The Card
by Astra (satsekhmet@yahoo.com)
Archive: Master/Apprentice. Nesting Place. Anywhere else is
fine too ... just let me know ;->.
Category: PWP, Humor?
Rating: R
Warnings: QG/OW
Spoilers: None
Summary: The plot-bunny for this was mailed to me as a greeting
card from some QG/OW slash fans at a convention. The text of
the card will appear in the Epilogue.
Feedback: Yes, please!
Author's Note: I don't use betas, so all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimers: I don't own the boys (if I did a certain Jedi
Master wouldn't be... well... SPOILER), and this is all for
love, not money.
If two male Jedi being all mushy and passionate about each
other offends you, or if you shouldn't be reading stuff like
this at your age, please skip on to the next post!
Obi-Wan's eyes rolled back in his head as his master's lips
trailed down his body... again. "Master," he moaned, tugging on
the cascading mane of copper and silver hair that draped across
his stomach. When he received no answer, he tugged harder.
"Qui-Gon!"
// Yes, love? // Qui-Gon responsed mentally rather than lifting
his head to talk. He'd just reached a position he was quite
pleased with... as was his young apprentice, judging by his
reaction.
Gasping for breath, Obi-Wan found he couldn't respond to the
query. What Qui-Gon was doing made it virtually impossible to
think, let alone form coherent sentences. But beneath the
raging desire, he was definitely confused. His master hadn't
been so unrelentingly amorous since they'd first become lovers
almost two years ago. In fact, their relationship had settled
into something of a pattern, dictated by the constant demands
of training and missions. Granted, they hadn't been able to get
away for a vacation in quite a while, but....
After several minutes of Qui-Gon's concentrated attention, even
those hazy thoughts were lost as he felt teeth rake gently
across oversensitive flesh, followed immediately by a soothing
tongue. It was too much for the young Jedi and he arched up,
losing himself in the web of ecstasy his lover had expertly
woven around him, helplessing spilling himself into the warm,
welcoming mouth.
As always, Qui-Gon knew exactly where and how to touch him -- a
combination of the increased depth of their bond and plenty of
practice, both of which had followed closely on the heels of
many months of intense fantasies on both their parts -- most of
which Qui-Gon seemed intent on exploring during this short
break between missions. Finally coherent again, Obi-Wan looked
down at the elder Jedi, who was resting his head on his
Padawan's stomach, gazing up at him with a mixture of amusement
and devotion.
"Master... what has gotten into you?" he finally managed.
Qui-Gon nuzzled Obi-Wan's stomach with his beard, eliciting a
soft laugh, then moved up to the head of the bed to take the
younger man in his arms.
"What do you mean, my Padawan?" he purred, radiating a
sensuality few would expect from the outwardly stoic Jedi
master.
Snuggling closer and tucking his head beneath Qui-Gon's chin,
Obi-Wan continued, "You've never been quite like this before
and I was wondering if perhaps you'd... taken something," he
finished awkwardly. He knew that there were probably several
hundred substances -- both natural and artificial -- available.
His thoughts were again interrupted as his master tilted his
chin up and met his concerned look with one that was more than
a little sad.
"Obi-Wan... beloved... have I been neglecting you so badly that
you think..." At Obi-Wan's embarrassed shrug, Qui-Gon pulled
him up, capturing his lips in a kiss that began fiercely
passionate and ended gently, desire and tenderness interwoven.
Stroking his thumb along the younger man's cheekbone, Qui-Gon
waiting until his eyelids fluttered open before continuing.
"You, my delicious Padawan, are all the aphrodisiac I'll ever
need."
Obi-Wan smiled, then laid his head back down on the broad chest
that he so often used as a pillow. "Yes Master... but you must
admit that you've been uncharacteristically adventurous these
past few days."
"Have I?"
// How do you do that? //
// What? //
// Sound innocent and smug at the same time? // "But that
wasn't my point. It's just not like you to..."
"What, Padawan?"
"Well... be so loud, for one thing. Do you even notice the
looks we've been getting from out neighbors? I didn't even know
Philians could blush! It's just a good thing we have a
corner room."
Chuckling, Qui-Gon ran his hands down Obi-Wan's back, letting
his fingers follow the curves of muscle and spine. "I'm sorry
if I've embarrassed you, my heart. I suppose I should have
booked us more secluded lodging before engaging in such a lack
of restraint. But you have not exactly been silent yourself."
