Sequel to: Nyotan Nights (It shouldn't be essential to have
read the first story to enjoy this one. Just know that Obi-Wan
learned a particular story of dancing and excellent muscular
control while on a mission to Nyota.)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Archive: M&A, Rauhnee's archive list, my page
htt://ww.shadowynd.com/~elaynas_den/index.html
Category: PWP
Spoilers: Nope.
Feedback: Makes me shiver with delight.
Thanks to my MA listsibs for their quick encouragement to my
somewhat inebriated ramblings about this story, especially to
Kimdy for the 'hiding' idea.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas. Just having
mind-blowing fun with them, not making money.
"The Gleffian rulers have total control over their people.
Unhappiness among the populace isn't a relevant factor in
negotiations between the Gleffia and Altooine."
Qui-Gon shook his head at Mace's declaration as he opened the
door to the quarters he shared with his Padawan. "You're wrong,
Mace. Yes, they appear to have total control, but members of
the ruling family have been deposed and replaced with more
popular members. The current Empress cannot ignore what effect
the negotiations might have on her people." Gesturing, he
added, "Sit down, let me see if Obi-Wan has anything planned
for dinner."
The Councilor frowned at the small living area. "Hasn't your
furniture been rearranged?"
Pausing to look, Qui-Gon agreed, "Yes...maybe Obi-Wan needed
space to practice katas." The couch, armchair and low table
were usually grouped closer to the center of the room, creating
a cozy arrangement for reading and discussion. Now, all the
furniture was pushed back to the walls. Huge, plush pillows
that Qui-Gon couldn't recall seeing were placed on the floor
near the couch. The vibrant swirls of colors on the pillow
contrasted with the room's subdued decor.
"Why didn't he go to the gymnasium? The free space is still
ridiculously small for a proper kata."
With a perplexed expression, Qui-Gon said, "Let me find him."
He strode toward their bedroom, sliding the door open and
stepping inside, almost bumping into his Padawan, who was
apparently on the verge of entering the living area. "Oh,
Obi-Wan. I brought Mace back. We were discussing our next
mission and Mace has some interesting insights. I thought we
could have a beneficial conversation over dinner. Were are you
about to go out?" Qui-Gon asked, belatedly noticing that
Obi-Wan was wearing his Jedi cloak, an unusual piece of attire
for their rooms.
"Master, I asked this morning if you had any commitments
tonight and you said no. I thought we would have a quiet night
together."
Qui-Gon shrugged helplessly while replying, "Mace and I got
talking..." He trailed off, realizing by Obi-Wan's studiously
blank face that he'd blundered badly. "Did you make plans for
us?"
"Yes, Master, I made plans for us. Very special plans. But
never mind. If you would like to discuss politics with Mace,
the two of you can eat the dinner I've prepared. I believe I
will change and eat with the other Padawans, if you don't
mind." Obi-Wan was the epitome of politeness as he stated his
plans.
Qui-Gon was confused by his Padawan's request, as it was odd
for his dedicated student to decline any chance to become
further prepared for a mission. "Obi-Wan, if you've made plans,
I can ask Mace to leave," he offered. As an afterthought, he
asked, "Why do you have to change? And why are you wearing your
cloak?"
"No, Master, that's fine. I wouldn't want to interrupt your
evening. And I have to change because I'm not wearing my normal
clothes. I put my cloak on when I heard Mace's voice. I didn't
think you'd want him to see me in this attire." With a supple
roll of his shoulders and a slight arch to his back, Obi-Wan's
cloak dropped from his body, leaving him standing in blue gauze
pants, slung low on his hips, with elastic drawing the fabric
tight to his ankles. Three rows of shiny silver coins hung from
the waistband. The matching bolero also was lavishly decorated
with coins. His feet were bare and Qui-Gon noted for the first
time that Obi-Wan had redone his braid with a dozen small
silver beads spaced at regular intervals.
Obi-Wan was silent as Qui-Gon made his inspection, then turned
his back, revealing how well the gauze clung to his tight
buttocks. Another nonchalant shoulder roll and the bolero fell
to the floor. Turning his head to look at Qui-Gon, only the
padawan braid covering his naked back, Obi-Wan asked, "Weren't
you going to visit with Mace? He'll wonder what's happened to
you."
"I'll get rid of him," Qui-Gon promised hoarsely. He didn't
wait for Obi-Wan's reaction, pivoting to exit the bedroom. Mace
was seated on the couch, casually thumbing through Qui-Gon's
datapadd on the Glefian mission. "Mace, I'm sorry, but Obi-Wan
and I have plans. We'll have to resume this discussion some
other time."
