Rating: PG-13 for lots of kissing and a little grabbing
Categories: Romance, PWP, POV, Challenge
Warnings: A little bit of smarm, maybe?
Spoilers: Not a blessed one
Summary: Obi asks Qui to evaluate how he kisses.
Notes: A while back, Mac issued a kissing only challenge. Here
is my response...finally.
Disclaimer: You know the drill - not mine, they're George's.
Why? Why? Why?
Feedback: You can feed my ego, sure. Didn't like my
characterization? Thought my adjectives were wrong? You can
tell me that too. I can take it..
I realized a year ago that Obi-Wan Kenobi is an artist. For a
long time, I viewed everything in shades of gray. Being a Jedi,
perhaps I should say shades of brown and cream. Most everything
in my life was dull and lifeless, except Obi-Wan, my light. It
should be no surprise then, that it was he who taught me to see
color again in a most unexpected way. Unexpected, but entirely
welcome nonetheless. Very welcome, indeed.
It had been about three weeks since we had been off Coruscant.
Both Obi-Wan and I were benefiting from our small break,
relaxing, catching up with friends, as well as preparing for
future missions. This particular evening Obi-Wan left our
quarters immediately after an early dinner. The sun had been
down several hours when he returned.
All the doors in the Temple operate on a repulsor-glide system.
It should have been impossible to slam one, yet my reading on
field medicine was interrupted by what sounded like a distinct
slam of the door to the hall.
I glanced up from my datapad to see my apprentice stalking into
the living area. He was muttering under his breath as he hung
his robe on its hook.
"Is something disturbing you, Obi-Wan?" I asked with concern.
It was highly unusual to see him so distraught, especially as
he had been merely spending the evening with his friends.
Obi-Wan paced in front of the couch, making a crisp turn at
each end of the rug. Finally he stopped and glared at me. "They
accused me of putting too much emphasis on kissing."
Admittedly, I was confused. "Your friends?"
He nodded and began pacing again. "We were just talking and
laughing and a discussion of the various, uhm, seduction
techniques of certain Padawans came up. Specifically, kissing.
I believe kissing is an art, not just a lead up to the 'good
stuff.' A good kissing session can be as good as sex."
I raised an eyebrow at that. Now I was curious. He knew it and
continued his explanation while gesturing dramatically. My eyes
were drawn to his hands. He had mentioned art and I noticed for
the first that he had an artist's hands. Strong hands with long
expressive fingers perfect for wielding a paintbrush or molding
clay, much more capable of a delicate touch than my own.
"When you are kissing someone you are truly communing with
them, breathing them in, holding them close. It...it can be so
sweet, so perfect...it almost makes my heart ache. I know that
sounds a bit ridiculous and I am not explaining it very well,
but I know I am not wrong in this, Master. And I would
appreciate your opinion."
Nothing unusual about that, my Padawan wanted my opinion,
albeit on a rather unorthodox topic. "Are you suggesting an
observation of your technique?" I asked.
"No, I am suggesting a demonstration. On you."
I imagine that my jaw dropped, but I recovered quickly. Obi-Wan
gave no indication he witnessed my lapse. I had been teasing
him, but he apparently was serious. "Why do you ask this of
me?" I wondered.
He looked down at his perfectly polished boot tips for a few
moments then back up to my eyes, holding my gaze with fierce
determination. "Because I trust you. I trust you to be honest
with me, without being brutally so."
I should have leapt at the opportunity, yet I hesitated. It
would be so bittersweet to know his kisses, to learn what he
tasted like, to feel his warmth against me, and to know it was
impermanent. There would be no repeat demonstration, just empty
nights, empty arms, and a mind full of jealous thoughts about
with whom he might be sharing himself. If this was what he
offered me, then this was what I should take, and be happy to
have.
Obi-Wan was watching me intently. The weak light from my
reading lap reflected hope and just a tiny bit of nervous fear
of rejection in his blue-gray eyes. Look at him, I told myself.
How could you reject him? How could you deny him this? How
could you deny yourself?
