Notes: someone asked what kind of cookies Obi-Wan was making in
the January 11th snapshot and I gave a silly answer. This is
the longer version. It's kind of a Snapshots AU story. Thanks
to michelle and Destina for betaing -all remaining problems are
a figment of your imagination <waving of hands>.
Qui-Gon walked slowly, matching his pace to that of his former
master. They turned the corner, arriving in the hall where Qui-
Gon's quarters were located. He stopped and looked suspiciously
down at the ancient Jedi at his side.
"Perhaps carry me you should," suggested Yoda calmly.
Qui-Gon had to bend down in order to hear him over the din made
by the crowd of young people milling about, the highest
concentration of them being right in front of Qui-Gon's door.
Qui-Gon dropped to one knee and held his cupped hand near the
floor. Yoda stepped onto the fashioned stair, then up to
Qui-Gon's leg and finally his shoulders. Qui-Gon stood as the
old master settled himself. The whole manoeuvre took only
seconds and was performed with the ease and grace of long
familiarity. As Qui-Gon began to walk, one three-fingered hand
wrapped around the tail that held Qui-Gon's hair out of his
face.
"That still isn't a handle, Master," Qui-Gon growled.
"I do not want to fall. Crowded with many beings your hall is.
All tall."
"Yes, I wonder what could be going on," replied Qui-Gon dryly.
"Only one way to find out there is."
"Indeed," said Qui-Gon, pushing his way through the throng. He
was almost at the door when the smell hit him, confirming his
suspicions. Master Yoda always seemed to know when Obi-Wan was
making cookies. Somehow he always managed to garner the lion's
share of them, usually while they were still warm. Today, he'd
obviously wrangled the invitation to tea with his former
padawan with an ulterior motive.
But no matter. Qui-Gon could feel his heart begin to beat
rapidly and his annoyance with Master Yoda faded as he imagined
what he would find on the other side of his door. Obi-Wan would
be stripped down to his leggings and his light under-tunic. He
would be flushed, sweating slightly, with flour and sugar
dusted here and there on him. The place would smell twice as
good as the hall did. And if he could ditch his former Master,
Obi-Wan would feed him warm cookies in all sorts of imaginative
ways. Which of course would lead to things even better than
cookies.
"Tell me something, Master," said Qui-Gon as he palmed open the
door.
"Hmmm?"
"How do you always know when Obi-Wan is baking?"
"Excellent nose I have, Padawan."
"Your quarters are several levels above this one and the
Council Chambers are at the very top of the tower," Qui-Gon
protested.
"In 800 years learned to keep some things secret, I have."
"Which just means you aren't going to tell me," said Qui-Gon.
"Smart my padawan is."
"Former padawan," Qui-Gon said absently as he closed the door,
ignoring the murmurs filling the hall. He stood still a moment,
taking a deep breath and holding it as if to absorb the
wonderful smell in through his lungs. He chuckled as he
realised that Master Yoda was doing the same thing.
Bending again, to one knee, Qui-Gon gave his former Master a
hand getting down. He was still kneeling when Obi-Wan came in
from the kitchen. Obi-Wan was dressed exactly as Qui-Gon had
imagined and he was wiping his hands on a small towel which was
hooked through his belt.
"I thought I heard the door," Obi-Wan said before bowing
towards the small Jedi. "Master Yoda."
"Obi-Wan," said Yoda, leaning on his stick, his ears twitching
forward, "baking today?"
"As you well know, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan turned toward Qui-Gon,
a small smile dancing across his features. "And you don't have
to beg, Master -I've made them especially for you."
Qui-Gon chuckled as he stood.
"Many cookies you have made?" asked Yoda hopefully.
"Of course, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied, going back into the
kitchen.
"Like him I do," said Yoda, turning back to Qui-Gon. "I foresee
great things for his future."
"Is that foresight or the cookies talking?"
"Hrmph." Master Yoda's ears bent against his head and he turned
his back on Qui-Gon, looking toward the kitchen. Qui-Gon
cleared his throat, stifling his chuckle, but Yoda's back
stiffened as though he knew his former padawan found him
amusing. Obi-Wan returned to the common room before any more
could be said.
"Here you go, Master Yoda."
"More there are?" the little Jedi asked, looking somewhat
disappointedly at the plate stacked with cookies that Obi-Wan
gave to him.
"Yes, but for the others. If you go out there with all of them
and don't share, I don't think they'll let you leave."