Mace's brows arched inquisitively. "Are they important plans?
I'll be extremely busy for the next few days. We may not have
another chance to talk before you leave."
After a brief internal debate on possible excuses, Qui-Gon
opted for honesty. "Mace, I can talk politics or I can have
incredibly hot sex with Obi-Wan. Send me any notes you think
will be helpful."
At that response, Mace's brows arched so high they almost hit
the top of his head. "Really, Qui-Gon," he intoned, "there is
no passion. There is serenity."
The two had been friends for decades since both were initiates.
They had shared difficult missions, argued intensely over the
proper role of the Jedi, and laughed loudly together during
good times. Qui-Gon knew Mace well, and knew both what the
Councilor found truly offensive and when he was being
deliberately difficult. "Mace, get out."
The other Master was still chuckling as Qui-Gon shoved him out
the door before scurrying to the bedroom. Once again, he met
Obi-Wan leaving the room. "He's gone."
"Good." Obi-Wan slid his hands around Qui-Gon's neck, pulling
his head down into a passionate kiss. It was unclear whether
Obi-Wan lifted himself or Qui-Gon pulled him up, but it took
only a brief second before Obi-Wan's legs were locked around
his Master's hips with Qui-Gon's hands settled firmly on his
buttocks, kneading the taut cheeks. Obi-Wan's arms wrapped
around Qui-Gon's back as his cloak covered their bodies. Their
tongues fought not for domination but to determine who could
explore the other's mouth more hungrily, each craving the taste
of his partner.
The need for a full breath eventually broke the two apart.
Obi-Wan leaned back in Qui-Gon's arms. "I'm glad you
comprehended the subtle nuances of what I was attempting to
convey, Master. I would hate to be eating in the dining hall
with the other Padawans while you enjoyed a scintillating
conversation with Mace."
Shifting his grip so he could hold Obi-Wan with one hand,
Qui-Gon let the other drift up Obi-Wan's back and around to his
torso, stopping on the bolero, fingers splayed. The middle
finger of his hand unerringly found the silver coin directly
over Obi-Wan's nipple, circling the outside edge. Obi-Wan
hissed gratefully as the cool metal and airy fabric were
pressed on his distended nipple.
"There's nothing subtle about how sexy you look in this outfit.
This is new, isn't it?" Qui-Gon asked. "I like the silver
coins."
"Mate Bunny sent it. You rather destroyed the last one." There
was no heat in Obi-Wan's accusation.
"You were teasing me, Obi-Wan. Extremely slow teasing."
The mild reprimand was met by Obi-Wan's grin. "That wasn't
teasing, Mate. I was simply following the traditional dictates
of Nyotan cultures. Which reminds me," he said, as he unlocked
his legs and pushed away, forcing Qui-Gon to drop him to the
floor, "dinner first, then dancing. We wouldn't want to be
disrespectful when celebrating another culture."
Qui-Gon groaned. "You're going to make me wait again, aren't
you?"
A last quick kiss, followed by a "Yes" whispered to Qui-Gon's
lips. "Now take off your cloak and go sit down."
Numbly obeying Obi-Wan's dictates, Qui-Gon hung his cloak by
the door before settling himself on the ground, sitting on a
plush pillow, his back resting against the couch. He stretched
his legs out in front of him. Obi-Wan kneeled and began
unlatching each boot buckle. /I won't rush this, I will allow
him to be slow/ Qui-Gon mentally chanted to himself, well aware
that his boots had never taken so long to remove.
Qui-Gon sought desperately for his center. His apprentice loved
these Nyotan nights, relished the secret preparations for his
Master's delight, reveled in heightening Qui-Gon's desire
before satisfying their mutual lust with lengthy love-making.
Qui-Gon's guilt when he ripped the delicate material of
Obi-Wan's costume beyond repair had been immense. The two
months since their last Nyotan night had felt like an eternity.
While being together was always wonderful, these nights were a
special tradition for them since their trade mission to that
lovely planet.
Boots removed, Obi-Wan considerately carried them off to the
bedroom before heading to the kitchen area. When he came back
out, he was bearing a large platter. He sat on a pillow next to
Qui-Gon, curling his legs underneath, placing the tray on the
floor in front of him.
Surveying the platter's contents, Qui-Gon saw a collection of
different foods, fresh fruit cut in bite-sized pieces,
vegetables cooked in spices, meat marinated with honey, and
crispy slices of bread. "Really, Obi-Wan, I thought the Nyotans
ate in courses. You appear to have brought everything at once."
