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Summary: Obi-Wan's contemplation of Qui-Gon's hands becomes an
obsession
Disclaimers: not mine, not mine, not mine <sigh> Notes:
Inspire by http://members.xoom.com/sockii/ctl1m.html and
Marag's request for smut. Thanks to Marag for betaing and
general prodding to finish.
Obi-Wan had always been fascinated by Qui-Gon's hands. So much
larger than his own, than most peoples, they were probably the
largest hands he'd ever seen, bar most Wookies. They could make
you feel safe, guided, or cut you to the bone with a quick and
final dismissal. Lately the fascination had taken on a life of
it's own and he often found himself staring at his Master's
hands, mesmerised by their movements at the most inopportune
times.
One of Obi-Wan's earliest memories of his time as Qui-Gon's
Padawan was of the subtle movements of one long fingered hand
manipulating the force in order to keep a cluster of rocks from
falling on his head. Then Qui-Gon had grabbed him, hands all
but swallowing up his own slender biceps as Qui-Gon gathered
him close.
The same hands had frequently corrected his grip on his saber,
warm fingers moving his own. They had made tiny corrections in
his stance, again and again wrapping around his calf to bring
his leg back just so, or gripping his hips and angling them
slightly away from his elbows to widen the sweep of his reach.
When he had been sick with Rhamalian Fever it had been those
hands that had bathed him, soothed his burning flesh. And when
he'd broken his leg on Tarnac, those hands had carried him to
the healers and held him while they re-aligned the bone. He'd
gripped that big hand in his own so tightly, feeling loved and
protected.
They were safety, they were lessons, they were comfort, they
were life - they were almost more familiar to him than his
Master's face.
And lately...lately he had been comparing others' hands to
those of his Master. D'Brinna, for instance, was a nice girl.
They had fun together, her compact body always warm and willing
beneath his own. However, the last time they'd been together,
he'd found himself distracted, unable to finish. She had cupped
his cheek and for a moment he'd imagined a much larger hand on
his face. A hand with calluses to fit the grip of a lightsaber.
Only then did his orgasm rip through him, leaving him oddly
unsettled when he was done and only the soft, delicate hand of
the girl in his arms remained.
Brought back to the present by the loud slap of palm against
thigh, Obi-Wan turned to watch Master Windu use his hands to
emphasise his point. Far larger than D'Brinna's hands, they
still failed to match the size of Qui-Gon's. There was no
subtlety in them. They lacked the magic that always drew
Obi-Wan's eyes to his Master's hands. The magic that held him
mesmerised; that made him wonder what it might be like to feel
those hands make their point against his skin.
His mind drifted back to their mission to Dalaine, one of the
worlds on the Outer Rim. Obi-Wan had practised with the other
youths as they ran through exercises and swordplay. His first
day had left him sore and aching, muscles not used to the
weight and immobility of the metal. The 'saber was a light,
fluid weapon, designed to move easily in it's owners hands. A
long soak in a hot bath had been what he'd wanted, but water
was scare on Dalaine. The planet's harsh sun burned the land
dry. Qui-Gon had ordered him to bed naked and had proceeded to
give him the most incredible massage. Long fingers had dug
relentlessly into tight, abused muscles, increasing his blood
flow. Obi-Wan has been quite boneless by the end of the
experience and had looked for ways to have the performance
repeated, but to no avail.
If he concentrated, the memory became alive and Obi-Wan could
feel the warm hands pressing against him. Fingers spread wide
to cover more flesh, pressing warmly against him. Qui-Gon's
legs straddling his thighs as the older man worked out the
knots, leaving behind a tension of a very different sort. The
soft, cool mattress beneath him a contrast to the hard heat of
his Master.
Realising that the room had grown quiet, Obi-Wan looked up from
Qui-Gon's hands to find both masters looking at him. He held
his blush at bay with some difficulty, unsure if they had
picked up on his feelings or if he had missed a cue in the
conversation and they were now awaiting a response from him. He
remained silent, blinking at them, keeping his eyes resolutely
away from his Master's hands. Qui-Gon and Mace exchanged a
glance and then his Master stood.
"Come, Obi-Wan. We should go before we outlast our welcome."
Obi-Wan dutifully rose and followed Qui-Gon, falling into step
next to him after a bow and quick "Goodnight, Master Windu" to
their host.