"Hmmm. Point you may have." His ears curled slightly forward
and his eyes lit with humour. "You wish me to leave now, do you
not?"
"Yes, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied with a grin.
"Very well." He turned back to his former padawan. "Owe me tea
you do," he said, pointing the walking stick at Qui-Gon.
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon ushered Yoda out the door, shaking his head and shoving
the extra cookies along with the small Master. He closed the
door against the loud protest from the waiting padawans as Yoda
made his way through the throng with the large plate of
cookies.
"What's the matter, Master?"
"I just wonder how he always knows when you're making cookies."
"Who -Master Yoda?"
"Yes."
"I call him."
"What?"
"I call him and let him know."
"Why that little-"
"Master!"
"I asked him and he made it sound like some sort of ancient
Jedi secret that he wasn't going to share."
"Ah, so that's where you get it."
"What?"
"You do exactly the same thing."
"I do no-" Qui-Gon broke off as he remembered several occasions
where he had done something similar with Obi-Wan. "Why
are we talking about Master Yoda when there are fresh cookies
to be had?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.
Obi-Wan grinned at him, letting him know that he wasn't fooled,
but nonetheless would go along with the subject change. He
motioned Qui-Gon towards the couch and went to the kitchen for
a plate of cookies. Qui-Gon breathed in deeply again, savouring
the smell and anticipating Obi-Wan's return. His stomach
growled just as Obi-Wan came back into the room. Chuckling,
Obi-Wan straddled his legs, letting their groins settle
carefully together.
"I made your favourite," Obi-Wan said softly as he popped a
chunk of the cookie into Qui-Gon's mouth.
Qui-Gon groaned around the cookie, closing his eyes to savour
the taste as the warm caramel chunks melted further in the heat
of his mouth. Obi-Wan rolled his hips and Qui-Gon groaned again
as heat and hardness moved against him.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan picked up a cookie and began to eat
it, making a show of nibbling around the edges. Obi-Wan's even
white teeth sank into the soft cookie and he licked his lips
far longer than Qui-Gon believed was really necessary. Closing
his eyes, Obi-Wan made an appreciative moaning sound. Qui-Gon
echoed it and stretched slightly, his hardening shaft pressing
along Obi-Wan's, seeking the heat.
Qui-Gon reached out and pulled Obi-Wan's mouth to his own,
pressing his tongue between his padawan's lips. He could taste
the flavour of the cookie lingering in Obi-Wan's mouth and
beneath that, the honeyed sweetness of Obi-Wan himself. Panting
through his nose to avoid breaking the kiss, Qui-Gon was
further enmeshed in the combined scents of cookie and padawan
-oatmeal, coconut and caramel twining with honey, spice and
musk.
Pressing Obi-Wan forward, Qui-Gon grabbed his bottom and
brought their erections together once more. He softened his
grip, letting Obi-Wan shift back slightly before bringing them
together again. Obi-Wan's knees pressed tightly against the
outside of his thighs as Obi-Wan began to undulate with the
rhythm Qui-Gon was setting. Obi-Wan's arms came up around
Qui-Gon's neck and the kiss deepened. Qui-Gon began to push his
hips off the couch, meeting Obi-Wan's movements. He slid his
hands between their bodies, fumbling with the fastenings of
their trousers. Obi-Wan moaned into his mouth as his fingers
moved against Obi-Wan's hardness. A few moments of fumbling,
during which neither man broke their kiss or stopped their
rhythmic rolling, and Qui-Gon had freed both their penises.
Obi-Wan's mouth pulled away with a gasp as their erections met,
flesh to flesh. Pressing his hips tighter against Qui-Gon's,
Obi- Wan threw his head back and increased the pace. Qui-Gon
craned forward to suck at the throat left open and exposed to
him, revelling in the speeding pulse that throbbed against his
tongue, and the vibrations as Obi-Wan moaned. Qui-Gon held
Obi-Wan close, their erections pressing tightly together.
Warmth flooded against Qui-Gon's belly, the scent of Obi-Wan's
completion flooding through him, sparking his own orgasm. When
the pleasure began to recede, leaving his brain functioning
once again, Qui-Gon found himself still reclining on the couch,
Obi-Wan lying pressed against him. He crossed his hands around
Obi-Wan's back and drew the warm body tightly against his
chest, squeezing tightly.
"The cookies are excellent, as always," Qui-Gon said with a
small chuckle.
Obi-Wan pressed his hands against Qui-Gon's chest, mouth
quirking into a half smile.
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