"Yes, well... " Obi-Wan admitted, his body flushing with heat
as he remembered his own hoarse shouts, encouraging Qui-Gon to
take him harder, and faster... and again, giving voice to his
passion in a way that would certainly not be acceptable on a
mission or approved of at the Temple. They were bonded and
could make love almost silently -- had many times, in fact,
restricted their empassioned moans and pleas to that bond --
but there was something ... enticing about hearing it aloud.
"Enticing? Hmmm... excellent choice of words," Qui-Gon
responded to the thought, letting his hands slide lower,
cupping and caressing sensitive flesh. Obi-Wan wiggled in
appreciation, then flinched slightly.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon paused, startled.
"Mmm... don't stop. Just... gently. I guess I'm a little sore.
I may be walking funny for a little while at this rate."
Lightening his touch while simultaneously applying the Force to
heal his apprentice, Qui-Gon commented ruefully, "Now that you
mention it, I've discovered a few sort spots of my own..."
"Master?" Obi-Wan certainly hadn't noticed any hesitation when
he...
"Rug burns, I think," the older man continued. "I'm not the
only one who's been 'adventurous' this trip, as I recall."
Obi-Wan blushed, remembering the previous morning. Qui-Gon had
finally relented to his complaints about terminally wrinkled
sheets -- they'd barely left their rooms since they'd arrived
-- and had allowed the inn's domestic droids to disturb their
privacy long enough to set the bedroom to rights. But in the
meantime, he'd grown tired of being denied access to the bed
and had seduced his master on the floor of the main room.
Apparently he'd been a little... enthusiastic.
Laughing out loud, Qui-Gon hugged Obi-Wan tight, then carefully
rolled them over, partially pinning the younger man beneath
him. "That's one word for it, love," remembering how Obi-Wan's
impatient pacing had changed to stalking, and how soon after
that he'd found himself on his back in the middle of the floor,
legs folded up towards his chest, the younger man deftly
lifting him by his hips...
Shivering with delight at the memory, he pressed soft kisses to
Obi-Wan's jawline, nibbling at the cleft in his chin, then
sobered. "But I am sorry if I hurt you. I hadn't realized that
was our last vial. I suppose we'll have to run downstairs and
buy more."
Obi-Wan groaned. "I just hope they have a different clerk on
duty. No one buys that much of that oil just for
massages... especially two people who have pointedly avoided
all potentially strenuous activities outside their rooms."
Smiling again, Qui-Gon ventured, "At least she's been kind
enough to pretend to believe us," and was met with a
disbelieving snort in return.
"Then I suppose I'm the only one she's been giving that knowing
wink to?"
"Well... you are the only one that blushes..."
The Jedi Master jerked in surprise, then tried to roll away as
strong, slim fingers pressed into his ribcage, searching out
his elusive ticklish spots. After a few moments of seemingly
helpless wriggling and stifled laughter, Qui-Gon gasped out,
"Obi-Wan! Please... stop." Grinning, the apprentice immediately
changed his attack to a caress, knowing full well that his
master could've stopped him at any time.
Running his hands over the flat belly up to the solidly muscled
chest, gently tracing old scars with his fingertips, the young
Jedi sighed with contentment. At Qui-Gon's questioning look, he
smiled. "I love to see you like this... relaxed, open... not
having to look over your shoulder. You so rarely get a chance
to just... play."
Qui-Gon stared at his young love solemnly for a moment,
considering, then let a ghost of a smile appear. "Is that truly
still how you see me, my Padawan? I know that much of our time
together is taken up with serious matters, but...." He let
mental images take the place of words -- scattered memories of
their years together -- innocent teasing from Obi-Wan's early
days as an apprentice, like the rock he's given him for his
thirteenth birthday, then more recent, intimate moments, like
the picnic he'd surprised the younger man with on their first
day as lovers, a scene they'd nearly recreated on the first day
of their vacation....
While preparing a light lunch, Obi-Wan had been struck with the
realization that they were alone, far from the restrictions of
the Temple, and had no responsibilities for at least the next
several days... a rare occurrence and one that never failed to
spark his desire for the elder Jedi. Cutting a small fruit into
neat slices, he had arched an elegant eyebrow at his master,
sharing with him a vivid memory of Qui-Gon sprawled on a
carpet, a willing feast for his apprentice. Midnight blue eyes
growing even darker, the Jedi master had immediately taken up
the challenge, slowly shedding tunics and sash, then stretching
out on the cool, smooth surface of the table. As Obi-Wan had
approached, licking suddenly dry lips, Qui-Gon had spoken
quietly, with great seriousness, "Do try to be more careful
with my leggings this time, Padawan." His eyes taking on a
feral gleam, Obi-Wan had made sure that was the last coherent
thought his master had for quite a while.