Finally, I said as calmly as I could manage despite my pounding
heart, "I would be honored, Obi-Wan, to evaluate how you kiss."
The tension left his shoulders and he beamed at me. All the
dark places in the room and in myself were suddenly full of
light and warmth, full of the joy that was Obi-Wan.
"Wonderful," he said. "Give me a minute, I need to get
something." Then he disappeared into his room. He returned
quickly with a short chair. I recognized it as the one he kept
for the young initiates he tutored in quantum equations. He
placed it in the middle of the room then snared me with a
determined look. "I have one rule. I am in charge. I lead.
Beyond that, you may respond as you choose. Agreed?"
"Certainly," I said quickly. He could have demanded I stand on
one foot while juggling our lit lightsabers and I would have
accepted his terms. Of course, I was not going to inform him of
that.
He indicated the chair. "Good. Now sit."
I sat, but my puzzlement must have shown clearly on my face.
"You are simply too tall for this to work with us both
standing. The point is for me to kiss you. And that will be
more easily managed like this." He then straddled my legs,
settled into my lap, taking part of his weight on his feet.
Ah, Obi-Wan, always concerned for my comfort. And seated as he
was, he actually had to look down at me slightly. That was
different. I found that I like it. Obi-wan was in charge, in
command, and I liked it.
For long minutes we simply sat, adjusting to one another's
presence. Outwardly I suppose I appeared calm. Finding my
center was impossible. No, I knew where my center was, and he
was perched in my lap staring at me with those beautifully
expressive eyes. Watching me with amusement glittering in their
sea depths. It would not do for him to know how eager I was. My
hands were clenched at my sides. Unsure of what to do with
them, I slowly uncurled my fingers and rested them lightly
against his waist.
Finally, I felt a whisper brush against my ear. "Are you
ready?" it asked in Obi-Wan's voice. It had to have been
Obi-Wan's voice, but there was a note in it I had not heard
before. Desire, hot and demanding. Perhaps, that was my wishful
thinking.
"Begin whenever you wish," I stated formally, hoping to
maintain my Masterly façade.
Warm fingers explored my face, brushing softly across my temple
at the hairline, followed by the softest touch of silky lips,
tracing a tingling line along my forehead. Then he opened his
mental shields and showed me what he felt in the touch. Violet
dusk, quiet and almost still, but with a tremor of expectancy.
I opened my eyes and saw Obi-Wan's throat before me. His pulse
had begun to throb more rapidly beneath the pale smooth skin.
Oh, how I longed to touch my lips to that spot, to feel his
lifebeat beneath them, to stroke that patch of skin with my
tongue. I felt uncomfortably warm and shifted slightly in my
chair, tightening my grip on Obi-Wan.
My movements did not go unnoticed. Obi-Wan pulled back from me
slightly and smiled knowingly. So sure he seemed of his place
and his power over me. If he only knew how easily he could own
me. How I longed to succumb to his touch.
As his hands came to rest on my shoulders, my eyes fluttered
closed. Then I saw shimmering blue in my mind's eye. Again I
felt his lips mapping my skin, marking me from my right temple,
across my brow, and to my left temple. Then they skimmed down
to my ear. His tongue dipped in and swirled along the contours,
outlining the shape. A sharp press of teeth on the lobe forced
a hiss of pleasure from me. More rapture followed when none to
gently that sensitized lobe was sucked into his hot mouth and
suckled ever so sweetly.
Those barely there kisses had been the calm before the storm.
Like pleasantly drifting on sunlit seas. And then the storm hit
and I was drowning, gasping for breath, desperately grasping
for something to hold onto. He had lulled me into a false sense
of security and now I was swamped, tossed overboard, lost and
vulnerable. He released my heated flesh and nudged it gently
with his nose before placing a delicate kiss where the ear met
the side of my neck. He remained there and I could feel him
breathing, feel him reaching for... for control? Could this be
affecting him as much as it was me? I dared not hope too much
and I hardly had time to ponder this line of thinking as his
talented mouth moved against me again.
