanatos grimaced sympathetically, reaching out to rub Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I'm a bit sore myself. But I know what will fix that."

"Hmmm?" Qui-Gon responded, leaning into the soothing touch of his padawan's hand and closing his eyes again.

"The chau'baq."

His eyes opened again. "The what?"

"Chau'baq. It's a large tub, with hot water, and--well, I'll show you. Come on." He tugged on his master's arm, pulling him into a sitting position, then moving away from the bed. He crossed to Qui-Gon's pack and searched through it, then frowned. "I think there were some...just a minute." Qui-Gon stared after him, eyes fixed on the empty doorway until Xanatos returned. "Here," his apprentice said, dropping a garment on the bed. "Put that on and meet me in the lounge. Down the hall to the right, third door on the left."

The Jedi master eyed the flimsy garment warily. "Why?"

"Trust me, Master," Xanatos said, grinning. "You won't regret it."

"You're not going to wait for me?"

A gleam entered Xanatos' eyes. "If I stay in this room while you change, I suspect neither of us will be leaving for a while."

"There is that," Qui-Gon agreed softly, a smile finally crossing his lips. "I'll meet you in a few minutes."

Xanatos nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him, and leaving Qui-Gon to contemplate the rather small amount of fabric he'd been left with and just what he was getting himself into.

***

Qui-Gon made his way slowly down the hall, pausing to admire the statues that lined the marble floor. The hallway was just like the rest of the house--rich and impressive. And cold, he added as a draft blew by, causing him to pull his robe tighter. Unwilling to wander around in the skimpy short pants Xanatos had left him with, he'd opted to wear his robe as well.

Undoubtedly it was much warmer in this chau'baq Xanatos was luring him to. The thought of warmth and his padawan lured him down the hall and through the door. The room was indeed warmer, and held a pleasant scent Qui-Gon couldn't quite place. He followed the sound of quiet voices and a faint bubbling noise around a corner to find his padawan sitting in a large tub next to his father.

Xanatos turned as Qui-Gon approached the tub. "Master! I was beginning to think you were lost."

"I was admiring the statues in the hall. You have a lovely home, Crion."

"Thank you, Master Jinn. I have had much time alone to travel and collect art over the years."

"Won't you join us, Master?" Xanatos held his braid in his hand, sliding it through the water surrounding him. "The water is very soothing; I hardly feel any of the aches from being in that pod now."

His apprentice stretched, leaving Qui-Gon fighting both the memories of the last time he'd shared a tub of hot water with the young man, and the sight of all that glistening wet skin. The bubbling of the water was, thankfully, keeping everything below it from view. If he'd been faced with the entire form of his padawan at once...well, he would do what he needed to do to ensure that they were not discovered, but it would have strained him.

As he dropped his robe and stepped into the tub, Qui-Gon noticed Xanatos was the picture of composure. His father sat next to him with no idea of what was going through the young man's head. But any Force user would have been slammed with the emotions rolling from him in waves.

Qui-Gon frowned at his padawan as he sat down opposite him, a warning to strengthen his shields. Emotions released into the Force with such intensity could have side effects on anyone around them. Xanatos' mouth tightened and his eyes darkened, but the emotions eased until they were barely noticeable.

Admiring the ability it took to close such strong feelings off so quickly, Qui-Gon sent his padawan a smile, but it was met with a cool gaze. Before Qui-Gon could wonder about that look, it was gone, replaced by a cheerful smile as Xanatos talked to his father.

With a mental shrug, Qui-Gon leaned back and closed his eyes, pushing his hair onto the shelf behind him as he sank down until the hot water covered his shoulders up to his neck. The bubbles in the water were created by jets of air that shot out of various spots in the side of the tub. He leaned against four of them, letting them massage all of the knots out of his back. Jets near the bottom of the tub worked out the pains in his legs. Within minutes he was more relaxed than he'd been since...since his time in the bathtub with Xanatos.

He pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment, the soothing heat of the water, the pounding of the jets at his aching muscles, the foot trailing its way up his leg--

Sith! Only years of training kept Qui-Gon from jumping out of the water. If he didn't know better he'd swear Xanatos was trying to kill him! One of his eyes cracked open enough to look at his apprentice, whose attention was totally focused on his father. At least it appeared that way. And yet, one of his feet was slowly making its way up Qui-Gon's calf, across his knee and down the length of his thigh. It stopped at the barrier of the shorts, then one toe dipped under the fabric and ran along the edge, pressing against the skin.

