Archive: Yes to M_A, others please ask.
Pairing: Q/O, implied Bruck/m
Rating: NC-17
Categories:
Humor/Parody
Alternate-Universe (Bruck
lives!)
Plot-What-Plot
First-Time
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URL: http://lonchura.tripod.com/slash.html
Disclaimer: We're all on the same page here, right?
Summary: Obi-Wan experiences some distractions during his
morning meditation.
Warnings & Spoilers: Nah.
Comments & Thank-yous: Features Clueless!Obi and
SerenelySmug!Qui. Dedicated to my neighbors across the hall...
who have sex every morning while I'm saying my prayers. And to
my husband. We don't have a headboard to our bed, but it
doesn't matter.
They're doing it again, Obi-Wan thought.
Every morning, as soon as he had washed and dressed, he
returned to his room for meditation. The small round braided
rug in the center of the floor served him well as a meditation
mat; it was large enough for him to adopt a variety of
postures, sitting, kneeling, or standing. This had been
Obi-Wan's custom since he was a small child, an initiate in the
creche, and it was his master's custom also; after meditation
the two of them joined one another for breakfast and reviewed
their schedules for the day.
It was not, however, the custom of Obi-Wan's new neighbors,
whose bedroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The rest of the
quarters in this wing were usually shared by masters and
padawans; however, the quarters which backed up to theirs had
recently been assigned to Bruck Chun, who was living apart from
his master, and to his lover, Knight Flors Tonkin.
As far as Obi-Wan could tell, it was the custom of Bruck and
Flors to have sex every morning. Loudly. At about the time he
was accustomed to meditate. Just as he was sinking into a
satisfying thought trance, his communion with the Force would
be interrupted by a guttural moan. As he sought to regain his
center, there would be a thump against the wall, and another,
and another, and another. A distinct rhythm of loud thumps,
punctuated by cries of, "Oh yeah!" and "Harder--unh--harder!"
It was bad enough to be privy to the lovemaking (he supposed he
should call it that) of his neighbors, but it was worse that he
knew Bruck, at least, rather well, and had always found his
accent annoying.
Every morning, without fail. And always loudly. Obi-Wan
sighed. He had dallied with both male and female lovers, and he
had never known a man to be as vocal during sex as Bruck Chun.
Certainly he himself was rather quiet, though he enjoyed his
pleasures as much as anyone. He was just going to have to try a
more challenging meditation posture. He got up, removed his
sash, tabard, and tunic, placed them neatly on the bed, and
swiftly assumed a handstand in the midst of the braided rug. He
pictured the word "serenity", written in the ancient
calligraphy, and sank into meditation again.
"Oh, fuck!"
Obi-Wan's legs fell forward onto the bed. Obviously, this was
not going to work.
He put on his outer garments again, made his bed, ran a comb
through his hair, and re-wove his braid. Then he presented
himself for breakfast.
Once again, his master had finished meditation before him and
prepared their breakfast. This was, what, the tenth day in a
row that he had done so? Obi-Wan felt slightly guilty, first,
because Qui-Gon was undoubtedly rising earlier than he if he
completed his meditation so far in advance of his padawan, and
second because making breakfast was traditionally one of those
services that the padawan performed for the master. Obi-Wan
didn't enjoy cooking as much as he enjoyed, say, polishing his
master's boots, but he was always happy to do his duty.
"Good morning, master. I apologize for being late."
A tiny smile. "Not at all, padawan. You will find that rising
earlier becomes easier and easier with age. Please, help
yourself."
Obi-Wan poured himself a small cup of tea and a small glass of
juice, then heaped his plate with fresh fruit, a dollop of
sweet cream, spiced protein patties, and a muffin. He felt
quite hungry and ate without speaking for a few minutes,
clearing his plate and re-filling his juice and tea.
Qui-Gon ate with his usual serene concentration, seeming
undisturbed by his padawan's appetite. Over his second muffin
with cream, Obi-Wan made bold to broach the subject of his
difficulties.
"Master, I have been having a little problem of late."
"Yes, Obi-Wan?"