They walked along silently; Obi-Wan trying to figure out what
he'd missed. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see
Qui-Gon's hand swing below the sleeve of his robe as he walked,
the hint of tapered wrist derailing his attempts to focus. The
long fingers were slightly curled and Obi-Wan wondered what-
"Padawan."
"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan, coming to an abrupt halt.
"Would you like to come in or did you have another destination
in mind?"
Looking around, Obi-Wan realised they had arrived at their
quarters. This time he could not stop the blush. Qui-Gon palmed
open the door, standing to one side and ushering Obi-Wan in
with a flourish. A flourish that ended in an elegant hand,
pointing into their home, palm up, fingers together. It was all
Obi-Wan could do not to stop and drop a kiss onto each
fingertip.
Moving into the small welcome hall, Obi-Wan turned to bid his
Master goodnight and make his escape before he embarrassed
himself further. With a flick of his fingers, Qui-Gon brought
the light level up to medium.
"Before you go," said Qui-Gon, "don't you think we should do
something about this..." his hands danced in the air, making
vague circles as his voice trailed away. Obi-Wan swallowed, his
eyes widening.
"Yes, that is exactly what I'm talking about," Qui-Gon told
him, stepping forward. Obi-Wan managed to break his focus on
Qui-Gon's hands, realising that he had indeed been broadcasting
his fascination.
"Master?" He swallowed again as Qui-Gon moved towards him and
slowly, gently, cupped his cheeks in both hands and tilted his
face upwards. Shifting his grip slightly, Qui-Gon let the
knuckles of one hand drift slowly across his face, from his ear
to his lips and this time Obi-Wan could not stop the small kiss
as the hand rubbed over his mouth. Lowering his head, Qui-Gon
placed his lips near Obi-Wan's ear.
"Is this what you want?" he whispered as his hands slipped
beneath the edges of Obi-Wan's robe, sliding firmly over his
shoulders and pulling him close.
"Yes," Obi-Wan responded, eyes closing as his head rolled back.
Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan's robe to the ground and the hands on
his shoulders moved up, one cupping the back of his head,
holding him steady as warm lips covered his own. The other
twined in his braid, tugging on it gently before trailing down
Obi-Wan's exposed neck to flow underneath his tunic.
Callused fingertips traced the hollow along Obi-Wan's
collarbone as a tongue lapped at his mouth, demanding entrance.
Obi-Wan granted it with a moan, his own hands coming up to grip
his Master's arms to keep himself from falling. Qui-Gon began
to rain soft kisses over Obi-Wan's face while his large hands
slowly played with the clasp on Obi-Wan's belt.
"Please," Obi-Wan begged, suddenly desperate for the touch of
those hands against his skin. His belt and sash were quickly
removed, nimble fingers undoing the ties and knots with ease.
Pushing apart the sides of his tunic, Qui-Gon's hands brushed
his belly and Obi-Wan arched into the touch with a gasp. One
hand slid around to wander over his back while the other
returned to his abdomen, spanning he length of it. The gentle
touch of the swordsman's hands made Obi-Wan's muscles flutter
as Qui-Gon traced the dips and hollows of Obi-Wan's tightly
muscled stomach.
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat with delight as one long
finger slid beneath his waistband, barely brushing against the
tip of his growing erection before retreating again to dip into
his navel. Qui-Gon's finger slowly circled the small
indentation, forcing the air out of Obi-Wan's lungs and
reminding him that he needed to breathe. Obi-Wan leaned his
head forward onto Qui-Gon's shoulder, looking down and watching
as those magic hands wandered over his torso. They disappeared
behind the curtain of his open tunic as they shimmied up his
sides, reappearing again as long tapered fingers traveled
delicately over his ribs, teasing lightly but not tickling.
Obi-Wan's eyes drifted closed and a quiet moan left his throat
as a broad palm slid over a nipple, the small nub rising to
hardness against Qui-Gon's warm flesh. His Master teased his
other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, plucking gently
at it until Obi-Wan's hips began to rock in time to the soft
rhythm.
Obi-Wan wanted to cry out his pleasure. He wanted to beg
Qui-Gon for release and proclaim his love for his Master. But
he was caught in the quiet spell those hands were weaving. The
only sounds in the room were Qui-Gon's deep, even susurrations
and Obi-Wan's broken, panting gasps. Qui-Gon seemed intent on
driving him mad with those glorious hands. Obi-Wan was prepared
to let him.
