Pillow Talking

by Bonny ( BonnyMagret@hotmail.com )

Archive – M_A

Pairing - Q/O

Rating - NC-17

Warnings - None

Spoilers - None

Summary – Obi-Wan receives a surprise visit while on a solo mission.

Feedback - are you kidding? Of course!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Lucas thought these guys up, and owns them entirely. I am just trying to bring them to life off screen. I not only don't make any money off this, I lose a lot because of the time and attention these boys demand.

Thanks: To Inya for her consistent support, friendship, commentaries and suggestions. And to Cuimne for the beta, guidance and patience – you're a peach. I just can't stop tweaking – all mistakes are mine

"Jedi Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan looked up quickly, his attention captured by the sibilant, yet harsh, tone of voice. "Yes?"

"Jedi Kenobi, do you agree with that?" The greenish lizard-like creature asked, its eyelids half closing in an exasperated expression.

"I'm sorry, Kron Ormsnok" Obi-Wan answered, dismayed to realize that in his extreme boredom, he had been day dreaming. Knowing that his carefully composed features revealed no change, he quickly regained his mental composure. "I can't say that I necessarily agree or disagree with that. It is my role to think through all the possible consequences, the effect on the Ligaro citizens as a whole, rather than focusing solely on the benefit to any individual group or portion of the planet."

"Jedi!" spat another Ligaro. "You always have some sort of reason to never agree or disagree with any of us." He threw down a sheaf of papers onto the desk. "This is getting us nowhere."

"Again, I apologize, Kron Oodla." Obi-Wan was working very hard at maintaining a patient Jedi-like façade in the face of this petty bickering "But it is inappropriate for me, as a Jedi negotiator, to favor or disfavor any position. You would not wish me to take sides in this matter."

"Well," huffed Ormsnok. "What good are you if you don't?"

"I am here as a representative of the Jedi Council and the Federation Senate to help you to negotiate your differences." Obi-Wan's tone of voice continued to be very smooth and non-committal. "It is not our job to provide more assistance to one side of this dispute than the other. To the contrary, my goal would be for both sides to feel like the treaty they arrive at through my facilitation is fair to one and all."

A greenish-brown creature to Obi-Wan's right pushed away from the table, swiping his broad tail across the dirt floor. "I, for one, wish to rest in the sun before the light has gone. I'm sure we could all use a break," he hissed.

For a moment, Obi-Wan had to think hard to remember which side of this controversy the Ligaro with that very reasonable idea was from. Did that matter? Not at all. Ever since he had gotten to this strange planet, the Ligaro had wanted to do little more than bicker, hiss and, whenever an impasse occurred (which was more often than not) to use it as an excuse to leave the mediation table and go soak in the algae-infested pond in front of the lodge, roll over in the hot mud and bask in the sunlight. Being a cold-blooded species, they required frequent forays into warmth to maintain their body temperatures. Obi-Wan had learned the hard way that they were even more petty and irritable when their blood was cool.

"That's all you ever want to do," groused Kron Oodla. "We're getting nowhere here, that's for sure." He too swept away from the table and slithered out the door, following his fellow countrymen.

Obi-Wan sighed and adjusted his cloak to cover his head, sliding his hands into the voluminous sleeves so that no particle of skin remained exposed. The suns of Ligaro gave off heavy amounts of omega radiation. Human skin had no natural protection and would burn quickly were he to venture out uncovered. Knowing well that the dissidents would take more than an hour before they were sufficiently warmed to return to the negotiations, Obi-Wan decided to go to his quarters rather than wait in the meeting lodge for them to come back.

What was the Council thinking, Obi-Wan wondered, as he made his way along the narrow wooden planks that led to the guesthouse. Was this the work of the Senate? Sending only one Jedi to try to settle a dispute that clearly would have been better addressed by two mediators? These creatures needed to organize separately, formulating cogent position statements and preparing for debate. As it was, they had convened all together at one table and spent endless hours nit picking and what-iffing over details that could never be resolved until the major policy decisions had been reached. One negotiator simply wasn't effective here. He couldn't meet with either group privately without the other side assuming favoritism against them. Was this mission a pre-ordained failure?

What Obi-Wan wanted right now was a bathtub full of cold clear water rather than the brackish tepid stuff he had been using to bathe since his arrival. And he wanted a cup of hot, sweet, milky caf. And he wanted Qui-Gon. He wished that the Council would heed his insistent requests that a second Jedi negotiator be sent to assist him, but they had ignored his pleas for two cycles already and seemed patently bored when he began his last communication report by reiterating the futility of continuing alone. That was a ten ago and the last he had heard was "we'll think about it." At this point, Obi-Wan was ready to accept almost any assistance that might be offered, but the persistent lack of response from *the old folks home* was only fueling his frustrations. He had spent many hours in meditation on this force-forsaken planet trying to purge himself of those negative emotions

Yes, Obi-Wan wished his lover were here. He wished he could get fucked, hard and fast. He wanted the mind-numbing kind of sex that would make him forget his physical discomfort and mental frustrations. But that was wishful thinking. Right now, he'd settle for a kiss; one of those sweet lingering kisses that Qui-Gon was so very good at; the kind where after a few minutes of adjusting to breathing through your partially-crushed nose, you gave in to the sensation that your entire universe was reduced to the essence of his lips on yours, his tongue between your lips, his breath on your cheek.

