Disclaimer: The boys and the rest of the SW universe belong to
Mr. Lucas. I'm just borrowing them, because even fictional
characters need a vacation now and then... I'm not making any
money off this. If I were, I wouldn't be so desperate for
cash...
Archive: Yes to Master&Apprentice, OKEB, WWOMB, and my
homepage. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Q/O.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Obi-Wan gives Qui-Gon a special birthday present.
Categories: PWP, First Time.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to the #tpm crew, and especially
Mercutio, kaly and Iro.
Author's Note: I don't use betas, so all mistakes are mine.
Plus, I wrote this in around two hours, late at night. Please
be forgiving. <smile>
Feedback: Of course! Feedback is my drug of choice, and when I
go into withdrawal I stop writing.
This fic is for Keelywolfe, who expressed the desire for smut.
I hope this fits the bill. <g>
The lap dance bunny was donated by our resident Bunny Breeder
and Medic, Kalia. Thanks!
The folk in #tpm late last night were as much responsible for
how that story turned out as I was, with their quick responses
to multiple polls. <g> I don't know how I wrote without
you guys!
Obi-Wan took a deep, calming breath and hurried back to the
quarters he shared with Qui-Gon. He wondered yet again how he'd
let Bant talk him into this. In the planning, it had seemed
like a bold move, maybe even a good idea. She'd pointed out
that he'd been trying to work himself up to talking to Qui-Gon
for months and that every time he tried, he ended up diverting
the conversation at the last moment. Obi-Wan, being relatively
sure that Qui-Gon returned his feelings, had allowed himself to
be talked into a less...verbal form of expression.
But now, hurrying down the halls with his cloak wrapped tight
about his body and silk sliding smoothly against his skin, the
padawan was having some serious doubts. The only thing
preventing Obi-Wan from opting out of the plan entirely was
something Bant had said. Not a threat precisely. Just an
offhand comment about speaking to his Master the next morning.
Reaching their quarters, Obi-Wan took another deep breath and
slipped inside, half-hoping Qui-Gon had gone out for the
evening. He found his master sitting on the couch, sipping a
mug of tea and reading a datapad. "Good evening, Obi-Wan," he
said. "Where have you been?"
"With Bant. She was...ah...helping me get your birthday present
ready," Obi-Wan answered, horrified to find that he was
blushing slightly.
"Oh?" Qui-Gon asked, plainly curious. Obi-Wan watched his
master's eyes flicker over him, noting the cloak he was holding
shut far too tightly and the lack of parcels of any kind.
"Yes," Obi-Wan said firmly, more for himself than Qui-Gon. He
moved to a panel on the wall and then hesitated and turned to
his master. "Just...watch. Don't say anything until I'm done."
Qui-Gon nodded and set the datapad aside.
Obi-Wan turned back to the panel, dimmed the lights a little,
and brought up the song he and Bant had selected. Turning his
back on his master, Obi-Wan let his head hang a little and
closed his eyes, concentrating on the rhythm of the music. With
a slight shrug of his shoulders, the formless Jedi cloak slid
to the floor. What he wore beneath was certainly not the
layered Jedi tunics. A sapphire blue silk shirt clung to Obi-
Wan's shoulders and caressed his back as it rippled in response
to his movements. His legs were clothed in black, the material
drawing the eyes even as it teasingly concealed the limbs
within.
Obi-Wan was committed now, so he let the music take him, let it
move through him and guide him much as the Force did. He turned
to face Qui-Gon, and the older Jedi had to bite back a gasp.
The silk shirt was open to the waist, revealing a smooth,
strong chest sprinkled lightly with hair. Obi-Wan's eyes were
still closed as he trailed his hands up his own body, hips
twisting to the slow beat of the music.