Kisses were splayed across my cheek then a brief peck to the
bump on the bridge of my nose and more kisses on the other
cheek. Now visions of green, of fields and meadows and gentle
breezes through the trees. Obi-Wan rested his forehead against
mine and placed another delicate kiss on my nose. And another.
Delicious languor flowed from him into me. I murmured my
appreciation of his ministrations.
A soft cheek nuzzled along my jawline and I felt a burble of
suppressed laughter within Obi-Wan. "Your beard tickles. I do
not recall having kissed anyone with a beard before. I rather
like the feeling," he confessed. I was inordinately pleased
that my extraordinarily handsome apprentice found this to his
liking.
Even after the sweet torture of his previous explorations, I
was still unprepared for the touch of his lips against mine. I
shuddered when they fluttered briefly against mine. The picture
he showed me this time was of bright yellow sunshine and ripe
orange fruit. Warmth and sweetness. I felt him smile.
"Did you like that?"
Denying my urge to seal my mouth over his, I merely nodded. I
had promised him that he would be in control of this
demonstration, and no matter how much it pained me to wait, I
would wait. Impatiently. My eyes remained closed, my breathing
as even as I could make it.
Again that all too brief touch, but before I could resign
myself to his teasing, he licked along the line of my lips.
They parted easily and my lower lip was drawn into his mouth,
nibbled on, stroked with his tongue and released. He pressed
his chest more firmly against mine, wiggling slightly in my
lap. I gasped and he took advantage, slipping his tongue into
my mouth easily. I surrendered to his invasion, as reds of
passion gave way to searing white heat. The deepest part of the
flame, the purest center that burns away flesh and reason with
intense incendiary pleasure.
My tongue stroked into his mouth, lapping gently at the inside
of his lower lip. He moaned deep in his throat, squirming to
get closer. I held on to what was for this moment mine, sliding
my hands from his waist to cup his ass and crush him closer.
No longer was Obi-Wan kissing me; we were kissing one another.
Long, deep, slow kisses that seemed to last for eons. It was
bliss; it was agony. How was I supposed to give this up? How
could I look him in the face, see those lips that now met mine
so hungrily and not want this again?
Obi-Wan broke the kiss at last and buried his face in my neck,
sucking in deep breaths. Then he spoke, so quietly I could
barely hear him, "Oh, Master, if you were my canvas I would
paint your body with kisses. I would never kiss another."
My heart leapt with joy, though my brain still tried to deny
it. I was hallucinating, delusional. I most certainly had
imagined he had offered me my heart's desire.
I nudged him gingerly, urging him to look at me. He did not.
His head drooped until his chin touched his chest and I felt
the gentle pressure of his thoughts slip away from mine.
"Obi-Wan," I said softly, entreating him to look up. When he
still did not, I reached out and took hold of his chin. His
blue-gray eyes were wide and concerned. His face was flushed
and his lips were wet from our kisses. He tried to scramble out
of my lap, but I held him tight about the middle.
"Please let me go, Master. This was a mistake, an error in
judgement. I hope that you can forget this happened," he
pleaded.
"Forget it happened? You would have me erase from my memory one
of the most exquisite pleasures I have ever experienced?"
He stopped trying to escape from my embrace and stared at me in
wonder. If possible those luminous eyes widened even further.
His forehead crinkled. He tilted his head and grinned. "So,
just for my edification. What are you trying to say?"
Like the lovesick, besotted fool I was, I grinned back at him.
"What I am trying to say, my dear Padawan, is that I would like
to take you up on your offer."
"And what offer was that?"
"I believe it was something along the lines of never kissing
anyone but me again."
He blinked rapidly several times, as if searching his memory.
"Ah, that offer. There is a stipulation."
By this point there was no mistaking the love pouring from him.
He had opened his heart and his mind to me again and there they
all were, the colors of his passion, his devotion, his
respect...all for me. I could agree to any stipulation he might
put forth. "And what is this stipulation?" I asked.
"That you never kiss anyone but me either."
I most heartily agreed to that. And we sealed our bargain with
a kiss. Well, several kisses, but who is counting?
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