Without warning Qui-Gon dropped to his knees in front of him,
large hands tugging at his pants, pulling them down to the tops
of his boots. Obi-Wan panted, breath feeling caught in his
lungs as Qui-Gon slowly traced over his flesh from knee to
waist. Each finger leaving a trail of heat behind it. The backs
of his knees were teased until he could barely keep them from
buckling. Qui-Gon's hands skimmed lightly over his legs before
pressing more firmly along his inner thighs, coming close to
his aching cock, but veering away to slide around his body and
knead his buttocks. Obi-Wan's head fell back and his arms hung
loosely at his sides. He didn't think he'd be capable of
standing much longer.
Each hip was gripped in a large hand, thumbs running sensually
over the prominent bones. Obi-Wan felt his knees buckle, but
his Master's hands held him up. Hot breath caressed him, but
Qui-Gon by-passed his erection and instead nuzzled his sack,
thumbs sliding forward to gently touch the base of his cock. A
small whimper escaped from Obi-Wan as he tangled his own hands
in Qui-Gon's hair.
Qui-Gon moved back and loosened his grip, letting Obi-Wan
slowly collapse. His hands slid up along Obi-Wan's sides as the
young man succumbed to gravity, catching in the sleeves of
Obi-Wan's tunic and deftly slipping it from his arms. Qui-Gon
shifted, sitting with his legs spread on either side of his
Padawan, turning Obi-Wan and pulling his back tight against the
broad chest. The material of Qui-Gon's robe was soft against
the bare skin of Obi-Wan's back and under his buttocks. His
Master's sleeves trailed along his hips as one large hand
grasped his erection in a firm grip.
He arched into the touch, only to have Qui-Gon release him, the
firm touch changing to a teasing caress as Qui-Gon ran his
finger over the outline of his cock, barely touching. His
Master's other hand mimicked the movements along Obi-Wan's
chest, stopping to gently pinch a nipple between forefinger and
thumb. Obi-Wan began tossing his head from side to side on
Qui-Gon's shoulder. He was begging now. Incoherent half words
that pleaded and threatened as his Master's hands wandered over
his skin.
"Watch," breathed a voice in his ear and Obi-Wan looked down
again as Qui-Gon enclosed his cock once more in his large hand.
Trembling, Obi-Wan watched his Master's hand move over his
shaft, watching those hands bring him pleasure. Soft, warm
flesh, saber-worn callused elegant fingers slid up and down his
shaft, bringing him to the edge and holding him there before
gently pushing him over.
With a shout he came, his back arching into Qui-Gon's, his come
spraying over the large hand holding him and his own belly. The
hand continued stroking, coaxing several more shudders from his
body. Obi-Wan nuzzled into the hand that cupped his face,
breath catching as a single finger began a new exploration over
cheekbones and lips, wandering down along the tendons in his
neck and circling his ear. He watched as Qui-Gon's other hand
traced delicate patterns in the come on his abdomen, his cock
stirring anew at the twin sensations. He shifted again,
pressing back into the living wall against his back, Qui-Gon's
erection nudging him through his clothing.
As if a key had turned, Obi-Wan suddenly realised he need not
remain passive and with sharp joy he touched Qui-Gon's hand,
lifting it to his face. He gently cleaned his own seed from
Qui-Gon's hand, licking at the pads and sliding his tongue
between the long fingers, sucking them in one at a time.
Qui-Gon's other hand settled on his shoulder, gripping him
tightly as his hips began to move against Obi-Wan, matching the
sucking on his fingers. Obi-Wan's body looked pale and soft
against the dark backdrop of his Master's robe.
Obi-Wan nipped at the fleshy pad at the base of Qui-Gon's
thumb, grazing his teeth along the skin before pulling the
thick digit into his mouth and sucking. He pressed his hips
back as the rocking behind him increased, the fingers gripping
his shoulder now holding tight enough to leave bruises. Linking
the fingers of one of his own hands with Qui-Gon's, he
increased the suction on the thumb in his mouth, tongue wrapped
around it, the callous on the pad rough against the back of his
tongue. Qui-Gon gave a strangled shout as he came, his hips
pushing forward, lifting Obi-Wan slightly. He continued to suck
rhythmically on the thumb until Qui-Gon tore his hand away,
resting his head against the top of Obi-Wan's, breathing
harshly.
Obi-Wan reclined, warm and boneless against his Master. He
watched Qui-Gon's hands as they pulled the edges of his robe
around his apprentice, enfolding him in it's shared warmth.
They were safety, they were lessons, they were comfort, they
were life. They were love.
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