Summary: Oh, no you don't, you're going to have to read this
sucker to find out. I won't spoil the surprise.
Disclaimer: I do not own these lovely people, I just borrow
them because somebody else's toys are always more fun. I
promise to put them back where I found them, a lot more
relaxed.
Note: Just a short little fluffy piece that I wrote to cheer
myself up between sections of the other story I'm working on.
It was still dark outside when he started awake, blinking in
the dimness as he leaned up on an elbow, listening. Nothing.
Dismissing the perhaps sound as a dream, Qui-Gon stifled a yawn
and rolled back over, burrowing under the warm blankets.
Minutes ticked by before, with a sound of exasperation, he sat
up. Grumbling mentally, he rolled to his feet and padded
towards the door.
He wasn't generally a restless sleeper, but waking in the
middle of the night had the bad tendency to give his body the
idea that it was time to be awake. Too many missions where that
had been true, he supposed.
Idly, he wondered if Obi-Wan was back yet. If he was then the
door opening had likely been the sound that had awakened him.
They were on a rare vacation, two weeks before their next
assignment, and he'd allowed the young man to spend the evening
with his friends. He felt a faint touch of guilt at that.
Being Padawan to one of the Order's top negotiators had its
downsides and that was one of them. Obi-Wan barely had time to
make friends before they were whisked away on another mission.
In all likelihood he would become just as much a loner as his
master was, in exchange for being taught the ways of the Jedi.
Qui-Gon hoped it would be worth it.
Pushing aside the twinge, he quietly opened the door, his
thoughts focusing instead on nothing more important than hot
tea and a hopeful return to sleep.
Those thoughts were wiped clean from his mind at the sight
before him and he just caught himself in time from slamming the
door back shut. Instead, he closed it carefully, so that only a
crack was open that his stunned eye peered through.
Obi-Wan was indeed back. And at the moment he was half-naked
and actively entwined on the sofa with someone else. Kissing
that someone else to be more specific.
Qui-Gon stood at the door, frozen like a razorcoon in the
lights of a speeder. He swallowed unconsciously as the other
person kneaded Obi- Wan's bare shoulder's with their hands.
Some part of his brain noticed a long braid hanging off the
edge of the sofa, too dark to be Obi- Wan's. Another Padawan
then.
He flushed abruptly as he realized he had been standing there
staring for nearly a full minute and pulled back, leaning
against the wall. This was certainly unexpected. Of course,
Obi-Wan was more than welcome to bring a guest here, this was
as much his home as Qui-Gon's. They probably should have gone
to the bedroom but even Qui-Gon had to admit there was a
certain charm to making love somewhere less than traditional.
A soft gasp floated through the still barely open door, drawing
his reluctant eyes back and he peeked out again. Obi-Wan was on
his knees in front of the sofa now, the other person, a young
man he didn't recognize, was sitting up, his head resting on
the high back on the sofa, lips parted as he seemed to struggle
for air.
Obi-Wan was nuzzling the other boy's belly, rubbing his cheek
against the warm skin there. His hands were lower, fumbling
with the ties on the boy's pants. After long moments of
struggling he finally managed to work the ties free. Obi-Wan
raised his head, a soft flurry of whispering, and the other boy
lifted his hips. Qui-Gon watched as Obi- Wan tugged the boy's
pants down and off. The boy's erection bounced free, and
Obi-Wan captured it, steadied it with a gentle hand. He leaned
forward on his knees, his intention clear, and Qui-Gon wrenched
himself away from the door, sliding down the wall to crouch
next to it.
He closed his eyes but he could still hear them, soft sounds of
pleasure, muffled, they were probably afraid to make too much
noise for fear of waking him. As if they had a will of their
own, Qui-Gon's fingers crept down the front of his sleep pants,
cupping the erection that was there. He jerked his hand back
away guiltily, even as he felt a spike of pleasure from the too
brief touch. Gods, he was too old for this, to be turned on by
the mere idea of someone having sex.
His eyes were drawn back to the door, those vague moans like a
siren call. Obi-Wan was still kneeling and was now licking the
other boy's cock in long, languid strokes, lapping lightly at
the head before taking the entire length into his mouth. The
other padawan gasped loudly, brought a hand up to his mouth to
stifle the sounds that were escaping even as he arched his hips
slightly upward, towards that tantalizing mouth.
Staring with wide eyes through the tiny slit in the door,
Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan pull that cock deeply into his mouth.
Watched his cheeks work as he sucked and stroked it. Watched
him pull back to run his tongue up and down the shaft and
suddenly he found himself wondering how hot that mouth was, how
soft, how...
He stopped short in that thought, refusing to complete it. His
conscience and sense of propriety had joined together and were
screaming in unison, Have you lost your mind!!!
