Impromptu Congress

by Amberlee ( amberleewriter@yahoo.com )

Pairing: Bail Organa/Obi-Wan Kenobi (and vice versa!)

Rating: NC-17

Archive – M/A, Bail Now, my LJ. Others please ask.

Feedback: If you want to send it I'm happy to receive it but I don't live or die by the stuff.

Warnings: If you've got a squick about people having unsafe sex without lube you won't like this fic.

Notes: This is for the September 2004 TPM Ficathon. My challenge, which I chose to accept, was thus: "Obi/Bail. PWP. NC-17 involving the office of a council member or high ranking senator, a broken glass and the word sewer."

These boys are in no way related to my other Bail and Obi, to Rita's Bail and Obi, to the QAJ Bail and Obi, or any other such muse boys. They are out here hanging ten on their own.

Standard Disclaimer: I don't take cash for writing smut (but I'd like to!). Lucas thought them up and owns them. He reads this and I'm likely toast or at least persona non grata at the Skywalker Ranch. Pray for my soul.

Glad Handing: Thanks to Rita for a suggestion or two and LauraMcEwan for the beta. Myrrh gets credit on all my Bail/Obi bunnies (even though this pair is unrelated to my other set). Any mistakes left are my own fault and my beta should not be held responsible for my idiocy.

"I miss this so much." Obi-Wan moaned the words while trying to fill his lungs with air. Between a mouth full of tongue and his nose getting smashed nearly flat into his face by Bail's assault, Obi-Wan was doing a fine job of testing the limits of the famed Jedi ability to hold one's breath. After exiting the Council chambers and extricating themselves from the other members of the Intelligence Oversight committee, Bail had maneuvered Obi-Wan onto a nearby balcony and crushed him up against the side of the Jedi Temple as soon as the door closed. They were like a couple of horny teenagers with the lack of sense and impatient need to fuck that the age implies instead of the staid reasonable men that a Jedi and Viceroy are thought to be.

"I missed you too." Bail, unhappy with simply having his way with Obi-Wan's mouth, was scrabbling and pulling at Obi-Wan's tunic in search of more skin. When he managed to get a nice piece of flesh at the hollow of Obi-Wan's throat exposed he attacked it with as much fervor and single-minded intensity as he had the Jedi's mouth. "It seems like it's been months since I've seen you."

"Three months, two weeks, and four standard days." Obi-Wan rattled off the list without even having to think.

Bail couldn't help the smug grin on his face when he came up for air. "What, not counting the hours and minutes anymore? I think I'm offended."

"Well you didn't specify if you meant the last time you saw me or the last time you fucked me," Obi-Wan replied. "Shockingly enough, there is actually a difference."

"True." Bail was tired of talking. He got enough of it every day in his office; in committee after committee meeting, in the Senate when it was in session, at dinners and fundraisers and meetings over drinks. In a way he almost envied Obi-Wan his Generalship – at least the man got to do something other than talk about the atrocity of a war they were all a part of now. All Bail wanted was to drown himself in how good it felt to be wanted and needed for what he could give someone and the only words he wanted to hear out of Obi-Wan's mouth, as side from his own name, were incoherent pleas to be fucked and the occasional expletive or thankful cry to a deity.

Bail got his wish immediately when he managed to get a hand past the layers of cloth and down Obi-Wan's pants. He was almost gleeful as he watched Obi-Wan's eyes roll back in pleasure and listened to the needful groan that came out of the lovely throat. It occurred to Bail that doing this on an exterior balcony of the Temple where they might be seen was, to put it mildly, indiscreet, but he had just spent the last standard hour in the Jedi Council Chambers listening while his lover and Padawan Skywalker recounted the latest in a series of failed attempts to corner Count Dooku and return him to Coruscant. He'd had to stand there – staring at the long-fingered calloused hands as they gestured instead of touched, at the lips that spoke when they ought to be being kissed, at the skin that held cuts and bruises that weren't made from rough sex but from battle – when all he wanted was to rush across the Council floor and take Obi-Wan in his arms.

