Summary: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon celebrate a holiday that happens,
coincidentally enough, to resemble Valentine's Day.
Feedback: Please. I take anything. (Literally.) (Well, no
mailbombs. But other than that...)
Notes:
1) Thanks to Shadow and Kry for reading this over and thwapping
my IAS. Any errors or problems or stupidities are my fault. And
I have no clue where this fic came from. My muses are
more demented than I am.
2) This is posted in two parts. The first kind of works as a
standalone, and has no explicit sex. The second is basically
sex. Sex sex sex sex sex. [Ahem. Sorry 'bout that...] If m/m
sex bothers you...well, if m/m sex bothers you, you probably
aren't reading most of the fics on this list, but that ain't
the point. If it bothers you, just read the first part and be
happy. Of course, if it doesn't bother you, I'd reccomend
reading the whole thing. I'm a leetle biased though.
3) Despite being a day late for any part of the world east of
here, yes, this is a holiday fic. To be precise,
a Sappy Holiday Fic Okay, so maybe VDay isn't really religious
or anything, but... If holiday fics irritate you, delete. I
won't be offended.
4) For anyone bothering to read this far, I give you two
chocolate-covered Jedi. Now go read the fic.
Disclaimer: All hail George Lucas, who, despite being silly
enough *not* to but Obi and Qui together, is still rightful
owner of everything herein. Except the frogs. Which are mine.
"Padawan."
The word, though spoken mildly, stopped Obi-Wan mid-scuttle as
if a force field had appeared before him. "Yes, Master?" he
said, impatient and almost-- guilty?
Qui-Gon gathered himself from the rather sprawled position on
their couch, and stood lazily. "I've been researching the
customs of your homeworld."
"You have," Obi-Wan said carefully. He looked almost guilty.
Qui-Gon hid a smile. His Padawan, guilty? Never happened.
Yeah, and I'm in line to buy beachfront property on
Coruscant.
"Indeed," Qui-Gon said, keeping his voice as mild as it had
been before. "And I discovered that today is a holiday for your
people."
"Well, I have spent so much of my life with the Jedi for so
long that it's not really a holiday for my people, and,
uh..." Obi-Wan stammered to a halt, cheeks flushed, not quite
meeting Qui-Gon's gaze. Yep, definite guilt there. "So, today's
a holiday, hm?"
"Yes. It seems to be a tradition to give...gifts to those you
love." Qui-Gon kept his best innocent expression on. "Tell me
if I have this wrong, please; I found more sources for the Tale
of Val'Tin and the Three Frogs than for current customs."
"...and the three frogs," Obi-Wan echoed. He had an odd
expression on his face, like he'd swallowed a frog himself.
"Well. I, uh, yes, that's a common story. Though, to be honest,
I never quite understood where the thirty-nine rows of Jawa
tracks came from--"
He stopped, swallowing, as he finally noticed Qui-Gon's silent
laughter. "You're laughing at me, Master," he said, accusing
and almost mortified.
"Apologies, my Padawan," Qui-Gon said, straightening his face.
He suspected that his amusement was still leaking out, through
glints in his eyes and a silver shimmer along their bond, but
at least he wasn't laughing any more. "But you
are getting sidetracked from the point."
"Which is?"
"That it is a tradition to give gifts to those you love."
"Is it?"
"You're evading me, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, still mildly. With
a few swift strides he crossed the room to where Obi-Wan stood.
"It only seems appropriate, given tradition, that I give you
something to celebrate Val'Tin's day."
"Oh." For some reason, that seemed to relax Obi-Wan, and he
smiled at Qui-Gon. "Let me guess: a frog-shaped rock?"
"How did you guess?" Qui-Gon said, perfectly deadpan, and then
grinned at the expression on Obi-Wan's face. "No, it isn't a
rock of any sort." He held out a foil-wrapped brick.
Obi-Wan gave a squeal worthy of a trapped gula'y leaf, and all
but snatched the brick out of Qui-Gon's hands. "Chocolate!
