First piece of fan-fiction so feedback would be nice if you're feeling friendly. Good, bad, whatever just no pointless flaming please.
The two padawans walked in to the dining hall, famished after a long morning of training in the salle. Garen signalled over to the sunbeam that was casting light over the Masters' table, where Qui-Gon sat talking to Councillor Windu, and sighed, "You're too lucky, you know that, Kenobi? I'd give my lightsaber to be his padawan".
They picked up their trays and made there way over to the Senior Padawan area of the hall while Obi-Wan replied, "Mmm, no choice but to walk three paces behind him, watching that perfect, gorgeous arse ahead of me…it sure is a tough life being a Jedi!" He began to drool at the thought. "And how he sways his hips as he strides along, making it move in such an inviting way".
"Uh, Obi?" Garen said, clearly trying to pull Obi-Wan out of his daydream, but too involved in the image, he continued his musings, "And when he takes off his robe, I long to let my tongue explore the enticing shape that becomes clear through his leggings".
More desperate this time, Garen hissed, "Obi?" But it seemed to be impossible to direct his friend away from the thoughts of his Master, so instead Garen decided to watch and enjoy the scene that he saw was about to unfold in front of him.
"Oh yes, I know just how lucky I am," Obi-Wan continued, "and I thank the force for it everyday. I doubt there's ever been a Jedi with an arse quite that…what's the word?…Fucktastic!"
"And may I ask exactly whose 'arse' it is that you're referring to, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan sharply returned to the moment at the sound of that familiar, strong, commanding voice, that Garen had attempted to warn him was approaching. "Oh, M-M-Master", he stuttered as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks, "I-I hope you enjoyed your mid-meal?"
"Very much so, yes, thank you padawan. However, don't think I didn't notice that deliberate avoidance of my question", Qui-Gon replied, unable to keep the beginnings of a smirk off his face.
Not noticing, Obi-Wan blushed more furiously as he struggled to find an appropriate response. He looked up at Garen hoping for some support and a way out of his predicament, but seeing his friend was struggling to contain the laughter that was threatening to bubble out of him, Obi-Wan realised he had to find a way out on his own. It was then - much to his padawan's confusion, that Qui-Gon started chuckling himself.
Regaining his composure, Qui-Gon ruffled Obi-Wan's spiky padawan haircut, "Don't worry, my Obi-Wan, I've often told Mace, and the other Masters at our table just how delectable your own arse looks when you rehearse those graceful, yet powerful, aerial katas. And, in fact, the whole time".
Rendered speechless, Obi-Wan found he was unable to respond, and was left staring, open-mouthed at his Master as he left the hall to return to their quarters. He had only just enough awareness to notice the extra swagger that Qui-Gon had put into his stride.