Summary: Qui-Gon is "suffering" from a nasty virus
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: If George would do this stuff, we wouldn't have
to. Suing gets you nothing but my computer and my library and
it's really not worth it unless you want a bunch of history
books and Norton Anthologies.
Feedback: Is more than welcomed; let me know what you honestly
think about this…I'm afraid it's too weird to post, but
I'm posting it anyway with assurances from my beta and
roommate, jambery.
Warnings: This is really weird.
Note: I know where the bunny came from, but I don't know where
the thought that led to the bunny came from. The bunny comes
from a discussion we had in my freshman chemistry class two
years ago about a depression medication in the '70s that caused
some of the people who took it to have orgasms when they
sneezed (and my psych major roommate tells me it's still
available on the market because it's such a small percentage of
people). All I have to say is that I was having a very hard
time falling asleep and the bunny attacked.
The Morvra virus was a relatively new infection circulating
the galaxy. It was thought by researches to have been
originally manufactured by those in the pleasure industry, but
somehow, contact with a cold or flu type virus caused it to
mutate beyond it's designer's intentions.
It started innocently enough. A sniffle here, a runny nose,
itchy eyes. But all too soon it progressed into something much
more vicious. The sneezing fits started.
Luckily, Qui-Gon had been back at the Temple when it had
reached that stage. To still be locked in negotiations and have
to deal with one of the side effects of the virus was not a
prospect he looked forward to.
As the infection progressed, the sneezing fits became more and
more violent, eventually leading up to mind shattering, brain
melting, incredibly intense orgasms. Coupled with the fever,
Qui-Gon had been bed ridden for three days, riding out the
waves of intense pleasure, alternately sweltering and
freezing.
That morning, the fever had finally broken, allowing the
exhausted Master to fall into a restful sleep, and his equally
tired Padawan transferred him to his seldom used bed in his
former room.
Obi-Wan stood in the doorway of his former room-he and Qui-Gon
had been lovers for just over a year, since his 20th birthday.
He only used his bed alone if he came home late from studying
and didn't want to disturb the older man. From his vantage
point Obi-Wan watched his Master try to coax out one last
sneeze to complete the cycle, to bring himself to completion so
he could rest.
"You know, Master," Obi-Wan said, stepping into the room and
taking a seat in the chair at the bedside. "The research says
that when they start getting stuck it's almost over."
"How com-comforting." Qui-Gon's breath wavered as the familiar
and tormenting pre-sneeze feeling washed over him. He leaned
into the feeling, only to have it fade, leaving him painfully
aroused and frustrated.
"Won't you let me help?" Obi-Wan asked, wanting to help
alleviate some of his Master's suffering.
Qui-Gon shook his head no. Don't want you-catching-this
he managed to get out around breathy pants, only to have the
sensation fade once more.
"Hardly a concern of mine, Master. I've been at your bedside
for three days now," Obi-Wan argued as he watched his Master
struggle again. He caressed the man's cheek, surreptitiously
checking for fever, but also giving a bit of comfort with
physical touch. Please let me help?
Qui-Gon was sufficiently desperate at that point to concede to
his well-meaning apprentice. He nodded weakly, and watched as
Obi-Wan rapidly undressed, throwing his clothes into a
corner.
Obi-Wan threw back the covers over his Master, and straddled
his hips, wiggling enticingly against Qui-Gon's straining
erection. It was easier to keep the Master naked and covered
with blankets than to strip him out of sleep pants every time
the sneezes caught up with him.
"That's not helping much you know," Qui-Gon responded to his
apprentice's shimmying as he bucked up against the waiting
entrance.
Obi-Wan smiled as the formerly fever bright blue eyes shone
with a new kind of fire. "Are you sure?" He leaned over and
pressed soft kisses to Qui-Gon's face, carefully avoiding the
tender nose, as much to torment and tease as to spare the man
any more pain from contact with the chapped area.
"I thought you were supposed to be helping?" Qui-Gon
asked.
Obi-Wan didn't answer. He lifted himself up on his knees, and
slowly lowered himself onto Qui-Gon, stretching himself with
the Force.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed when Obi-Wan settled back,
full.
The apprentice took his Padawan braid in hand and leaned
slightly forward. "Come for me, love," he whispered to Qui-Gon
as he proceeded to stroke the man's nose lightly with the tail
end of the braid.
Qui-Gon clamped his hands on Obi-Wan's hips so hard there
would be bruises the next day as he sneezed.
Obi-Wan felt the waves of Qui-Gon's orgasm wash over him, but
the hitching in Qui-Gon's breath told him he wasn't done, so
Obi-Wan clamped down on his own arousal to ride out the
storm.
Qui-Gon didn't soften inside him as the sneezes kept coming,
each one driving him farther and farther inside Obi-Wan,
pushing them both to the brink of pleasure versus pain.
"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan shouted when an enormous final sneeze
triggered his Master's orgasm, thus causing his. He collapsed,
boneless atop Qui-Gon. A moment later he'd recovered enough to
pull the covers over the top of them.
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