"I believed it was wise to make some adjustments. I didn't want
to waste time walking back and forth to the kitchen. Not when
you've demonstrated that your patience is so very limited."
"A good apprentice learns from mistakes and rectifies them,"
Qui-Gon mock pontificated.
Snuggling together, the two fed each other, alternating the
tartness of the fruit with the tang of the spiced vegetables,
breaking bread to scoop up the meat and honey. They used no
utensils, nibbling on fingers, mixing the taste of their skin
with the flavor of the food.
Obi-Wan insisted on serving Qui-Gon the greater share of the
food and the Master accepted, realizing his Padawan didn't like
to dance on an overfed belly. They talked casually but lightly
between bites. No discussion of lessons, no discourses on
Republic politics, no preparations for their next missions. By
unvoiced agreement, their topics were limited to simple tales
of events around the Academy, news from Mate Bunny about Nyota,
exchanging endearments and making flattering remarks.
When the last piece was cleaned from the platter, the final
blend of spice and honey licked from each other's fingers,
Obi-Wan rose while Qui-Gon marveled at his grace. He didn't put
a hand on the couch to lift himself from the curled position,
merely rippled his body up to a standing position.
Obi-Wan padded off to the kitchen as Qui-Gon frankly ogled his
sauntering walk. His stride was captivating enough in his Jedi
leggings and boots; with his waist bared and his skin visible
through the delicate fabric, the slinkiness of his strut was
devastating. He returned with a warm, wet towel, cleaning their
hands and mouths. Surprisingly, he dropped a fistful of paper
bills and metal coins acquired from different planets in
Qui-Gon's lap.
"Props, Mate, props. You can figure out what to do with them?"
"Yes, Mate. I believe I can manage this task by myself."
Qui-Gon contemplated the coins as Obi-Wan poured him a liqueur,
setting the glass by his Master. Obi-Wan lowered the lights
before he moved to the comm console and started a Nyotan song
playing. The coins were secreted away before Obi-Wan turned to
face Qui-Gon, strolling to the center of the room.
The music began slow, a peaceful, gentle arrangement. With his
head bowed, Obi-Wan stood angled slightly away from Qui-Gon,
knees bent, one leg in front, only the pointed toes of that
foot touching the ground. He began shimmying, softly rippling
his muscles, the sound of the tinkling coins accompanying him.
The gauzy fabric drifted loosely in response to his movement
and Qui-Gon realized that the pants were slit on each side from
hip to ankle, revealing flashes of his exquisitely shaped
thighs and calves.
The beat of the music increased and Obi-Wan's torso swayed from
side to side, his arms rising to stretch over his head as his
back arched. One leg rose, knee to chest, unfolding until his
ankle almost touched his ear. As Obi-Wan paused to hold that
position for a measure of the music, Qui-Gon gulped and took a
hasty drink of the alcohol, almost burning his throat at the
sight of his apprentice spread wide for him. With extreme
control, Obi-Wan leaned back until his hands met the ground,
shifting his weight until his body rested on his hands and his
legs were split in the air.
With a crash of cymbals, the music accelerated. Obi-Wan flipped
his other leg over to land nimbly before following the rhythm
of the music around the room, a whirling dervish combining the
supple Nyotan dance moves with his gymnastic leaps and jumps.
He pirouetted in place, one leg and the braid snapping around
his body, flipped forward into the splits on the ground, rolled
to his back using the strength of his calves to leap up. His
back to Qui-Gon, he circled to face his Master while performing
a rapid series of isolations, first the head, then the
shoulders, torso, and hips. Qui-Gon realized he was seeing
Obi-Wan's own combination of his Jedi training and the Nyotan
dance, a choreographed fusion of masculine energy and sensual
elegance. The moves were tight and controlled to accommodate
the small space, but Obi-Wan was expansive in his gestures,
offering his body and his performance to his audience. This
creation was uniquely Obi-Wan, designed for Qui-Gon's viewing.
Wholly for Qui-Gon.
The music became less frenetic though the tempo stayed
demanding as Obi-Wan approached Qui-Gon. In the dimmed lights,
he was a luminous being, glowing with the love in his eyes and
a fine sheen of perspiration coating his chest and face. His
hips were rolling with the beat. "Did you wish to reward my
performance, Mate?" was his provoking comment, as his hands
drifted up and down his chest, stroking his bare flesh. Qui-Gon
swallowed, desperately wanting to be the one stroking his skin,
but accepting his current role of watcher.
Qui-Gon folded the paper bills lengthwise, raising to one knee.