Qui-Gon's chuckle at Obi-Wan's flushed reaction to the memory
brought the young apprentice out of a light daze. Pressing
closer, twining his legs with his master's, he was gratified to
hear the throaty laugh transform into an even throatier moan as
the older man responded to the rest of his reaction, now
rubbing slowly but insistently against his thigh. Sliding his
hand back down the tall, lean body, fingertips stroking lightly
over swelling flesh, he murmured, "'Teasing' is not quite the
same as 'playing,' Master."
Voice tight, body arching instinctively toward fingers whose
touch remained tantilizing rather than satisfying, Qui-Gon
responded, "You should know, love, being an expert at both."
He'd lost count of the times Obi-Wan had tempted him away from
dry reports and the monotonous glow of datapads for one or the
other over the years... especially during the past two, when
the young man's chorus of 'read it later' had taken on an
unmistakably sensual intensity.
His comment prompted an equally torturous kiss, followed by
Obi-Wan's softly spoken admonition, "Patience, beloved Master.
Haven't you told me many times that each moment presents an
opportunity for a new lesson?"
Groaning as Obi-Wan pressed featherlight kisses down his throat
and onto his chest, Qui-Gon asked, "And this is to be a lesson
in teasing then?"
"Yes, Master. As a complement to your lesson in balance last
night."
Qui-Gon felt a wave of desire wash over him as he remembered.
They'd been kneeling facing each other, having just finished
their evening meditation, fresh from their showers and still
nude, when he'd gotten the idea to try something new. After a
quick application of whatever oil they'd had left, he'd pulled
Obi-Wan forward, spreading the young man's knees and lifting
him up until he could slide slowly inside. Then he'd had them
both lean back, supporting themselves on triads of knees and
left arms, bodies joined at a precarious but extremely
pleasurable angle. They'd moved together slowly at first, but
soon discovered a rhythm that wouldn't upset their delicate
balance, then let their free hands work together to bring the
apprentice to ecstasy at the same time as the master.
Afterwards, Obi-Wan had commented that it had been like making
love with one hand tied behind his back.
"Are you trying to say you did not enjoy last night?" Qui-Gon
asked, his breathing growing unsteady.
"Why, no, Qui-Gon. Are you trying to say you aren't enjoying
this?" came the reply as Obi-Wan slid further down his master's
body, lips and fingers still moving lightly over his skin,
almost daring him to deny his rapidly heightening need.
"Obi-Wan..." came the familiar low growl in response.
The young Jedi nearly purred with the sensory memory of other
times and places he'd heard Qui-Gon say his name in that tone.
Traveling all over the galaxy with your lover did have it's
advantages when it came to seeking out unusual locations and
circumstances.
Abruptly changing tactics, he yanked Qui-Gon's night leggings
out of the way and swallowed his master whole, clasping the
slim hips tightly and grateful that the more casual clothing
lacked the restrictive fastenings of their formal outfits...
cords that tangled under trembling fingers had proven to be his
bane on more than one occasion.
Qui-Gon gasped, pushing down his shields as the sudden sensory
overload brought him quickly to the edge. Feeling Obi-Wan do
the same, then slip into a close mental embrace, he let himself
fall, knowing that as long as he and Obi-Wan were together, he
was safe.
( Epilogue )
This little piece of lighthearted PWP was based on a greeting
card picked out by a couple of the ladies on the Qui-Gon
Discussion List (http://home.att.net/~qui-gonlist/) -- and dear
Ponytail, who got, then shared, the giggles -- and sent to me
to inspire to write just such a story, which I did once I got
up off the floor and stopped laughing so hard:
Top Ten Signs We're Having Too Much Sex
10. The neighbors blush when they see us.
9. We're starting to walk funny.
8. Two words: Rug burns.
7. Our sheets are rarely wrinkle-free.
6. The clerk at the local pharmacy is "on to us."
5. You're thinking about putting this card down and reading the
rest of it later so we can have sex.
4. Our candlelight dinners have been replaced by daylight sprawls
on the kitchen table.
3. We can do it with one hand tied behind out backs... wait a
minute... we have!
2. We've run out of unusual places to have sex.
And, the Number One Sign We're Having Too Much Sex is...
We've started wearing elastic waistbands, just in case.
Thanks for the challenge, ladies!
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