Qui-Gon, I love you!" He flung his arms around Qui-Gon for a
quick hug, then unwrapped the block of chocolate. Well, no,
Qui-Gon corrected himself: Unwrapping wasn't quite the right
word. Obi-Wan was a Force-wielding chocolate addict with very
nimble fingers--
--chocolate, Qui-Gon reminded himself, shaking out of
the memory of exactly how nimble Obi-Wan's fingers
were--
--and so the foil wasn't as much unwrapped as teleported to the
floor. Almost immediately, a chunk was in Obi-Wan's mouth, and
a look of bliss was spreading across his face. "Wlf," he said
unintelligibly, "nrkth uvdsk..." He swallowed, then grinned
impishly. "Sorry. As I was trying to say: Now that you've
discovered my deep dark secret..."
"Chocolate, you mean?" Qui-Gon smiled and wiped a dark smudge
from the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth, then made a point of
licking the chocolate off his own finger. "I'm afraid that
isn't very deep or very secret, Obi-Wan, love."
Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out, a quick and slightly undignified
flash of pink. "No. Of course not. If I kept my love of
chocolate secret, how would I get people to buy me more?"
"Oh, right." Qui-Gon nodded, keeping his face solemn.
"No, I meant the Val-Tin celebration. I thought maybe you'd
think it was childish."
"I never think you're childish, my Obi-Wan."
"Right." Obi-Wan's grin lit up his face and dimpled his cheeks.
"Of course I believe you, Master, because...why is it that I
believe you?"
"Because I am your Master, and you are my Padawan."
"Right. Okay." Again, that flash of a grin. "I have your gift
in the other room, if you will wait a few moments."
"It isn't a frog-shaped rock, is it?" Qui-Gon inquired
serenely.
"Depends on how you define frog," Obi-Wan said, "and how you
define rock."
"I see." Qui-Gon smiled. "Very well. I will wait out here until
you call me?"
Obi-Wan nodded, and disappeared through the door into their
private chambers.
Qui-Gon waited calmly. Quite calmly. Never mind that there were
waves of barely suppressed lust coming from the other room;
never mind that his mind was painting very elaborate ideas of
what his present would be; never mind that his whole body was
vibrating with impatience. Quite calmly, he told himself
in his sternest voice.
Right, and it was about time to get a surfboard for his
beachfront property.
"Ready," Obi-Wan called, with all the sweet innocence of an
initiate who had Accidentally (Of Course) Lost His Way. Qui-Gon
took a deep breath, smiled, and did not (Of Course) use Force
speed to go into the other room.
Oh.
Oh.
"And breathe," Obi-Wan added.
Qui-Gon swallowed. For all the ideas his mind had painted, this
was light-years better-- perhaps, he realized dimly, because it
was real, and not just a fantasy. But he would never have bet
on his present being Obi-Wan--
--stretched out on his bed--
--naked--
--with a wide red ribbon tied as a blindfold around his eyes,
another binding his ankles together, a third around his wrists
(tied by small manipulations of the Force, Qui-Gon guessed),
and a fourth in a neat bow--
"Are you going to unwrap your present, Master?" Obi-Wan asked
softly.
--on his--
"Oh," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan turned his face blindly towards the door, a smile
playing on his lips. "Or you could just stare," he said
mischievously, "but I might get cold."
Qui-Gon found his tongue at last. "I doubt it." Was it his
imagination that his voice was coming out hoarse? "Very much
doubt it."
Obi-Wan's smile widened.
Qui-Gon approached slowly, almost slinking. His clothes came
off quickly; there was no need for any sort of striptease, just
an urgent desire for fewer clothes. "So. I should unwrap my
present, hmm?"
"You could. That is, after all, what one often does with
presents." Obi-Wan's voice was quite even, as if he were
discussing the weather.
"Mmmm." He was close to the bed, now; close enough to reach;
but his touch was light as he ran two fingers up the side of
Obi-Wan's near leg, up along the lean stomach and torso,
feeling the muscles twitch under him; up, across the chest to
the neck, brushing across the cheek. Obi-Wan's breathing was
ragged, but he was holding so still that he must have been
exerting Force control.
Qui-Gon leaned down and brushed his mouth against Obi-Wan's.
After a moment's startled hesitation, the younger man opened
his lips to Qui-Gon. A moment more and his tongue nudged at
Qui-Gon's mouth, hot and demanding. Qui-Gon could taste
chocolate stronger than the flavor that was Obi-Wan. Chocolate
heat, burning through his nerves to the tips of his fingers, to
his groin, curling like sweet lead fire in his stomach.