Force, what the in all the Incarnations of Hell was he doing?
Crouching on the floor and watching this like some kind of
lecherous pervert, spying on his padawan while he was engaged
in a most private and intimate moment?
He should get up right this instant, shut the door and go back
to bed. And add a few meditations on invading privacy to his
to-do list for tomorrow.
He didn't move. Instead, he watched as his apprentice freed a
hand and fumbled without looking in the pile of clothing off to
the side. A moment a blind searching and the hand returned,
holding a small bottle.
Lubricant, Qui-Gon guessed and was proved correct when Obi-Wan
flipped open the cap and poured some oil into his hand. He
coated his fingers with the oil, then slid his hand underneath
the boy, finding the entrance of his body and carefully slid a
finger inside.
The boy arched upwards with a choked gasp, pushing himself
further into Obi-Wan's avid mouth. Obi-Wan pulled completely
back then, leaned upward and there was another bout of soft
whispering. They kissed, briefly and Obi-Wan shifted to the
side, giving the boy room to slide off the sofa and onto the
floor.
Obi-Wan skimmed off the rest of his clothes, moving behind the
boy now kneeling in front of the sofa and for an instant
Qui-Gon had completely unblocked view of his Padawan.
When had his sweet, young apprentice grown up? Of course, he'd
known when Obi-Wan reached his sexual maturity, intellectually
he'd known that Obi-Wan had been a grown man for some time now.
It had been Qui- Gon's eyes that still saw a mischievous child,
his brain that hadn't registered that Obi-Wan had, in fact,
left childhood far behind.
And the body he saw just then was not that of a child. He was
beautiful, outlined in the dim light and wearing nothing but an
expanse of pale skin that made Qui-Gon's fingers itch to see if
was a silky as it looked. And then he moved behind the other
boy, breaking Qui-Gon's line of vision.
Qui-Gon watched as he carefully prepared the other boy,
slipping first one oiled finger, then another, inside him. The
boy had his head resting on his folded arms, muffling whimpers
as he pushed back against those invading fingers.
Obi-Wan shifted back and oiled his own cock with his slick hand
and Qui-Gon couldn't pull his eyes away from the sight of
Obi-Wan touching himself. Tantalizing peeks of skin showed
through the clasping fingers and for one brief unguarded
moment, when he pulled his hand away, he exposed himself
completely, unknowingly, to his Master's gaze.
He let his eyes caress that gleaming shaft for the brief second
that he saw it. Oh no, definitely not a child. And then Obi-Wan
positioned himself behind the other boy and pushed inside him.
If he'd thought his Padawan beautiful before it was nothing
compare to the vision of beauty he created in his pleasure,
eyes closed, lips parted, the very tip of his tongue caught
between his teeth.
Qui-Gon's treacherous fingers crept downward again, cupping
even more treacherous flesh and this time he didn't pull them
away. Instead, he drank in the sight before him, taking in
every detail and committing them to memory; the fine trickle of
sweat that ran down Obi-Wan's back, the way the muscles in his
hips flexed with every thrust.
His hand began to match those thrusts, stroking in time with
each deep lunge. Qui-Gon could hear every sound they made,
sounds that they were trying desperately to contain and
failing. He could tell which sounds were his Padawan's, knew
each moan, each gasp that was his. Obi-Wan had pressed his face
against the other boy's shoulder, trying to suppress his
growing sounds of pleasure.
Stroking himself almost desperately, watching the two boys
coupling in the other room, he held back, waiting, waiting...
Obi-Wan made a soft keening sound, thrust hard into the other
boy, his entire body shaking and then Qui-Gon allowed himself
to come. His eyes finally closed as he shuddered in guilty
pleasure and behind his eyes he was the one being taken.
A moment longer he sat there, until the coldness of the floor
began to seep through his thin pants. One last glance out the
door, they were embracing now, both their expressions content
as they lightly stroked each other.
He let his gaze linger on Obi-Wan just a second longer and then
he carefully shut the door. Cleaned himself with trembling
fingers and fairly dove back into his bed, keeping his mind
carefully blank. His conscious was asking questions that he
didn't have answers to and there was enough time to think about
this later, he decided sleepily. At least now I'm tired
again.
Obi-Wan kissed Thian one last time before whispering yet
another soft goodbye and shutting the outer door. He stretched,
groaning at the pleasant warmth that still clung to him and
began to gather up his clothes. He looked around the room with
a critical eye. Deciding everything was in order, he went to
his own room for some much-needed sleep, but not before casting
a speculative look at the door to his master's bedroom. Next
time, Master, he thought, a wicked smile curving his lips,
Next time you're going to do more than watch. That's a
promise!
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