"My speeder's in the hangar." Bail whispered his proposal hotly into Obi-Wan's ear as he slipped his hand down. Dexterous fingers cupped Obi-Wan's balls and gave them a squeeze. "We can either stay here and I can describe to you in explicit detail everything I want to do to each inch of your body or we can go back to my place and I can do it."

Bail expected plenty of different reactions from Obi-Wan, but not the one he got.

"I can't."

"What?" Bail stopped cold, pulled his hand out of Obi-Wan's pants, and took a half step back. "Why not?"

Obi-Wan sagged against the wall like a broken man. "We leave again in less than six hours."

"WHAT!? Six hours!? You have to be joking me! At the very least you need a day in the medward! Have they all lost their minds?"

Rubbing a weary hand over his face, Obi-Wan replied, "Bail, there isn't any choice. Someone has to lead them."

"I hate this fucking war." Bail pressed the heels of his palms to his eye sockets.

Obi-Wan grabbed Bail's wrists and pulled his hand away. "I know," he whispered.

Bail sighed and bent his head down until his forehead touched Obi-Wan's. They laced their fingers together. "How long this time?"

"I don't know, Bail." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and brushed his nose against Bail's. "I'm in charge of a battleship, a fleet of starfighters, and I have a special ARC trooper unit."

The pounding of Bail's heart now had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with fear. Those kinds of troops meant ground assaults and clone troopers weren't the only ones dying out there. Jedi died too. Bail shoved the morbid thoughts aside; if this was the last time he ever saw Obi-Wan then he was going to make it count. He brushed his lips over Obi-Wan's and said, "Well, six hours is definitely not enough time to make it to my place and back. I guess it's yours this time."

Obi-Wan almost cringed. "Anakin's there. He's packing up what we need."

Bail bit back a frustrated sigh. This whole situation wasn't fair. Of course it wasn't fair for anyone – not just for a Senator and a Jedi that wanted a shag – and Bail felt mildly chagrined at how selfish it all seemed. But war was war. You took what pleasure you could get in the moments you had to share and you didn't talk about the future or the past. "Well, I'm not fucking you on the balcony," Bail quipped. "The holonet gets pictures of us in flagrante delicto and it'll be the end of my days in the Senate. While I'm sure there are many that would be happy to see me go back to Alderaan and stay there, and I'd personally think of it as a small price to pay for the privilege of your ass, someone's got to be a voice of reason."

The two stood there, looking at each other. Finally, Obi-Wan let go of one of Bail's hands and turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

Obi-Wan turned with a grin on his face. "You going to ask questions or do you want to get naked?"

"General, command me."

Obi-Wan punched a code into the door panel and the thing hadn't even completely opened before he grabbed Bail by the lapels and shoved him into the room. He clamped his mouth over Bail's hungrily before the door managed to register their entry. In seconds Bail was pressed against the nearest vertical surface with a pair of hips grinding into his own and Obi-Wan's beard and moustache roughing what little bit of skin Bail didn't have covered by his own goatee.

Everything was going fine until Bail took some air in through his nose. He squirmed against Obi-Wan, but it wasn't from the kiss. Finally he managed to get Obi-Wan shoved away from him and he immediately covered his mouth and nose with the arm of his robe to keep from gagging. "What in the name of the nine planets is that smell!?"

Obi-Wan seemed totally perplexed. "What?"

"Don't you smell that? It reeks like a sewer valve in here!"

"Oh, that." Obi-Wan reached up and tried to get Bail's arm away from his face so he could get back to the kissing part. "Master Yoda's probably making that tea he drinks. He has to boil the bark from fungus trees on Endor to make the stuff. It stinks while he does it but it's not that bad once you get used to it."

"Master Yoda?" Bail was mortified. "These are Master Yoda's quarters?"

Obi-Wan nodded and pulled at Bail's belt catch since he couldn't manage to budge Bail's arm.

Bail swatted at Obi-Wan with his free hand. "What if he comes in here?"

"He's in the Council Chamber," Obi-Wan huffed. "They'll be there for hours yet deciding on the language for the official report."

"Well I am not having sex in here." Bail shoved him away sternly. "Aside from the fact that it's Master Yoda's quarters, the smell is making me sick. Can't we go somewhere else?"