"I have been having great difficulty with my meditation in the
mornings due to... an external stimulus."
One corner of his master's mouth went up. "Ah, you mean the
amours of Knight Tonkin and Padawan Chun?" Obi-Wan's mouth fell
open. "Don't forget, Obi-Wan, your bedroom and mine are side by
side. I, also, share a wall with them, with their common room,
I believe. They appear to be awfully fond of copulating on the
couch in the late evening."
Obi-Wan said a naughty but colorful Corellian oath. "In the
late evening? But they're doing it every morning in the bedroom
when I'm trying to meditate! Where do they get the stamina?"
Qui-Gon actually smirked behind his large mug of tea.
"Force-use has its advantages, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan licked the last of the sweet cream from his lips and
wiped his hands and his mouth with a napkin. "Well, what do you
do, master, when you're trying to meditate and
their--noises--disturb you?"
"I masturbate, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan distinctly heard a soft "thunk" as his jaw hit the
table. "M-m-masturbate, master?"
Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "Have I neglected your education,
padawan? I was under the impression that you are sexually
active."
"Y-yes, master, but--"
"Surely you are aware of the benefits of self-pleasure, then?
For the relief of stress and as a form of concentration?"
I'm going to shut up now, Obi-Wan thought. And then I'm going
to pass out.
He shot to his feet and stumbled away from the table, nearly
upsetting the pitcher of juice as he went. And then Qui-Gon was
right in front of him, steadying him with a firm grip on his
shoulders.
"Are you quite well, padawan?"
"Yes, master, I'm fine, master," just as soon as I reassemble
my fractured mind.
A large hand cupped his chin. "Obi-Wan, did we not celebrate
your third Rite of Passage some six months ago?"
"We did, master." The first Rite of Passage was at age seven,
when an oblate became an initiate and started training. The
second was at fourteen, confirming one's status as a padawan,
and the third was at twenty-one, conferring the rank of senior
padawan and legal adult throughout the Republic.
Qui-Gon's thumb brushed over the cleft in Obi-Wan's chin. "And
are you not now entitled to form liaisons with other adults...
of any rank whatsoever?"
Qui-Gon's eyes were extremely blue. He was smiling. Obi-Wan's
eyes became extremely large. His mouth fell open. Qui-Gon
kissed him.
The older man's lips were warm, his beard surprisingly soft,
and his tongue skilled and agile. Obi-Wan twined his arms
around his master's neck and returned the kiss
enthusiastically.
"My room, master," he gasped when they broke for air. "My bed
is smaller, but--"
"I quite understand, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's fingers were trembling as he stripped. Qui-Gon
seemed to shed all his clothes in one rippling shrug, as a
serpent sheds its old skin. Naked, he seemed even larger and
more imposing than ever. Perhaps the fact that his unaroused
penis was larger than Obi-Wan's at full erection had something
to do with that.
Obi-Wan found himself on his back on the bed, completely
covered by a large, naked Jedi master. He wasn't quite sure how
he'd gotten there, but it felt awfully good. Large warm hands
held his wrists to the bed, not too forcefully; warm soft lips
explored his mouth, his throat, his chest, lingering pleasantly
over his nipples.
Is that me whimpering? Obi-Wan wondered. I don't
remember ever whimpering before. Teeth grazed one nipple,
carefully, and he squeaked. No, that couldn't have been
me. Surely I don't squeak.
Someone howled as Qui-Gon's mouth closed over Obi-Wan's
leaping erection. On consideration, Obi-Wan decided that it
must have been himself, given that he was already pounding the
bed with his fists. A mass of grey-brown hair spread over his
belly, groin, and upper thighs somewhat obscured his vision,
but he was nevertheless quite certain that his master, Qui-Gon
Jinn, was performing fellatio on him with a hitherto
unexperienced expertise. That was certainly sufficient reason
to howl.
Obi-Wan writhed, howled, pounded the bed with his fists, and
yelled like one tortured as his body erupted with orgasm. He
opened his eyes, presently, to see Qui-Gon sitting back on his
heels on the tiny bed, licking his moist lips with an
undeniable look of smugness in his eyes. And his fully erect
penis was quite impressive. No, it was downright awe-inspiring.
