Archive: M_A, GiffStein (someday), anyone else please ask first
Summary: After performing incredible feats, Obi-Wan really
needs some help to relax. He gets it from Qui- Gon.
Feedback: Why yes, I'll have seconds on that pie!
Disclaimer: Come on, you've seen pictures of me. Do I even
vaguely look like George Lucas? Nope. Then these guys must
belong to him. Bet he doesn't do any of this with them, even in
his imagination. Then again, I know I don't make his
salary.
Notes: For some reason, Black Rose's request for something warm
and fuzzy hit a note with me. I could use some of this too and
I haven't had a day anything like Obi's. And yeah, I make our
Obi a little too damn perfect here, but why not?
For Black Rose
After the Dance
By Ruth Gifford
(c) 1999
All of Obi-Wan's friends had finally left the quarters he
shared with his Master. Now if only the few Masters who
remained at the impromptu party would just go, he could
collapse. Of course, he thought watching as Mace Windu and
M'Bast teased his Master about getting too confident, he could
go collapse in a small heap in a corner and no one would notice
him.
"Notice you, they would."
"I'm sorry, Master Yoda. I didn't realize I was broadcasting."
"Mmmmm. Tired?"
"Did you teach your last Padawan that understatement trick?"
Obi-Wan asked a little impudently. Yoda had always treated him
as sort of a grandson, or like he imagined a grandson should be
treated.
"Who else?" the diminutive Master replied. "Proud, he is of
you, and well he should be."
"Pride?"
"Well tempered with realism, young Padawan, pride not always to
the Dark Side leads."
"Oh." Obi-Wan said cleverly. His body was getting stiff while
at the same time his legs and arms felt like rubber. He leaned
back in his chair and was vaguely aware of Master Yoda
determinedly making his way toward Qui-Gon and his friends.
"Enough!" Yoda snapped as he reached the three Masters. He
proceeded to snap out instructions as if issuing commands in
battles and the three yearmates flinched at his tone of voice.
Mace disappeared into the bathroom, M'Bast raised her comlink,
and Qui-Gon headed over to where Obi-Wan half dozed.
"Padawan?"
"Huh? Master?"" Obi-Wan struggled to get to his feet or at
least sit a little more upright, but the strong hands of his
lover gently held him in place.
"Just relax for a moment, Obi-love," Qui-Gon murmured. "I
should have realized you'd be exhausted, but I've never
accomplished so much in one day."
"Not so," Obi-Wan argued. "12th year Padawan Jinn won the
Singles Kata, the Pairs Kata, the Senior Pairs 'Saber
competition, the Single Dance, and the Senior Grand Dance
(Partners)."
"You forgot that you took the two Group wins and the Single
'Saber competition. No Padawan has ever won every single
physical contest at the yearly games. And four of those finals
were today. I'm so proud of you, beloved Padawan."
"Mmmmm," Obi-Wan basked tiredly in his master's smile. "Yoda
said so."
"He's proud of you too," Qui-Gon began but then Mace was at his
shoulder.
"Congratulations again, Obi-Wan," the usually stern Master
said. He laid a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder and whispered in his
ear, and then nodded at Obi-Wan with a smile and left the
suite.
"I must be asleep; he smiled at me." Obi-Wan dared to say.
"I heard that," came a laughing voice behind Qui-Gon. "He
used to smile." Master M'Bast handed something to
Qui-Gon that immediately disappeared into Obi-Wan's master's
robes. "Well done, Obi-Wan, you've had a day worthy of great
marks." She nodded a little more formally, and then left.
"Now," Yoda voice sounded from the door. "Take care of him, my
Padawan."
"Yes, my Master," Qui-Gon replied sheepishly as the door closed
behind their final visitor. "Pushy little troll," he muttered
to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon stood and looked down at Obi-Wan. "I won't even ask you
to walk." He bent, lifted the young man in his arms and carried
him toward the bathroom. Obi-Wan let himself go limp, and had
the unique sensation of having his boots slide easily off his
feet. His belt, sash and stola all snaked off his body as well.
It could have been nerve-wracking, but this was Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan had trusted his master with so much over the years that
vanishing clothes was a small thing to worry about.
The bathroom was already steamy and smelled of spice amber and
tova leaves. When Qui-Gon turned the lights off with a flick of
the force, Obi-Wan could see that the room was lit by the
dozens of the small pierced metal lanterns he loved so much.
Qui-Gon carried him right to the filled tub and then let go of
him.
It was a measure of Obi-Wan's fatigue and his trust that he
didn't even tense or expect to fall in the bath in his clothes.
He was held up by the Force while Qui-Gon quickly undressed him
quickly, his master ignoring the one portion of his anatomy
that he hadn't overworked during the day and that was taking a
mild bit of interest in the proceedings.
And then even thoughts of sex vanished as he was gently lowered
into the tub of perfectly hot water. Qui-Gon's field of Living
Force was still all around him and he let every muscle go
completely limp. The water swirled around him, sometimes gently
to calm surface muscles and sometimes furiously to pound knots
and strains into submission.
Even as the water massaged him, Qui-Gon was loosening Obi-Wan's
hair from the tail and braid. And if Obi-Wan had thought he was
relaxed before, it was nothing compared to the feeling of
Qui-Gon's strong fingers washing his short hair and massaging
his scalp and neck. Stress and tensions and fears he hadn't
even been aware of began to vanish as his head was tended to
with the same mixture of gentleness and firmness as the rest of
his body.
Finally the incredible bath was over. Obi-Wan would have
happily slept there all night, but he wanted the comforting
warmth of his master beside him. Qui-Gon took a few more
moments to carefully wash the long wavy tail that normally made
up Obi-Wan's braid, and then once more the Force was lifting
Obi-Wan out of the tub, where he was immediately wrapped in
three large thick towels and gently dried off.