"Sith hells, Bail!" Obi-Wan was getting a little perturbed. His trousers had a very obvious tent from his erection. "I'm down to five hours before launch. You all but attack me on the balcony, you wind me up, you beg me to find somewhere to shag, and when I get you here you complain. What do you want from me? I'm doing the best I can on short notice!"

Bail's expression behind his arm was sympathetic. They'd passed several Jedi in the halls and Bail was terribly thankful that he was wearing his Senate robes today and not the military uniform he normally had on these days. Tight cut pants and fitted jackets didn't do much to hide a raging hard-on. As it was, the long tunic and robe disguised his aroused state as he hurried, a bit uncomfortably, after Obi-Wan through the halls of the Temple. It wasn't that he didn't want to do this – he did, oh my stars how badly he did – but he simply couldn't. "I'm sorry, Ben. Really. I am. I just think that me losing my breakfast while we're in the middle of things would probably break the mood."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "Ok. Let me think about this."

Nodding, Bail sucked in another mouthful of air through his robe sleeve. He hadn't been exaggerating. He really was about to throw up. He watched as Obi-Wan paced back and forth, hand to his chin.

Suddenly he stopped and headed for the door.

"Come on."

Bail had never been so grateful to leave a room in his life.

Obi-Wan must have put on a burst of Force assisted speed because Bail could hardly keep up with him as they navigated the halls. They swept past bowing Initiates and surprised Knights stopping only when a Jedi Master that outranked Obi-Wan exited a lift. Obi-Wan immediately bowed to the spindly limbed Quermian and Bail did the same. Luckily, little more than pleasantries were exchanged and they were quickly on their way again.

By the time Obi-Wan reached their destination, and both men walked through the doorway, Bail was slightly winded. He took a few moments to look around while he caught his breath. It appeared to be an office. Sparsely decorated in tones of brown it, thankfully, smelled of nothing more than the potted exotic flowers that sat to one side of the room under a special light. There was a desk at the far end with two chairs facing it and a small conversation area, comprised of a low couch, a table, and two round floater chairs.

"Well, at least the place doesn't smell worse than a wet Wookie," Bail said.

"True."

Bail frowned a bit. He didn't want to upset Obi-Wan again but he couldn't help feeling a bit strange about the situation. "Do I want to know whose office we're in?"

"Probably not." Obi-Wan walked toward the seating area and shrugged off his robe. He tossed it over one of the chairs and started to unbuckle his belt. "Does it matter?"

There was an old saying among the fishermen on Alderaan – any port in a storm. Time was passing with every second Bail hesitated and he had no idea of knowing when he'd see Obi-Wan next. Obi-Wan was right. What did it matter where they were? Bail decided that he'd just pretend it was his own office. He'd had a fantasy about Obi-Wan, a desk, and his high-backed chair for quite a while now. This was a perfect opportunity, right?

Obi-Wan bent to pull off a boot. It gave Bail a fantastic view of the Jedi's ass and the deal was sealed. "No," Bail said in a low growl. "No, it doesn't."

Bail took two quick steps to where Obi-Wan was removing his other boot. He reached forward and planted a hand firmly to the small of Obi-Wan's back and thrust his hips forward in a motion that promised a rough fuck once the clothes came off. Bail bent to press his chest to Obi-Wan's back and whispered, "My fantasy about you and my office involves bending you over my desk, but this is really nice too."

"Nice?" Obi-Wan sounded offended but he pushed backward, wriggling under Bail in a manner meant to egg him on. "That's all I get? Nice?"

Bail reached around with his other hand and cupped Obi-Wan's crotch. He rubbed the erection through the fabric. It was long, hard, and twitching in anticipation. For a moment, Bail considered letting Obi-Wan drive. It might have been three months, two weeks, four days, seven hours, and twenty-six standard minutes since he last buried himself inside Obi-Wan (Yes, Bail did keep track too), but it had been seven months, five weeks, two days, ten hours, and forty-one minutes (give or take a minute) since Obi-Wan had put Bail on his hands and knees in front of the fireplace in the reception room in Cantham House and fucked Bail so hard he hadn't been able to sit properly for a day and a half. Memories might last forever, but a nice ache to remember Obi-Wan by could be lovely too.

