SPOILERS: Eentsy ones for TPM -- the story is set just before
the first reel of the film.
SUMMARY: I don't like summaries.
DISCLAIMER: (snort) As if. George Lucas lives about a hundred
miles from me, but otherwise this has nothing to do with him.
Don't sue me, I'm an unemployed student, and I mean no harm.
But I mean, come on, Liam Neeson and Ewan MacGregor -- what do
you expect?
DEDICATION: For Spike, who groveled, and for Te, who insisted
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Profuse apologies to all SW fanatics for any
contextual errors. I enjoy Star Wars as much as any gal born in
1969, but I'm not up on the mythology and I've only seen The
Phantom Menace once. So please excuse mistakes, and by all
means, let me know if I get stuff wrong! I'm happy to make any
necessary changes.
FEEDBACK: I'm greedy greedy greedy. :) Feed me at
laura@humandesign.com.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon looked up from his computer terminal. They were still
about two hours from Naboo, and while he felt confident in his
understanding of the situation there he felt it prudent to
spend the trip continuing his research into the culture.
Obi-Wan gestured to the illuminated board in front of him. "How
about a game?" Good-humored mischief played across the younger
man's open features.
Damn him, Qui-Gon thought with affection. He never would settle
down. True, Obi-Wan had come a long way since his unfocused
youth, could now comport himself with all the discipline
required of a Jedi. If he chose.
He forced himself to return his gaze to the terminal. "Obi-Wan,
I'm working now. As you should be."
"Here we are, light-years from any responsibilities, with a few
hours before anything official is expected of us. Why not
relax, for a change?" One of the game's holographic animals
made a vaguely obscene gesture in Qui-Gon's direction. "I'll
even let you win."
Qui-gon snorted.
"Come on, Master. What can you possibly expect to learn about
Naboo that you don't already know? And besides, didn't you
teach me to enter any new situation with a clear head?" He rose
from his chair and waved his hand between Qui-Gon's face and
the terminal. "You're not going to clear your head that way.
Only cram it full of useless facts which may cloud your
judgment at the crucial moment."
His Master met his eyes, taking in Obi-Wan's mocking humor,
unarguable logic, and something else, something that challenged
him in a way that had nothing to do with their
Knight/Apprentice relationship. Or maybe everything. Qui-Gon
licked his lips and instantly regretted the weakness, as
Obi-Wan took it in. Still, there was a lesser evil here.
"All right, Obi-Wan. It's clear you've learnt your lessons
well. Let's have a game."
His Apprentice smiled broadly, and Qui-Gon was flooded with
fondness in spite of himself. He smiled back. When it seemed to
Qui-Gon that they'd been grinning at each other for a bit
longer than was strictly necessary, Obi-Wan sat down and
punched a few buttons on the gameboard.
For once, Qui-Gon did not instruct his Apprentice in the
strategic arts during the game, did not, when his moves failed,
counsel him on what he should have done. Qui-Gon had decided to
let the young man lead himself. Besides, Obi-Wan was right. He
could do with a little relaxing, and it was seductively
pleasant to be free of the necessity of Being An Example at
every moment. In fact --
"You cheated!" Obi-Wan's face was a mixture of shock and
horror. Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms
over his broad chest, eyes twinkling.
"You--" all at once, his Apprentice burst into laughter. "You
cheated! I can't believe it!"
"You're always telling me I take things too seriously."
"Yes, but I..." he was giggling too hard to finish.
"If I'd known this would delight you so, I'd have done it
before now." Obi-Wan's giggles stopped abruptly and he looked
sharply at his Master. Qui-Gon cringed inwardly, cursing his
too-quick tongue, not for the first time.
"Oh you would?" Obi-Wan was looking frankly at his mouth now.
"I didn't realize my delight was so important to you."
Qui-Gon stood hastily. "Yes, well...thank you for the game,
Obi-Wan. I'm going to spend the rest of the trip...meditating,
I think..." he started for the ship's perfunctory living
quarters, but found himself restrained by his Apprentice's
strong hand on his arm. The younger man looked intently into
his eyes.