Once he was dry, Qui-Gon took him into his arms again and
Obi-Wan sighed happily at the touch of bare skin against bare
skin. Qui-Gon was naked now as well and once more Obi-Wan's
libido took note of the fact that it hadn't been getting much
attention lately. Qui-Gon chuckled and carried Obi-Wan into
their bedroom, which was also lit only by tiny star shapes of
Obi-Wan's lamps.
Once he was laid down on the bed, Obi-Wan reached for his
Master, but Qui-Gon shook his head. "You have to rest and I
have to take care of you. M'Bast gave me a little something . .
." He held out a hand and a bottle appeared in it. "Let's try
it out, shall we? She and Scialla swear by it."
More Force pressure and Obi-Wan's limp body was rolled onto
it's stomach. He sighed into his pillow in anticipation. His
Master's old friend and her bonded were known for their
reputations as sensualists, not to mention that Master Scialla
was a healer.
Still, when the oil trailed down his spine, he was unprepared
for the effect. It was warm, but not annoyingly so, like so
many oils. It smelled like a patch of spice grass that had been
rained on, and as Qui-Gon's hands began to smooth it into him,
it felt like liquid velvet covering his body. Obi-Wan moaned
and surrendered himself to Qui-Gon's massage.
Qui-Gon followed the pattern the bath water had followed,
smoothing what simply needed more relaxing, and working much
harder on the still tight calves and upper back. Obi-Wan made
no response other than almost continual moans and sighs of
appreciation, as each touch turned his muscles more and more
into mush. When Qui- Gon flipped him over gently to work on his
front, he was too relaxed to be aroused, and he didn't really
care. Qui-Gon's silent, soothing presence was as much a balm
for his mind as those strong hands and the oil was for his
body. It was as if his mind stilled with each long sweep of
palms or hard kneading of fingers.
Obi-Wan lay, boneless and more than half asleep when Qui-Gon
was finally finished. His body had soaked up most of the oil
and he gleamed dully in the diffused light. His Master, forced
his own tension down and moved to sit next to Obi-Wan'
shoulder. He took the braid lock in hand, and began to braid
it, still sending peaceful tendrils of the Force into his young
lover's mind. Obi-Wan hardly noticed the small gold beads Qui-
Gon used in the braid, eight in all, one for each victory. He
finished it with an amber spice bead, that would scent his
Padawan's hair, and probably drive half the Temple wild.
He was half wild as Obi-Wan murmured, sleepily, "love you,
Master," and rolled a little into his usual sprawled position.
"One more thing, Padawan. One way you haven't been taken care
of."
"I never thought I'd be too tired," Obi-Wan said, but Qui-Gon
put a finger over his mouth.
"Hush. You need do nothing. Just open your link to me and let
me show you what I remember most from today."
Images fell into Obi-Wan's mind, a particularly graceful turn
during the Singles Kata final, the smile of genuine pleasure
and graciousness as Obi-Wan shook hands with the Master he
defeated in the 'Saber final, the joyful rhythm and connection
to the Force that Obi-Wan, Bant, Jorin and Kyrel exhibited
during their Group Kata. Obi- Wan felt Qui-Gon's awareness of
his Padawan's every move during their two final matches,
particularly the way they led each other in the Grand Dance,
breaking with the tradition that said only a master led the
Dance.
And then more intimate images and feelings followed. Wrapping
Obi-Wan in bath water and the Living Force, smoothing oil into
the beautiful body Qui-Gon loved so much. Obi-Wan felt the
pleasure his master had felt as he tended to Obi-Wan's legs,
and the smooth curve of his flanks and hips.
It went further in Obi-Wan's mind. Although his body, with he
exception of his burgeoning erection, remained relaxed, in his
mind, Qui-Gon was touching him more intimately, leaning down to
tongue eager nipples, and rolling him over again to caress the
firm swell of his buttocks.
The Force surged between them then as minds moved together in
the patterns that were normally followed by their bodies.
Obi-Wan made no sound and yet cried out as Qui-Gon's tongue
probed at the tight entrance to his body. Qui-Gon still sat at
Obi-Wan's shoulder with the braid in his hand, even as he felt
his fingers, covered with oil, easing into his lover.
And then mental scream from both of them as each felt Qui-Gon
slowly easing his cock into that tight heat. With this way of
sharing, each was the other, and so Qui-Gon was entered and
Obi-Wan took his lover as he was taken. Freed from the
constraints of the body, their loving became increasingly
intense, as tendrils of Force teased at known erogenous zones
and minds said all the words that so affected each other.
Had either man opened his eyes, he would have seen the
blue-green net that surrounded them, flaring and sparking white
lightning at each place Obi-Wan's Force signature touched
Qui-Gon's. They would have seen it expand and surge,
overpowering the light of the lamps and then they would have
seen it draw back, centering in on their minds again.
Finally the net imploded, as each man lost himself in the other
for a time. Each lay on the bed, having been lovingly tended to
and each sat on the bed, having felt the joy of caring for a
loved one. The release was inward, tightening and deepening
their bond, flowing over and into their minds, instead of out
of their bodies. It was beyond ecstasy, it was beyond anything
either had known, and when it was done, neither knew anything
at all.
Qui-Gon woke slowly, back aching slightly from spending an
unknown time slumped over his Padawan's shoulder. He smiled
dreamily, moved to lie next to Obi-wan and summoned the covers
with the Force. As he prepared to sleep, a drowsy mind offered
to massage his back later.
Love you, the Master thought. My beautiful
dancer.
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