Bail was still in the midst of considering the option when Obi-Wan spoke. "You know, I've got a fantasy."

Curiosity took over and Bail's hand stilled. "About my office?"

"Yeah." Obi-Wan, in an impressive display of Jedi agility and flexibility, twisted around in Bail's grasp. He licked at Bail's lips. "Want me to show you?"

Bail was short of breath again. He wanted Obi-Wan so badly it hurt. "Oh, yeah," he panted. "Show me."

Smirking, Obi-Wan backpedaled Bail toward the desk, navigating him with hands on his chest until the back of Bail's knees hit the edge of the chair. Hands slid up the blue tunic until they reached Bail's shoulders then Obi-Wan shoved down. "I think you want to sit for this."

A thud accompanied Bail's abrupt meeting of backside to nerfhide. He watched as Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and backed himself into the darkness of the desk recess. The chair rolled forward, seemingly of its own accord, as Obi-Wan slid his hands up Bail's legs and under the tunic. Bail's fly was open and his pants down around his thighs in record time. Obi-Wan's head was under the fabric and his mouth full of Bail's cock even faster.

Bail closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure, his head rolling back to sink into the headrest of the chair. A hand drifted lazily until it rested on Obi-Wan's bobbing head underneath the cloth. It was a shame, Bail thought, that he hadn't managed to get his robe and tunic off. He loved the feel of Obi-Wan's hair between his fingers when he fucked the Jedi's mouth but they still had over four hours before the launch. Plenty of time for a second round. Bail was just about to start thrusting when something rather unexpected occurred.

The door opened.

Bail's eyes snapped open to the vision of Mace Windu. The Jedi Master stopped mid-stride and Bail jerked upright in the chair. He had to force himself not to yelp – not because he was startled but because Obi-Wan's teeth had done something rather nasty thanks to the sudden movement.

"Senator Organa," Mace said sternly, "What are you doing in my office?"

Obi-Wan jumped at the sound of the voice, cracking his head against the underside of the desk. The entire thing shuddered with the force of the impact causing a hand-blown decanter and two glasses that were sitting on the corner to teeter. Bail lunged forward, successfully grabbing for the decanter but the glasses were another matter. Both toppled over and it seemed to take an eternity for them to roll off the side of the desk and fall to the floor with a melodic shatter.

Bail winced.

Mace was not amused. "Senator, I asked you a question."

"Well, uh, Master Windu, you see…" Bail stammered as he settled the decanter firmly on the desk. He had no idea how he was going to explain this. "I, just, well…"

A debauched looking Obi-Wan crawled out from under the desk and stood up. "Master Windu," he said, completely straight faced.

Bail was mortified. His face went bright red and he slumped down in the chair. He seriously considered crawling under the desk.

Mace looked back and forth between the pair, an eyebrow arched. "Knight Kenobi, perhaps you care to explain why you and Senator Organa are in my private office?"

Yes, Bail thought, crawling under the desk and never coming out would be an excellent idea.

"The Senator had some questions with regard to the particulars of a…"

Mace cut him off. "Oh save it, Kenobi." He turned his attention back to Bail. "Senator, I'm going to assume you'd rather I not come behind that desk to get the datapads out of the third drawer down on the right."

Bail nodded, opened the drawer, and pulled out every datapad it held. As soon as they were visible, they flew from his hand and into that of Mace Windu.

"Kenobi," Windu growled, "you have four hours and twenty-eight minutes before launch. If you are even one fraction of a second late…"

"I won't be."

"Fine." The Jedi Master shook his head and sighed.

Mace turned and headed for the door. Just before exiting he looked back at the pair and said in a dead-pan voice, "There's lube in the first drawer on the left. Please clean the glass off the floor and don't ruin my couch. Have a nice day, Senator."

