SUMMARY: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan. Sexual situation. H/C, pre-slash.
When Obi-Wan becomes injured as he and Qui-Gon are fleeing yet
another hostile populace, will he have a chance to show Qui-Gon
how he truly feels?
NOTE: A very tiny tale. I was dared to write a story that
contained these three terms: Fritos, king cobra and tree. This
is the result. :)
ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible and wherever you like.
Obi-Wan sank down into the thick grass, panting from his
Force-assisted run.
His companion sat across from him, back against a tree, eyes
slightly closed. Only the drooping eyelids and the sweat on his
forehead betrayed the Jedi master's fatigue from their hasty
journey cross-country.
"I... didn't... think that the Fritos... would be so...
hostile..." Obi-Wan said.
"Fritans, padawan."
Obi-Wan took a moment to catch his breath. "Fritans then."
Tired as his master was, Qui-Gon still found the strength to
teach and correct. Sternly, he said, "That small difference
almost cost us our lives, and certainly cost us any chance we
had to negotiate a settlement here. The Fritans are very
particular about how they are addressed."
Obi-Wan nodded, chastened. "Yes, master."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened, and Obi-Wan wondered through the
exhaustion he felt, what further he'd done wrong, just as he
felt a sharp prick in his thigh.
He had the time to look down, but no more than that before his
vision went fuzzy and he grayed out. I'm going to be doing
training katas for the next three weeks, he thought wryly
even as he struggled against unconsciousness. A padawan,
younger and stronger presumably than his master, was not
supposed to pass out first from over-exertion.
It was a brief battle, which he lost as easily as someone
wielding a piece of straw might lose to a Jedi master equipped
with a lightsaber.
Coming back to consciousness, Obi-Wan registered first the
pain radiating from his leg. Dull and throbbing for the most
part, with a center of something so sharp that it didn't count
as pain at all. Can't feel it yet. It'll hurt worse when I
do.
That was enough to make him want to seek out the safety of the
buzzing grayness again, but then he felt the warmth of skin
resting against his thigh, heat traveling from that
skin-to-skin contact up his spine. Good. Oh, so very good.
Obi-Wan spared the energy to glance down, and became more
aroused as he saw Qui-Gon's head bent over his leg, mouth so
very close to his groin, nuzzling and suckling at his flesh.
Pain? He'd felt pain? Unimportant. Trivial next to this.
Obi-Wan groaned as he thrust involuntarily, wanting more. How
had Qui-Gon come to be doing this? Did it matter?
His master's eyes flicked up to him. "Try to remain still,
Obi-Wan."
The faint traces of pain, his exhaustion and the head on his
thigh combined to keep him quite willingly in a hazy state of
half-consciousness. "Ooh, kinky," he breathed.
"Kinky?" His master's eyebrows shot up, but Qui-Gon returned
his mouth to Obi-Wan's skin a moment later.
"Staying still. Kinky."
Qui-Gon didn't reply, and Obi-Wan brought his hands up,
sinking them into his master's hair. With trembling hands, he
loosened the hair tie, and let the half-silky half-gritty mass
flow through his fingers.
He sank his right hand into it, caressing the older man's
head, encouraging him to keep doing what he was doing.
His left roamed down his master's back. Somewhere, somehow,
Qui-Gon's robe had disappeared, and Obi-Wan was glad of it, as
he reached under the loose tunic to find bare skin.
That touch, that feeling was what he wanted, and he let his
eyes close, experiencing the sensations.
He was already hard, but he obeyed Qui-Gon's command and kept
his pelvis still, letting his master touch him as he pleased.
If only Qui-Gon would leave his thigh alone! It was an erotic
spot, but not nearly enough.
"Please," Obi-Wan moaned. "I want you, Qui-Gon."
His master did not answer, and Obi-Wan resigned himself to the
delicious torment. It was enough that Qui-Gon was touching him,
enough to know that Qui-Gon wanted him, that this was
happening, however slowly.
When his master finally raised his lips, Obi-Wan groaned with
relief. "Please, take me now."
Instead of the expected wet suction of a mouth against his
aching erection, a gentle hand touched his forehead. "You don't
seem to be feverish."
Obi-Wan licked his lips, and opened his eyes to meet
Qui-Gon's. "I feel like I have a fever," he said huskily.
"Sith. I thought I removed all of the king cobra venom from
the wound. Do you think you can make it back to our ship?"
"Venom?" His voice shook, and certain connections began to
form in his confused mind.
"You were bitten by a snake, padawan."
Obi-Wan looked down. Without his master's head in the way, he
could see a healing puncture wound. Qui-Gon had been using
healing force on him, not... not what Obi-Wan had thought he
was doing.
He definitely wanted to be unconscious. But that wasn't an
option. Obi-Wan colored. "I..."
"Don't try to speak. I can see you're delirious. Don't worry,
everything will be all right."
And with that, Qui-Gon efficiently got Obi-Wan to his feet,
and back into his clothes. The Jedi master then swept his cloak
up off the ground that Obi-Wan had been resting on. Putting an
arm under Obi-Wan's shoulder, Qui-Gon said soothingly, clearly
unaware or willing to be unaware that his padawan had just had
the most sexual experience ever on a mission. Or with his
master. "You'll be fine. I'll see to you."
Obi-Wan clung to Qui-Gon, still dizzy, but no longer quite as
confused. No, master, he thought softly into the privacy
of his own mind. I don't think I will.
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