Qui-Gon pulled back from the kiss, and Obi-Wan's chin came up
and out, seeking the missing contact. "Shhh," Qui-Gon murmured,
nudging Obi-Wan's head back down. Nipping and sucking a jagged
path up from the side of Obi-Wan's face to his nose to the cool
silk of the blindfold. Through the ribbon he could feel
Obi-Wan's eyelids quiver.
He rubbed his cheek along the line of the blindfold, bringing
one hand up to tilt Obi-Wan's head to the side. The ribbon was
tied loosely in back, and Qui-Gon nibbled in short swift plucks
at the knot. It loosened and then came off under the attack of
his lips and teeth.
"How am I doing?" Qui-Gon trailed butterfly kisses along
Obi-Wan's forehead, coming down between his eyes to the tip of
his nose. The stormy blue eyes focused on him, darker than
usual.
"You're making progress." Obi-Wan's voice sounded a bit shaky.
"Not completely unwrapped, though. Yet."
"I can tell." Qui-Gon ran his hands up Obi-Wan's arms to the
wrists, curling his fingers around the red ribbon. Curling, but
not untying. Then he moved back down, running his hands down
the length of Obi-Wan's body. Stomach, hips, thighs, calves,
all smooth skin warm to his touch; then past the ribboned
binding, to the arches of his feet.
Obi-Wan whimpered. Qui-Gon smiled and rubbed gentle, small
circles in the soles of Obi-Wan's feet. "Patience, oh
Padawan-present of mine."
"Patience. Yes." Obi-Wan's voice was slightly squeaky. "Oh..."
Still with one hand touching and rubbing Obi-Wan's foot,
Qui-Gon untied the ribbon over the slender ankles. Freeing the
legs, and rubbing his hands up the inside of Obi-Wan's legs, to
the erection that was now quite alert.
Mouth replaced hands; Qui-Gon kissed and licked a quick
fleeting pattern along Obi-Wan's cock, silky skin broken only
by the different silk of the ribbon. Licking, sucking, and
glorying in the whimpers that accompanied each little contact.
Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's erection in his mouth, working with lips
and tongue to ease the ribbon off.
Only the ribbon, he thought with a sudden burst of humor.
Nothing else. And pretty soon he'd be buying a swimsuit. Navy,
perhaps, with white--
Obi-Wan arched up against him, thrusting into his mouth, and
Qui-Gon was effectively distracted from thoughts of swimsuits
or beaches.
"Master--" Obi-Wan stopped with a strangled gasp, and when
Qui-Gon looked up, his hands were flexing. If it weren't for
the ribbon binding, those hands would be in his hair. Rubbing,
stroking, grasping, holding.
A sound that was almost a purr thrummed up from Obi-Wan's
throat. "Master," he said again, "this is your present-- not--
not mine--"
Qui-Gon pulled back, then moved up to kiss Obi-Wan. Chocolate
heat and Obi-Wan's precum. "You'll have to share your own gift,
then."
"Yes," Obi-Wan said. His eyes were rolling back into his head.
Succumbing to temptation, Qui-Gon added, "And we'll be spending
a month on Dagobah, communing with the mosquitoes."
"Yes," Obi-Wan said in the same distracted voice.
"Just so we're clear," Qui-Gon said with a smile. He worked his
way back down, kissing and nipping and sucking, down Obi-Wan's
breastbone and stomach and navel and down, circling the
straining erection. Mouth and hands moved, stroking and pulling
and pleading and urging.
Obi-Wan groaned incoherently and climaxed to a fierce shout.
Qui-Gon sucked everything away, swallowing what came, licking
and soothing. Obi-Wan shuddered and went limp, and Qui-Gon
stretched out next to him, one arm draped over the flushed
body.
"So," he said at last, when Obi-Wan's breathing had slowed. "Is
this a good end to Val-Tin's day?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan said, lazy and sleepy. "And no frogs."
"Yet."
"Hm?"
"Oh, nothing," Qui-Gon said. He was a Jedi Master. He'd had
lots of practice looking innocent.
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