His hands shook as he slipped the money into the loose
waistband by one hip. The motions of Obi-Wan's feet were
infinitesimally small as he swiveled in place to present
Qui-Gon with his other hip. Qui-Gon risked a brief kiss to
Obi-Wan's navel before sliding another bill under the elastic
as Obi-Wan's hips continued their frantic twitching. He was
rewarded by the presentation of Obi-Wan's back to him, and was
fast to press a kiss to the supple skin before tucking another
bill into his lover's pants.
"Coins, Mate?" Obi-Wan inquired sultrily as he gazed down as
the kneeling man.
Falling back on the pillow, Qui-Gon spread his arms and legs
wide. "Find them," he dared. He realized with amusement that
Obi-Wan had timed this encounter perfectly as the cadence of
the music slowed to its first soft pace.
Obi-Wan dropped to his knees behind Qui-Gon's spread legs. His
body was gently undulating, his muscles continuing to ripple.
He leaned forward, asking, "Maybe in my favorite place? Close
to your heart." Clasping his hands behind him, he nuzzled
between Qui-Gon's tunics, separating the fabric by burying his
face between the inner and out layers, locating the coin
resting over Qui-Gon's heart. His teeth bit down on the coin,
pulling it away from the fabric, letting it drop on the floor.
A similar search on the other side yielded nothing. Obi-Wan
stretched, arms over his head, hands clasped, head rolling,
while he pondered. The bolero swung with his motion and Qui-Gon
licked his lips, patiently waiting the opportunity to taste the
nipples revealed and covered. With a smile, Obi-Wan nuzzled the
other side of Qui-Gon's chest, this time between the inner
tunic and his silken flesh. He cherished his Master's nipple
with a lingering lick before removing the coin pressed to his
bare skin.
Obi-Wan rested one hand on his Master's bulge, feeling
carefully. Mischievously, he noted, "Oh yes, I do believe
there's something waiting for me." He flipped up the tunics.
Qui-Gon assisted by raising his hips as Obi-Wan pulled down the
leggings to reveal the remainder of the coins. The cascade of
silver fell to the ground as Qui-Gon's erection sprang free.
Ignoring the money, Obi-Wan slithered until his body rested on
the ground, shoulders between Qui-Gon's thighs. He gathered the
remnants of honey from the tray, anointing Qui-Gon's cock with
the sticky fluid. He bent himself to the task of cleaning
Qui-Gon with long licks and kisses.
Groaning loudly, Qui-Gon buried his hands in Obi-Wan's short
hair. He thrust his hips into Obi-Wan's mouth, caught between
the plump softness of the pillows and Obi-Wan's wet heat. To
his embarrassment, he couldn't last long. Obi-Wan's dance had
teased him too much. He'd bided his time, watching, counseling
himself to patience, mesmerized both by Obi-Wan's beauty and
the knowledge of how many hours his apprentice must have spent,
preparing his dance solely for Qui-Gon's pleasure. The love and
dedication radiating from his apprentice overwhelmed Qui-Gon's
heart. His emotions shattered, the warm, flexible tongue
rolling around his crown while Obi-Wan sucked hard and deftly
fondled his balls was too exciting for his physical control. He
arched his hips high, giving a strangled groan as his seed
flooded Obi-Wan's mouth.
Obi-Wan diligently finished cleaning Qui-Gon's softened penis,
ensuring that every drop of honey was removed before sitting
up. Licking the last drops of come from his lips, he murmured,
"Really Qui-Gon, applause is usually sufficient. The finest
elixir in the universe is surely overpayment."
For his teasing remark, Qui-Gon yanked Obi-Wan close and kissed
him hard, bruising his succulent lips. "You were born to dance
for me, my Mate."
"Only you, my Mate."
Satisfied with the ready agreement, Qui-Gon cupped Obi-Wan's
cock. He wasn't fully erect, the concentration on his
choreography distracting his passion. They kissed while
Qui-Gon's massage brought Obi-Wan to full stiffness. "And how
may I return the favor?"
"Have you been practicing what I taught you? Will you let me -
?"
"Yes. Oh yes. Anything for you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon responded
fiercely. He kicked his leggings completely off his legs and
tossed his tunics away. Turning over, he positioned himself,
knees on the pillow, chest on the couch.
Obi-Wan stripped himself as he appreciated the view, Qui-Gon's
strong back, tight buttocks, his long legs parted. He was
dazzled by his Master's instant acceptance, that superior
combination of intellect and exquisite male beauty, all
available for Obi-Wan. He stroked his hands down Qui-Gon's
spine, cupping his buttocks, allowing Qui-Gon time to loosen
himself. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, my Mate. I'm ready."