"Master...."
"Obi-Wan?"
"What about you?" He gestured feebly. He had seen starships
smaller than that organ.
"With your permission, Obi-Wan, I should like to...." He
glanced at the wall, then stretched himself out over his
apprentice, mouth against the younger man's ear. "To fuck you
until the headboard punches a hole in the wall."
To Obi-Wan's utter chagrin, his penis twitched. So did another
part of his anatomy. "But, master, is it really possible...?"
"If you'd bothered to listen to the gossip, Obi-Wan, you would
know that I have a reputation for being a very good lover. And
that I have never injured a partner in any way, despite my
size."
"I was always too busy with those linguistics courses, master.
I never had time to have the usual crush on you and try to find
out about your sex life."
Qui-Gon kissed his padawan. Obi-Wan rather liked the taste of
himself in the older man's mouth. "That's quite all right,
padawan. I've made up for it by having a terrific crush on
you."
Obi-Wan grinned. "Really, master? In that case...." He made to
turn over. Qui-Gon moved aside and let him.
"I am honored by your trust in me, padawan. And I am even more
aroused than previously by the sight of your exquisite, er,
physique."
Obi-Wan wriggled his physique appropriately. "I believe you
will find some moisturizing lotion in my nightstand, master."
"Thank you for the tip, padawan."
Obi-Wan had achieved excellent control over his body through
his communion with the Force. He now discovered that it was
possible to achieve excellent control over someone else's body
through communion with the Force. Muscles yielded and nerve
endings rejoiced at the command of Qui-Gon Jinn, and in a very
short period of time, Obi-Wan was quite thoroughly penetrated
and ready to be fucked.
"Oh, master," he purred, as the first withdrawal and return
glided over the sensitive spot within him. "Oh, master," he
moaned, as Qui-Gon did it again. "Ooh, master," he
cried, as a firm hand wrapped around his burgeoning erection.
"Master!" Obi-Wan yelled, as Qui-Gon thrust hard and
the headboard hit the wall. His throat hurt, but the rest of
him felt lovely. Each masterful thrust produced a louder outcry
of pleasure, drawn from deeper within him, until he threw back
his head and screamed, his voice rising a full octave, as his
second orgasm coincided with Qui-Gon's first.
Having his lover lying on his back was very pleasant... for
about five minutes. Qui-Gon was heavy, and he was beginning to
snore. "M'ster--I c'n't br'the--"
Qui-Gon pulled up onto his hands and knees with a snort, then
delicately moved away. Obi-Wan instinctively rolled over toward
the other man, and Qui-Gon welcomed him with open arms. The two
of them dozed, Obi-Wan's head on his master's chest.
"I suppose we really ought to get to the practice hall,"
Obi-Wan said at last.
"Indeed," said Qui-Gon.
Ten minutes later, Obi-Wan began to disengage from his
master's embrace. "I'm getting up now, master."
"Yes, I am, too...."
Ten minutes after that, Obi-Wan took hold of one large
foot--why had he never noticed how large those feet were?--and
started trying to drag Qui-Gon off the bed. At this point
Qui-Gon got up and excused himself.
They came later than usual to the practice hall, but they were
both appropriately dignified and fully attired. No one was
going to notice that the end of Obi-Wan's braid looked a
trifle... chewed.
After warming up by sparring with one another, master and
padawan separated, as usual, to solicit other partners. Obi-Wan
turned around and came face to face with Bruck Chun.
Bruck saluted Obi-Wan with his saber. "Wanna do it with me,
Kenobi?" His teeth flashed white in his broad brown face.
They fought a hot match full of dizzying leaps and turns.
Obi-Wan was moving more aggressively than was his wont, yet he
felt peaceful within, more in touch with the Living Force. He
bested Bruck with a swift twirl of his wrist that sent the
other padawan's lightsaber flying from his hand.
Bruck grinned, the tip of his tongue showing between his
teeth. "Good work, Kenobi. I didn't know you had it in you."
"With any luck, I'll have it in me again tomorrow," said
Obi-Wan.
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