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"Are you ready?"
Quinlan rarely squirmed. Aayla would be lying if she said that she wasn't getting some enjoyment out of watching him look uncomfortable. She couldn't imagine why her normally cool and relaxed master was so out of sorts. Masters were required to initiate their Padawans into all aspects of being a Jedi. For some, that did not include sexual pleasures. But Aayla already knew from the way a warmth spread over her every time she looked at Kit Fisto that the desire to have sexual intercourse was one that she was going to enjoy someday.
"I'm ready, Master," Aayla said with certainty in her voice. She bounced lightly on the bed. It creaked a little, and she pressed her lips together to stop a laugh from coming up out of her. "That's going to be noisy."
Quinlan brought his hand briefly to his face. But despite that, his shoulders shook with laughter he wouldn't verbalize.
"Are you ready, Master?" she asked. "You know... there are rules, if you are against this. Another Master could take your place, if the three of us agree upon it."
"But what kind of master would that make me?" he asked. "This is my duty to you, Aayla. As all Jedi have had the same duty before me."
"It is said that it will strengthen our bond," Aayla said.
"Where did you hear that? Are the young Padawans gossiping about the ritual? Seems like something Master Yoda would frown upon."
"Master Yoda wants us to be comfortable when it comes time for the ritual," Aayla argued. "He pretends to not hear what he can hear very well, Master."
Quinlan shrugged off his shirt and folded it carefully. That was surely a sign that he was nervous. The action was too thoughtful and concise to belong to her master's movements.
"Is it because I am a Twi'lek?" she asked. "That you hesitate?"
"Of course not."
"Then what is it? You are not one to hesitate when sex is available."
His laughter filled the room and the action made his chest muscles a very clear focal point of Aayla's view. She stared thoughtfully at the bare chest. She had seen brief glimpses before, of course. Many times before, Master Vos had found his shirt in compromising positions. Which usually translated to having his shirt ripped by a set of claws or a sword on the end of an angry owner.
She must have stared for far too long, because eventually, he came to stand before her. "You don't have to just look, you know. You can touch, too."
The grin that was almost constantly on her master's face was a little more unsure this time around and Aayla tried to let her certainty bleed out into their connection through the Force.
She took the invitation in the spirit that it had been intended. She reached forward and let her hands graze through the hair that covered his chest. It was a curious human phenonenon. The males of Aayla's species did not have it, and Aayla spent a few moments letting her fingers explore the curious sensation of the hair beneath her fingertips.
Abruptly, she became aware of the sensation of pleasure emanating from her Master.
"You find that pleasureable?" she asked in amusement. "Why? How?"
"Aayla, you are fondling my chest," he reminded her. "If I were to do the same to her, wouldn't you find it pleasurable?"
She stopped touching his chest and instead took his hands in hers. His hands were larger than hers and she tried to imagine how they would feel touching more sensitive spots.
"Aayla," Quinlan said. "If I do this... well, I guess I was not truthful before. My hesitation does have something to do with you being a Twi'lek."
There was an undercurrent of worry mixed in their bond and that was rare.
"Having a Twi'lek has never shamed you in the past," Aayla said, and perhaps she did not keep the hurt out of her voice. Nor did it escape their bond.
"I am not ashamed of you." He sat beside her on the bed, keeping her hands firmly within his own. "But your people - well. There are many who would take advantage of a Twi'lek. I need you to make sure that we aren't doing that. That my filling of my duty is something you want, not something you think you must do."
She squeezed his hands. "Listen to me, Quin," she said, allowing the familiar term between them instead of the formal on purpose. "I want to fulfill this ritual. I want to give myself as a Padawan to my Master. I would prefer it to be you. If you are uncomfortable with that, I will choose Master Tholme. But you my preference. I wish to learn at your side this, as I have learned everything else I have chosen to include in my life."
There was an overwhelming sense of relief that came from the Force and the bond between them. "Tholme was a patient teacher, and I am not sorry he fulfilled my ritual. But Tholme is literally the most boring lay in the entire Order, Aayla. I say that with love and respect, but - "
"But you've sampled enough to know?" she teased.
His laughter when it came the second time was warmer and more free. "I have a list of recommendations, if you'd like," he said.
"I might," she said cheekily.
"Perhaps later," he suggested. "I'm not quite in the mood to share tonight."
He was still laughing as he pulled his hand free and caressed her lekku. It was an incredible feeling, and Aayla wanted him to repeat it.
"Something you like, Padawan?" he asked. His voice has dropped a bit, down into that familiar register that he has used on many a gorgeous and willing partners.
"I think," she said breathlessly, "that I will enjoy that far more than i will enjoy you fondling my chest."
"Let's compare, shall we?"
His hands moved to unsnap the latches on her top. Aayla thought about helping him, but instead, she'd rather watch him do it himself.
When it was said and done, Aayla had to admit that his hands were equally skilled, no matter what part of her body they touched - and they did their best to make sure those hands touched every inch of her skin.