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Not Just the Padawan, but the Master Too!

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The first time it happened, Qui-Gon thought nothing of it. He simply clicked on the message, read the slightly flirty context, and rolled his eyes. He texted his padawan back and asked if he'd meant to text him just that. I mean, really. Was Qui-Gon really interested seeing what was under Obi-Wan's trousers? He did help out in the creche and he'd seen it all. It really wasn't something he wanted to get into and he was going to need to meditate if he was going to get those thoughts out of his mind. And almost immedietly after that, there was such a rush of embarrassment over the Force that Qui-Gon had to sit down and laugh. He wondered if this was what Quin's Master went through all the time.

'Sorry, Master! That wasn't for you!'

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and texted back, 'Then next time, why don't you look at who you're texting?'

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The first time it happened, Darth Sidious was in the Senate building, willing the fools he had been manipulating for the past twenty minutes and forty five seconds to go on and legalize the kriffing clone army already! Really. He could usually lead these idiots around like an eopie with a nose ring, but today they were acting like a pride of felinxes faced with getting a bath. Senator Stonk had already voted no on the issue. Sidious had already planned a fitting death for him. He wasn't going to waste his apprentice who was really a slave on that defective piece of crap, but he was thinking some really nasty poison that maybe made his entrails fall out of his shebs when he went to the bathroom.

Senator Amidala was wavering, probably because the Kaminoans had said they would destroy any leftover clones. Women were soft and did not need to be in the Galactic Senate, but this one could at least follow his lead. And then there was Mas Amedda. His fellow Dark Sider had already voted to accept the clones... if he got to keep one. Sidious gave him the go-ahead. It would be what? A loss of three credits total to the Republic? He would have to have an accountant look over that one. But it wasn't much and he didn't care. Mon Mothma was voting yes. So was Orn Free Taa. And himself, of course. But it was proving tiring to manipulate these suddenly strong willed excuses for humanity.

The message, a video message, popped up suddenly. In hindsight, Sidious should have recognized that number but that slave of his rarely used the comm, so he didn't. He clicked on it, hoping that Nute Gunray had sent some good news to him. What happened instead was his apprentice, Maul, wearing nothing but a pair of slinky boxers and pressed against the wall, was suddenly projected in the middle of the Senate and the Zabrak's surprisingly good voice started pouring from the speakers.

He had to chose I Want to Know What Love Is. Oh course he did. And he had to do the air instruments. The drums. The keyboard or whatever kids these days used. And he had to slide himself up and down the walls like he was oozing sex itself. Maul twisted and curled his body around brickwork that he recognized as his own house on Coruscant.

Maul started purring in the middle of it and crooned the bridge. "I want to know what love is, I want you to show me. I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me. I want to know what love is, I want you to show me." And Sidious swore that everyone in the Senate building, his Keshiri slaves included, were watching the video and not paying attention to what he was doing. Sidious frantically started trying to turn it off, but the video resisted every attempt to close it out. Sidious started cursing wildly and in a fit of temper, he hurled it across the room. When the tablet struck the wall, it suddenly sparked and the video stopped. Right in the middle of what looked to be a strip tease.

Senator Bail Organa cleared his throat. "You had to close it in the best part."

"Children these days and their incessant trolling do not deserve the time to disrupt the Senate," Sidious hissed. He mentally devised a way to punish his errant apprentice when he got back.

"That Zabrak can disrupt me any day of the week." Mon Mothma squirmed in her seat some and fanned her face.

Sidious groaned. He was going to get Maul for this.

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Maul was curled up in the mess of old sacks and cloaks that made up his bed when he got the message. His comm, which he had saved from being thrown in the canal, was usually on silent. But this one dinged, so it had to be for that Jedi Padawan he'd been hooking up with. For the purposes of rotting the Jedi Order from the inside out, of course. Not at all because he enjoyed talking to someone his own age and not being in danger of being punished for the slightest slip up. Finally! Someone else who understood the horrors of autocorrect!

Kenobi had sent him a picture of himself in a dress and Maul suddenly swallowed. It was an ashy grey and conformed to his body perfectly and that unfortunate haircut of his had been styled in a way that made Maul groan softly. He curled around in the nest and sent Kenobi a picture of his slowly rising crotch. That one earned him a closeup of Kenobi in nothing but his Jedi robes and a pair of fishnet stockings. Maul swallowed loudly and carefully tamped down on the emotions rising in him. He eased open his fly and gave Kenobi just a sliver of red and black flesh. That earned him a picture that just almost got him a good view of the padawan's dick.

Maul sent Kenobi a picture of the whole goods, including his knot that was about to pop. Apparently, that was also the picture he accidentally sent to Master, too because the next thing he knew, there was an outraged bellow and Dee-9 suddenly appeared a neuro-whip. No doubt on orders of his Master. Maul grabbed the lightsaber he'd stashed and fended off the droid. Just long enough to see that he got the whole package, front and back.

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"You are not allowed to invite a Sith to the ice cream parlor! How many times do I have to tell you, Obi-Wan?"

"Well, then could we go to the cinema?" Obi-Wan put on his best innocent face and smiled up at his pacing Master. He was very nearly late to what he was refusing to call a date with Maul and it was starting to make him nervous.

"No!" Qui-Gon sounded a little strangled and he paced through the hall. His Master was a maelstrom of emotions in the Force. Obi-Wan squirmed just a little bit more. Maul was pulling on the Force bond, asking where he was and why he wanted to eat something that looked like frozen fat. Obi-Wan tried not choke back on the snarky response. "Do you want him to murder you in a back alley?"

"Well, in a sensual way, yes...."

Qui-Gon threw up his hands. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Go with me to get ice cream?" Obi-Wan suggested. "I want him to understand that you aren't so blind that you can't find your ass with both hands and a navigator? I mean, we're both interested."

Qui-Gon made a strangled sound. "Is there any reason why you've been sending sexually provocative pictures to a Sith? Is it because you like to tempt fate?"

"Nope. The first one was an accident. The others, not so much. Let's go! We're gonna be late!"

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Maul ducked inside the Jedi Temple and felt a huge load lift off of his shoulders. He was free. He might not have been home now, but he was free and he had his Jedi to thank for that. The young Zabrak smiled quite smugly to himself and started thrilling. He'd already put kits in the padawan's belly. He didn't know how far the padawan and the Master had gotten, but he was fairly sure that he'd sired at least one litter. Maul preened as best he could and joined with his Jedi mates in walking down the Jedi Temple. He was much too vain not to broadcast that one through the Force.

Just let his Master try to touch him now.