"You don't want to do that."
My god, was Obi-Wan trying to use the Force against him? No, he
realized. These were his own feelings speaking to him, with
such a vehemence that he swayed slightly on his feet. Obi-Wan
was right. He didn't want to meditate. He wanted...oh.
Oh.
And then the younger man's lips were on his own, and he lost
all reason in that soft warm insistence. This had to be
wrong, he insisted to himself, as his whole body screamed its
acquiescence and his hands found Obi-Wan's rusty hair, pulling
him closer. His mouth opened to his Apprentice's questing
tongue, relishing the slither of hungry muscle as it stroked
his own, then dove deeper, scrubbing the last of his objections
from his overloading brain.
Both men moaned into the kiss, Qui-Gon's hands fisting in
Obi-Wan's hair, the younger man already working to loosen his
Master's tunic. Qui-Gon smiled into the kiss. Always too eager,
this one.
"What?"
"Nothing." And Qui-Gon kissed him this time, brushing
his lips against Obi-Wan's and then sucking them, first the
lower, then the upper, then the lower again, into his mouth.
Obi-Wan giggled.
"Tickles."
His Master's response was to bury his face in the other man's
neck, devouring his throat in a series of increasingly ravenous
bites. Obi-Wan moaned and thrust against him, his still-shirted
chest pressing against Qui-Gon's now bare one as his tunic
puddled on the floor. Obi-Wan trailed his fingers through the
other man's chest hair and then pinched a nipple. Hard.
Lightning arced through Qui-Gon as the almost-pain concentrated
everything wonderful and right into the tiny point between
Obi-Wan's fingertips. He threw his head back, lost in the
dancing light for a moment, and then Obi-Wan's mouth claimed
the other nipple for its own.
Helplessly, Qui-Gon dragged them both down to the floor,
holding the other man on top of him as firmly as he could,
never wanting that perfect suckling pressure to end. Tiny
currents were running from Obi-Wan's mouth to his own nipple to
his cock, and he hoped Obi-Wan could feel them too so that he
would know that he should never, ever stop.
The Obi-Wan's thigh drove against his cock, and everything else
became senseless distraction. Qui-Gon growled and dragged
Obi-Wan's mouth up to his own, thrusting hard against Obi-Wan's
erection with his own. Obi-Wan's turn to growl, and he rode his
Master hard for a few precious moments, thrusting a
counterpoint with his tongue.
Then Qui-Gon was robbed of his kiss as Obi-Wan slid down again,
his mouth roaming over the other man's chest and belly, his
hands deftly working trouser fastenings until - oh - those
too-soft lips closed around the head of Qui-Gon's cock. Hot,
soft, yet intense, the Apprentice's mouth drew groans from him
as it slid down his length, back up again, down...Obi-Wan's
hand caressed his balls gently in smooth circles all the while,
sending aching waves through the gathering tightness in his
groin.
Obi-Wan was moving fast (impatient or just hungry?), and all of
Qui-Gon's self-control exercises couldn't save him. He didn't
want to be saved, unless it was by that impossible, oh god
amazing tongue, those pliant lips, the hand now following the
mouth up and down. Yes, yes, oh please, and the Jedi Knight
tightened his hands in his Apprentice's hair and came, a sharp
shout and protracted bucking, holding on for dear life.
Obi-Wan drank him down, riding the waves of his orgasm with a
cool confidence that might have astonished Qui-Gon had he been
able to notice it. The aftershocks rippled through him for
seeming-eternities, and then just before sensation became too
much, Obi-Wan released him and slid back up the length of his
body to give Qui-Gon a taste of himself.
Qui-Gon kissed him with gratitude, passion, and something like
pride, and then fell back to catch his breath. His Apprentice
regarded him, propped on an elbow.
"I told you you needed to relax."
Sweat plastered Obi-Wan's ruddy hair to his temple in matted
curls, glistened on his brow and nose. His tanned cheeks were
rosy; stubble flanked his swollen mouth.