A little over thirty minutes later, Obi-Wan and Bail were lying together on the couch Mace had been so concerned about. The mentioned lube had never left the drawer. Both men's erections had flagged during the incident and neither seemed to be able to manage a return to sporting form regardless of the method of stimulation applied. Bail was fairly certain he'd never be able to look Master Windu in the face again without turning a shade of bright crimson and Obi-Wan, for his part, had seemed suitably chagrined at Mace's parting quip. The entire episode had effectively quashed any thought that either of them might manage to orgasm anytime soon.

After cleaning up the glass and determining that hard-ons were out of the question, the pair had settled on the couch and resigned themselves to disappointment. Snuggled together, they kissed and petted each other in a vain attempt at starting something up, but it was to no avail. The kissing, however, became heartfelt and tender after a while. It was rare for the pair of them to have the time, or inclination, to use kissing as anything but a fast way to get to the fuck and now that it seemed to have become the main event there was something almost reverent in the effort they put into it. They crushed themselves together there on Mace's couch – exploring, tasting, nibbling, sucking, licking, nipping – as though they were school boys that had never kissed anyone before and couldn't get enough of it.

"How long now?" Bail asked when they took a break.

"Three hours and fifty-six minutes."

"At least I got to see you." Bail sighed and ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "If I hadn't been at the meeting I wouldn't have even have known you were here. That's something, right?"

Obi-Wan nodded into Bail's chest.

"Can I take you to the ship, Ben? It'd be nice to see you off."

Obi-Wan pushed himself up in a sudden motion and stared down into Bail's face. "Bail, you are a genius and I am a total idiot!"

Bail blinked, confused. Before he knew it Obi-Wan jumped off the couch, grabbed him by the hand, and he was being pulled toward the door. "Where are we going?" Bail asked as he snatched up Obi-Wan's utility belt and brown robe.

"The ship!" Obi-Wan was a man on a mission and he towed Bail along in his wake. "I've got a private berth on the fucking ship!"

The clock was ticking. By the time the pair got into Bail's speeder and to the waiting battleship, another twenty-two minutes had passed. The formalities of command had to be dealt with – Obi-Wan issued terse orders to several squad leaders – and then they had to get on board and into the General's cabin. Another fifty-eight minutes gone. Bail was going to have to get dressed and get off the ship before the launch, acts that Obi-Wan estimated would take about thirty minutes. That left them a maximum of two hours and six minutes to fuck.

More than enough time.

They didn't bother with pleasantries. As soon as they got in the cabin they started stripping. Bail actually had to take the time to be neat about it because he had to wear his clothes off the ship. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, could not have cared less. Anakin would have clean tunics and leggings in the packs being brought from their quarters. The Jedi all but ripped his clothes off and tossed them in a corner to deal with later. Belt, lightsaber, robe, tabards – he couldn't get them off fast enough.

When they were both naked and in each others' arms it was such a relief that Bail almost broke into hysterical laughter. What a comedy of errors! But none of it mattered. The feel of Obi-Wan's skin under his hands more than made up for the false starts. Free of the specter of Mace Windu, Bail's erection stood up proud and painfully hard. He had only one truly coherent thought in his head; fucking Obi-Wan in the ass until they both couldn't breathe.

Groping and stumbling their way in the small space, they made it to the bunk. It was hard and narrow – built for one on a military craft – but that didn't matter either. They fell onto the tiny thing, a heap of arms and legs, like starving nerf on a sack of grain.

Heads bumped, teeth clacked together, and knees scraped against the metal bulkheads without complaint. Bail slipped down between Obi-Wan's thighs and swallowed him whole. No warm up. No teasing. No hands. Bail was determined to suck Obi-Wan off in spectacular fashion in the shortest amount of time possible. He had it in his mind that, with a little under two hours left, the legendary Jedi stamina might make it possible for Bail to get as good a pounding as he intended to give.

It wasn't long before Obi-Wan knotted a fist in Bail's short hair and started thrusting hard, nearly choking him. Bail loved it. He loved it when the last vestiges of Jedi unflappability frayed out and Obi-Wan was reduced to little more than animal instinct. It made him feel inordinately proud to know he could turn a Knight of the Republic into a gasping incoherent mess. And it made him even harder when Obi-Wan shouted something horribly lewd in Huttese when he came.