Settling between the spread thighs, Obi-Wan gripped Qui-Gon's
hips, his cock nudging at the opening between those perfect
cheeks. He sank the head of his cock into the welcoming
channel. "Qui-Gon, you're too tight. I need to prepare you with
my fingers."
"I know how tight I am," his Master growled. "I want to be
tight for you. Take me, Obi-Wan. You thought of this all those
hours practicing your dance, didn't you. Take me as hard and
passionately as you practiced."
Overwhelmed by Qui-Gon's command, Obi-Wan shoved his cock into
Qui-Gon's heat. Their pleased moans echoed in the room as
Obi-Wan gradually thrust into Qui-Gon, fighting for every inch
as Qui-Gon controlled the muscles of his body, firmly squeezing
Obi-Wan's cock.
Brushing his hair to one side, Qui-Gon twisted his head to
stare at Obi-Wan, his eyes catching Obi-Wan's and burning them
with the intensity of his gaze. "More. I want everything."
Obi-Wan moaned with wonder and responded with the total
strength of his body, the toes of his flexed feet digging in
the carpeting while his knees pushed into the pillow. His hands
clasped Qui-Gon's shoulders, fingers digging indentations in
the smooth skin as he used his grip to increase the force of
his thrusts. Obi-Wan plunged recklessly into Qui-Gon's body
with a rhythmic ferocity that matched the aggressive power of
his dance.
Just as roughly, Qui-Gon shoved back, encouraging Obi-Wan to
increase his efforts, hurtling them into a world where nothing
existed but the melding of their bodies, warm skin sliding over
silken flesh, eyes meeting until neither could focus. Qui-Gon
pleaded, "More," and Obi-Wan responded, his buttock muscles
tightening as his driving hips pounded into Qui-Gon's body with
even greater vigor. A low scream of pleasure escaped Obi-Wan's
lips as he climaxed, reaching to grasp and pump Qui-Gon's
penis, lost as much in the physical gratification of his orgasm
rocketing through his senses as in the emotional satisfaction
of feeling his Master come in his hand.
Neither was fully conscious as they turned and snuggled on the
plush pillows, the thumping of their hearts slowing, lazy
kisses landing on random patches of skin, hands touching and
caressing.
Idly tracing an imaginary circle around Qui-Gon's nipple with
one finger, Obi-Wan finally disturbed the silence by asking,
"How did you persuade Mace to leave?"
"I told him the truth."
"The truth?" Obi-Wan queried, his body too incredibly relaxed
for his mind to comprehend Qui-Gon's comment.
"That I'd rather have incredibly hot sex with you than talk
politics."
Shocked, Obi-Wan yelped, "You didn't!" He was aware Qui-Gon
could be bluntly honest with his old friends, but even so, he
was surprised at his Master's frank admission.
"Ummm, I did. Though I suppose I did lie," Qui-Gon mused
between nibbling on Obi-Wan's lips.
Obi-Wan frowned as he responded flatly, "Don't tell me that
wasn't incredibly hot sex."
"It wasn't." Qui-Gon's hand drifted delicately down Obi-Wan's
cheek as their eyes held, Qui-Gon's expression affirming his
sincerity. "It was the purest expression of love I have ever
been privileged to receive. You overwhelm me with your
generosity, my beloved Obi-Wan."
"Oh. Well." Obi-Wan was clearly mollified. His eyes sparkled
with crystal tears for a second as he considered Qui-Gon's
declaration, too overwhelmed to find the words to express his
own love. Instead, he promised, "Only until my next dance,"
kissing Qui-Gon desperately to seal his vow. His impish streak
reasserted itself as he separated their lips, grinning.
Rippling to a standing position, he held out his hand to
Qui-Gon. "I'd hate to make you lie to a Councilor, my Mate.
Maybe we'd better retire to the bedroom and have that
incredibly hot sex now."
Qui-Gon rose and in one smooth movement, swung Obi-Wan into his
arms. Obi-Wan laughingly shrieked at the unexpected act,
clutching his Master. He was smaller than Qui-Gon, but large
enough to be unaccustomed to the sensation of being carried.
Qui-Gon returned the grin. "One night of incredibly hot sex as
requested, my Mate."
Winding his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, Obi-Wan whispered,
"Yes, Mate," before their lips met in a fierce kiss as Qui-Gon
carried him into the bedroom, minds, bodies, hearts and souls
in perfect harmony.
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