Qui-Gon realized suddenly that Obi-Wan was moving closer to
him, the dance carrying him forward until the younger man stood
practically straddling his master's legs. Qui-Gon found that he
was holding his breath, looking up at his Padawan writhing so
sensually, so close...close enough to touch.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes then, catching Qui-Gon's heated gaze,
and relaxed a little. His tongue flickered out and wet his lips
unconsciously. Sliding one hand inside his shirt and across a
pebbled nipple, he pushed the silk off one shoulder and slipped
his arm out of the sleeve. Pulling the shirt off his other arm,
Obi-Wan stretched it between his hands and hooked it behind
Qui-Gon's neck. The padawan leaned down close enough to
kiss...and then pulled away without brushing lips. The silk
shirt was drawn across Qui-Gon's skin and fluttered, abandoned,
to the floor.
Obi-Wan turned away, but before it could even occur to Qui- Gon
that he was leaving the younger man slid into his lap. Back to
chest, Obi-Wan let his head rest on Qui-Gon's shoulder, his
body still moving to the music. Qui-Gon couldn't restrain a
slight moan, his erection teased to further hardness by the
pressure of Obi-Wan grinding against him.
Then the extra stimulation disappeared as Obi-Wan surged up out
of the cradle of his Master's hips. He didn't go far, merely
turned to face Qui-Gon, his hands sliding into the waistband of
the black pants... Qui-Gon held his breath in anticipation, and
then the garment slithered to the floor, exposing more skin to
the touch of Qui-Gon's eyes. The older man gasped a little and
reached out. Obi-Wan stepped into the touch, allowing his
Master's hand to slide across his hip and settle against his
lower back. The music drew to a close with the Padawan kneeling
naked astride Qui-Gon's lap, hands resting on his shoulders.
Qui-Gon opened his mouth and found himself momentarily unable
to speak. Obi-Wan smiled. "Did you enjoy your present, Master?"
he asked quietly.
"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon finally managed.
Obi-Wan nodded a little and climbed out of his master's lap,
turning as if to retrieve his clothing. Qui-Gon stood quickly
and seized the younger man's arm, spinning him into his arms.
Qui-Gon captured Obi-Wan's lips with his own and found the
Padawan ready, his mouth eager and demanding.
They lost themselves in the taste of the other, Qui-Gon's hands
exploring familiar skin made new and exciting by the flush of
desire. Obi-Wan tugged at the layers of clothing that
frustrated his need to feel warm skin beneath his palms.
Parting briefly, the two men disposed of Qui-Gon's tunics and
came together again, moans of delight spilling from their lips
at the first of meeting of eager flesh.
Qui-Gon reluctantly left Obi-Wan's mouth to taste the skin of
his shoulder and throat. Large hands moved from cupping a naked
hip to the curve of Obi-Wan's buttocks. The padawan drew
Qui-Gon to the bedroom, impatient to feel the weight of his
lover atop him. Qui-Gon went and was drawn down onto the bed,
Obi-Wan beneath him, arching into the press of his body.
Qui-Gon used his lips to map his new lover's body, exploiting
each sensitive spot until Obi-Wan was writhing more intensely
to his master's touch than he had to the music. Obi-Wan was
helpless to do anything more than grip Qui-Gon's shoulders and
undulate against him, any thought of reciprocating lost in
waves of pleasure. Qui-Gon didn't mind, his body drawn taut
with arousal just from the taste of Obi-Wan, the texture of the
skin beneath his lips.
Finally, Qui-Gon could bear to tease no longer. He bent his
head and licked a bead of liquid from the tip of Obi-Wan's
erection. The brief touch of Qui-Gon's tongue pulled Obi-Wan
from the haze of pleasure and he sat up slowly, pushing his
master into a kneeling position. Obi-Wan straddled Qui-Gon,
silencing the older man's objection with a kiss. The master's
protests died away as he felt himself sinking into a slick
passage already prepared for him.
After a long moment, Obi-Wan carefully began to move, sliding
up and down the sleek hardness that filled him. Leg muscles
tight with effort, Obi-Wan lifted himself one last time and
came as he sank down and Qui-Gon brushed his prostate lightly.
The older man followed a moment later, the grip of Obi-Wan's
muscles overwhelming his control.
The lovers collapsed onto the bed as the tension left them.
Qui-Gon lay on his back, Obi-Wan in his arms, and they smiled.
Talk could wait until morning.
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