Bail swallowed all of it and, without preamble, hooked Obi-Wan's legs over his shoulders. He surged forward, one hand on his cock to guide it, as he bent Obi-Wan into position. Just before his first push he stopped short.

"Lube?" Bail almost couldn't speak the word he was so out of breath.

Obi-Wan simply groaned.

To say Bail was a little put out was an understatement. He had to bite back a Corellian curse. "You're kidding me!"

"It's not like I go on missions expecting to get laid, Bail," Obi-Wan huffed. "For that matter, I've never even been on this ship before. How would I have lube in here?"

"I can't believe this." Bail sagged against Obi-Wan's chest.

"Do it anyway."

"What?"

"You heard me." Obi-Wan shifted, pressing his ass against Bail's erection. "But, Ben, I could…"

"Bail, just fuck me," Obi-Wan growled. "I'll be in transit for a standard day and there's nothing I'm going to be doing once I get there that involves sitting down."

Unless one is a sadist, a masochist, or has a high pain tolerance, sex in the raw between human males isn't usually a first choice. And, to his credit, Bail actually thought it over before he did what Obi-Wan requested. Pushing past the tight ring of muscle without the aid of lubricant was uncomfortable for Bail, and outright painful for Obi-Wan, but he was so hard that he managed the task. After a few thrusts Bail was all the way in and Obi-Wan's body gave way – the hard drag of friction replaced by hot heat eased by pre-come and sweat. Even still, the sting of it made tears leak from the corner of Obi-Wan's eyes as Bail fucked him.

Bail sped up and Obi-Wan's grunts of pain became gasps laced with pleasure; hitched breaths syncopated to Bail's long even ones. He reveled in those sounds because Bail never made them himself. When Bail came he did so silently. The force of orgasm always did that to him – overwhelmed and overloaded him so completely that even breathing became something he had to remember to do. When he inhaled deeply and shuddered, driving forward a final time, Bail registered little else other than the white hard shock of release.

It took a few seconds for Bail to focus again. He looked down at Obi-Wan's flushed face and mussed hair, the man's legs still hooked over Bail's shoulders, and saw the tear streaks. He felt a sharp stab of guilt. "Are you ok?"

Eyes closed, Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm fine."

Bail started to shift and move Obi-Wan's legs to a more comfortable position, but the Jedi stopped him. "Stay inside me," he said softly. A hand reached up to touch Bail's face. "Please."

Bail nodded. There was nothing more they needed to say.

By the time Anakin arrived Bail was dressed. They'd looked, without success, for a towel or rag of some sort to clean up the sticky aftermath. But, just like the rest of their day, they'd had to improvise. Bail started to object when Obi-Wan picked up his outer tunic and tabards but there really wasn't any other choice. Besides, Obi-Wan insisted, when his bags arrived he'd have plenty of extra clothes to replace the soiled ones.

Anakin seemed a little surprised when he entered Obi-Wan's berth without announcing himself and found a Senator in the room. If he thought it was weird that his Master looked a bit rough around the edges and was only wearing his undertunic and pants, he thought better of mentioning it. The young man quickly exited on pretext of being needed on the command deck and both men were just as glad to see him go.

Neither of them said the word goodbye. They never did. It was bad luck to say things like that and while Bail wasn't the superstitious sort he was conscious of tradition and respectful of Obi-Wan's connection to the Force. Instead, when Anakin left, Obi-Wan made a show of brushing the lint off of Bail's robes as an excuse to keep him from leaving.

"I wish we'd had more time," Bail sighed.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "We must deal with things as they are, not as we wish them to be."

The comm interrupted. "General, twenty minutes to launch."

It was Bail's cue. Time to go. Obi-Wan palmed open the door and Bail stepped into the corridor. He hesitated, then turned and saluted Obi-Wan. "General, may the Force be with you and your troops."

Obi-Wan blinked, surprised by Bail's action. He finally recovered and saluted back. "Thank you, Senator."

Bail turned on his heel and quickly walked away. He didn't want Obi-Wan remember him with tears in his eyes.