Qui-Gon grinned briefly, then held out his hand, focused for an
instant. Obi-Wan's tunic and trousers untied themselves and
flew across the cabin. Qui-Gon allowed himself a few minutes to
study the now-laughing Obi-Wan's golden body, chest and
shoulders rounded with muscle, stomach flat and lean, sinewy
flanks, the whole just dusted with reddish-brown furriness,
fine and soft. It was a body he'd seen hundreds of times in
their training, but never allowed himself to admire, much less
wallow in.
His Apprentice reached for him, and Qui-Gon rolled on top of
him, cupping his face in his hand. They held each other's eyes
while Qui-Gon fruitlessly sought words, swallowed, gave in, and
kissed him again, his hand moving to the younger man's cock
which pressed against their bellies.
"Oh," Obi-Wan breathed, as Qui-Gon's thumb slipped over the
tip, and again, and again, until Obi-Wan closed his eyes.
Qui-Gon traced the thickening vein and then brought his palm
up, licked it, and returned the hand to its proper place.
Obi-Wan's cock thrived eagerly in his now-moist hand, felt so
utterly at home there that Qui-Gon felt himself stirring again
in empathic pleasure. He bent to tongue the younger man's
nipple as his hand slid up, over, and down in a pulsing rhythm
that made Obi-Wan's hips rise helplessly.
"Please..."
Qui-Gon smiled.
"Please...not yet...I want to...I want you."
Comprehension hit Qui-Gon in the stomach like a fist, but just
as quickly the shockwaves dissipated into something that felt a
lot like eagerness. And yet--
"I don't think..."
Obi-Wan looked at him intently. "Please, Master."
And then it was all right somehow, and Qui-Gon was lying down,
lifting his legs, surrendering himself again to Obi-Wan's
determined tongue, this time slippery against his bottom.
Delicate ripples of pleasure spread out in sensitive waves and
he felt himself opening under that licking, swirling, tickling,
wet probing muscle. Abandonment for an instant, and then a
blunt pressure of Obi-Wan's finger, and a sharp twisting pain,
and then oh god thrusting, gently, opening him, and Qui-Gon
grunted and concentrated and relaxed and suddenly it was all
good, it could only be good.
"More."
Obi-Wan must have known his Master had allowed Jedi training to
ease things, must have felt the sudden begging yawning
cavernous hunger around his finger, because it was replaced
almost instantly with his moistened cock. No pain this time, no
resistance, as fluid as rain and just as inevitable, Obi-Wan's
cock slid home.
Both men moaned and Obi-Wan leaned forward, clutching his
Master's shoulders as he thrust slowly, but with intensity.
Qui-Gon gripped his forearms, breathing hoarsely, his cock
smearing his belly with glassy trails. So full, so much, so
good, and Obi-Wan rocked forward and back, savoring him, eyes
squinched shut, litany of pleasure chanting itself across his
face.
But it was Qui-Gon who groaned, Qui-Gon who grunted, Qui-Gon
who hissed "yes" like a man who had never known control, much
less instructed the other in its exercise. And still Obi-Wan
pounded and strove, his fingers digging into the older man's
straining biceps.
Qui-Gon could only watch him in abandon and love, rocked to the
core and shuddering to receive every thrust, until a hoarse cry
ripped another climax from him, spattering his chest.
Obi-Wan's eyes flew open to drink in his Master's pleasure, to
drink it all, to take it all. Qui-Gon's spasms around him drew
him further, drew him over, and his orgasm threw him against
the other man in a series of shuddering gasps.
They lay tangled, Qui-Gon struggling to quell a leg cramp until
Obi-Wan gently withdrew, forcing trembles from both, and lay
down, exhausted.
"I suppose you feel that this is proper preparation for a
diplomatic mission."
"You've taught me that diplomacy requires the ability to get
inside another person --"
Qui-Gon clapped his hand over his Apprentice's mouth, laughing.
He could feel Obi-Wan's smile under his hand.
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