Archive: Yes, M_A Archive and my homepage, others please ask.
Category: PWP
Rating: PG. M/M affection and hints at sex. If this bugs you or
you're underage, run away fast!
Warning: A very tiny one for the JA novels. Otherwise, totally
harmless fluff and my first non-X-Files story. <nervous
smile>
Spoilers: None
Summary: Keeper's Challenge story concerning Obi-Wan's spiky
hair and so much more.
Feedback: Nope, don't want any. Not so! Feedback is greatly
appreciated either on-list or off at rosalita1@mindspring.com.
Flamers will receive a dedication in my next story.
Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They are the
property of George Lucas, but he doesn't take very good care of
them so I'm watching them for awhile. I'm not making any money.
Came in at just over 800 words. Surprisingly for me, there is
no sex. Sorry, gang. I'll try harder next time. Oh, no beta,
all mistakes are mine.
Qui-Gon finished his meditation and opened his eyes just in
time to see Obi-Wan going into the final phases of his kata.
Their cabin was barely big enough to maneuver in, but his
Padawan was making the best of it, adapting his graceful
movements to account for the small space.
Qui-Gon watched the play of the young man's muscles under bare
skin as he flowed effortlessly from one stance to the next.
Watching Obi-Wan exercise was always a treat. The long mission
had been hard on his restless apprentice. So much time had been
spent in contentious negotiations that they'd had to set aside
any physical training.
In fact, there had been precious little time for anything other
than making sure the opposing factions didn't kill one another.
Up with the dawn, enduring hours of fruitless and often
belligerent negotiations, falling into bed well into the
morning hours. For weeks. It was enough to make any Jedi
consider turning to the dark side.
He pushed the thought aside. It was over now, anyway. Both
sides had finally signed an agreement, and he and Obi-Wan had
fled the accursed planet before the ink was dry on the
documents. Now they were on a small ship headed back to
Coruscant where he hoped they'd get a few days respite before
getting another assignment. It would be nice to spend some time
with his lover.
At that moment, said lover finished his routine with a
flourish, ending on his knees, panting lightly with the
exertion.
"Yes, much." Obi-Wan turned toward his master, pushing hair off
his forehead.
Another thing there hadn't been time for personal grooming
beyond what was absolutely necessary.
"Your hair has gotten long, Padawan, let me cut it for you."
"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan rose gracefully from the floor and
pulling a chair into the center of the room, sat down.
Qui-Gon retrieved the scissors from his bag and crossed the
room to stand behind the younger man. Momentarily, he let his
fingers drift through Obi-Wan's hair, exploring the
unaccustomed feel of the longish strands under his fingers.
Nice, but he preferred Obi-Wan's hair spiky. He loved the way
the bristly strands tickled his palm when he caressed it. He
took up the scissors and began cutting.
Pleasant memories of making these same motions over the years
flooded his mind. Rare had been the occasion when he hadn't
been the one to maintain Obi-Wan's close-cropped hair. He
laughed inwardly at the one time when, as a boy, his apprentice
had attempted to cut his own hair. The result had been comical,
although Obi-Wan hadn't thought so.
//Enjoying yourself, Qui-Gon?// Obi-Wan queried through their
link with a touch of his own good humor.
"Immensely, my love," he answered aloud.
A few more snips and he was done. The Padawan cut didn't work
for everyone, but it became Obi-Wan. Accentuating his already
fine bone structure, it intensified his beauty. And he was so
very beautiful. He allowed his hands a moment more of sliding
over the short hairs, then moved one down to Obi-Wan's bare
shoulder, lightly tracing the faint freckles that dusted it.
The other hand toyed with the braid, marveling at its color.
He'd never been able to come up with a word to describe the
color of his Padawan's hair. Auburn, maybe. Or perhaps bronze.
It didn't matter. To him, it looked like the very sun, warm and
alive.
He tugged gently on the braid twined in his fingers. "Soon,
Padawan, I will be cutting this off." Reluctance traveled down
their bond. "This does not please you, Obi-Wan?"
"I do not wish to leave you, Master."
Qui-Gon leaned down to plant a kiss at the nape of his love's
neck. "We will worry about that when it happens. For now, we
are together."
"Yes." Obi-Wan turned in the chair, threaded his fingers into
Qui- Gon's hair and pulled him down for a searing kiss. He
returned it with equal fervor and suddenly found himself on the
floor with an armful of eager Padawan.
There had been no time for this in the past weeks, either. He
looked into eyes that looked back at him in love. Another color
that was difficult to describe. Alternately gray, blue, green
or some combination of those hues, Obi-Wan's eyes transmitted
all that was in his soul.
What wonderful deed had he done to deserve the delight that
Obi- Wan had been to him in the past ten years? First as a
Padawan, then as a friend, and now and forever as a lover? It
had been obvious from the beginning on Bandomeer that the force
had brought them together for a purpose that would someday be
revealed.
For now; however, he would turn off his thoughts and lose
himself in all of his lover's indescribable charms.
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