That touch of skin on skin sensitized by the swirling water raised goose bumps all over Qui-Gon's body. He nearly gasped when the foot disappeared, but it quickly reappeared, tracing the outline of his erection through his shorts. He did gasp then, mouth opening just far enough for water to sneak in, and he coughed. Both men turned to him, almost identical expressions of curiosity on their faces. "Are you all right, Master?" Xanatos asked, tone solicitous and polite, even as that foot grew bolder, massaging the swollen flesh beneath the fabric.

"Fine." Somehow Qui-Gon managed to keep his voice even as he sat there, being brought nearly to an orgasm by his padawan--right in front of the young man's thankfully oblivious father. Just when he thought he would no longer be able to stop himself, the foot retreated, drawing itself back down his leg and away.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, focusing his energies on dispersing his lust without causing an orgy nearby. He managed to get his need down to a bearable level, to where he did not have to concentrate on controlling his breathing when he felt it again.

This time Xanatos let his toenails lightly scrape up the side of Qui-Gon's leg, all the way to the edge of the fabric. The young man shifted, a natural movement in the midst of his conversation, but a move that in reality gave him more reach. His entire leg drifted over Qui-Gon's for a moment before the foot grazed his renewing erection.

The foot slid downward, below his shaft to caress the opening behind it through the fabric. Qui-Gon couldn't suppress a shiver at that feeling, and at the memories that assailed him.

He couldn't take anymore. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon stood, stalking over to the stairs and stepping out of the chau'baq. "I feel much better," he said as he busied himself pulling on his robe, neatly avoiding Crion's eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry to break up the reunion, but I need my Padawan for a few things. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course." Crion nodded to his son as the Xanatos rose and followed his master out of the room. Qui-Gon couldn't look at his padawan as he strode down the hall to his room, but he knew the young man was right behind him. He could feel him there, feel the heat pulsing between them.

Qui-Gon threw the door open, only to hear it slam shut just as quickly. His world spun, and he found himself shoved up against the door, the polished wood smooth against his cheek and his chest as his robe was yanked from his shoulders. His hair was shoved aside as teeth grazed at his neck, a wet braid slid along his back, and he heard a rip, followed by cool air on his hips. The shorts, he realized dazedly; Xanatos had ripped them off.

Then he lost coherent thought as one thumb made its way into his opening, working the muscle there easily. The thumb was replaced with a knuckle, the width of the bent finger stretching him further as he writhed against the door.

"Please..." Qui-Gon grated out, breathing hard as he thrust back onto those fingers, wanting more.

Xanatos stopped his assault on his master's neck long enough for two words. "Please what?"

"Inside me...you. Now!"

The young man laughed harshly, biting on Qui-Gon's neck. "It's not nice to demand," he murmured, lips moving against his master's skin. "But as it happens," he added, "I want to be in you."

He moved away long enough to remove his own shorts, and then he was inside his master in one quick thrust. Qui-Gon cried out, his hands sliding down the door to reach for his own erection, but Xanatos stopped him.

"Mine," the padawan grated out, still moving inside his master as he pinned both Qui-Gon's arms to the wall and held them there. Qui-Gon bit his lip as he was repeatedly pounded into the door, the sensation of his rock-hard erection sliding between the wood and his stomach just enough to leave him wanting more. Much more.

Over and over, the friction of the cool door and the heat of his own skin, the thickness sliding in and out of his body, the sensation of teeth, lips and tongue all over his shoulders and neck, and of hot, damp skin along the length of his back slowly drove him toward insanity. He tried to move his hands again, but Xanatos pushed them against the door even harder, keeping them there with a bruising grip. Finally Xanatos let go of his arms, reached down to his hips and pulled them away from the door leaving Qui-Gon to brace himself against the door or fall down. The Jedi Master howled as Xanatos thrust deeper into him at a new angle, stroking a place inside of him that set him on fire.

And then Xanatos' hands were on him, and that was the beginning of the end. He climaxed with such a force it shook him to the core, took him completely out of himself for what felt like forever, and at the same time not nearly long enough.

He was surprised to still be standing when it was over. His legs and arms held him up until Xanatos came inside him with a hoarse shout, his teeth sinking into Qui-Gon's shoulder. They both collapsed to the floor, Xanatos wrapped around his master, holding tightly as if he had no intention of ever letting go.

Eyes closed, savoring the moment, Qui-Gon felt lips moving against his neck. "Mine," his padawan breathed, tongue reaching out to slide along his nape.

"Yes," he responded softly, his arms tightening on the ones gripping his midsection. He could not deny that he was owned; to ignore the truth would be far too dangerous.

Lips moved on him again, tracing a lazy line down his shoulder before Xanatos stilled, nose pressed against his master's back, breathing deeply, drawing out the moment for as long as it could last.

END PART 5  

~ proceed to Part 6 ~