Obi-Wan was all but lost in his daydream when his attention was abruptly drawn back to the present by a small sleek-furred creature that squeaked a warning as he approached - a small gnagare. There had been one hanging around his quarters since he arrived. Since the Ligaro considered gnagare meat to be a favored delicacy, it seemed ill-advised for one to be staying so near the compound. This little one had actually seemed to be trying to attract the Jedi's attention. Gnagare were slightly force-sensitive causing Obi-Wan to surmise that the little creature was drawn to his force aura. Although Obi-Wan knew that his refusal to eat the gnagare-meat treats proffered by his hosts was probably considered a diplomatic gaffe, he simply couldn't bring himself not to be repulsed by the idea of eating a creature approved of by the Force.

Obi-Wan knelt and petted its little head, scratching lightly along the side of its head near a small whorl of an ear. The gnagare leaned into his touch, pressing against the moving fingertips, sharing its happiness at the attention.

"You all alone, little guy?" Obi-Wan asked. The animal looked up into his eyes almost as if it comprehended his words. Then it looked toward the cabin, then back into Obi-Wan's eyes, a small wrinkle appearing between its wide-set eyes. For a moment, Obi-Wan thought that the gnagare looked worried. But then he shook his head, admonishing himself not to anthropomorphize the creature just because he could feel its connection to the living force.

Suddenly there was a resounding crack and the gnagare was gone, vanishing silently into the stagnant water below the plank walk in an instant. Despite the time he had spent on this planet, Obi-Wan still jumped when he heard the frequent sound of branches cracking open in the hot dry air. Nothing to be afraid of, but Obi-Wan could understand why the little creature was skittish. It had taken him several days to accustom himself to not react to the sudden sharp bursts so reminiscent of blaster fire.

Ligaro was a small planet in the Dagobah system, which consisted of planets that were little more than swamp marshes with atmospheres that allowed in little light while sealing in oppressive heat. Ligaro was also mostly swamp, but in contrast to the other planets in the system and probably because it was nearest to the sun, the air dried out each day in the hot bright sunlight but then became humid and damp in the chill dark. The changes in humidity and temperature had done nothing to endear the place to Obi-Wan, who thought it one of the more exasperating places the Council had seen fit to send him.

Obi-Wan wished Qui-Gon were here; wished that he could lean his ear into moving fingertips that would scratch where he most liked to be scratched. For three cycles he had been separated from his bondmate; three very long, very frustrating, very lonely cycles. At least they had been able to communicate regularly, even if regularly on this outer rim planet meant only every eight to ten days. Obi-Wan could tell from the expression on Qui-Gon's holographic face when they could establish a comlink that his bondmate was missing him just as much as he was missing his bondmate. But that didn't make the frustration any less. Knowing that their communications were subject to being intercepted, they said little that was personal, nothing that was private. Just reports on how Qui-Gon was doing covering Obi- Wan's classes, and how Anakin's training was progressing. Obi-Wan could tell, though. The strain of the prolonged separation so soon after their bonding showed in Qui-Gon's eyes, and Obi-Wan assumed that Qui-Gon could see the same in his.

Obi-Wan ducked under the edge of the thatched roof over the porch of his quarters. The Ligaro had provided him with a cabin that had clearly been constructed for no other purpose than to house visitors to the planet. Its rough wooden exterior belied the luxurious interior. The Ligaro assumed that humanoids preferred to lounge on the floor, as they themselves did, but acknowledged that humanoid skin was more sensitive than their own exoskeletons. In lieu of any furniture, they had bedecked the visitor quarters with brightly- colored silky pillows which literally covered every inch of the floor. The walls were festooned with coverings of the same fabrics. There was no rhyme or reason to the color scheme – the Ligaro were able to see only in shades of red to green, so Obi-Wan assumed that they had no idea the cacophonous effect their choices created.

He hesitated on the porch for a moment, his hand outstretched to the latch. He felt a slight disturbance in the Force. He stood still, concentrating on extending his senses, trying to ascertain the source. After several moments, he sighed and reached again for the latch. He couldn't locate the source of the disturbance, but he was comfortable that it was non-threatening. Perhaps the little gnagare was back. Holding the door open for just a moment, Obi-Wan looked around, but saw no sign of the gnagare.

Suddenly, he was jerked into the room, an arm was wrapped around his shoulder, a hand across his face closing off his mouth, preventing him from uttering a cry of alarm. He was forced up against the wall. He felt his cloak pushed aside and his leggings being jerked down over his hips, the drawstring snapping in the process. He was bent forward at the waist as his tunics were flipped up over his back and his feet were abruptly kicked apart. And then a warm bare chest bent over his back, the soft pelt of hair in its center rubbing up his spine as a warm breath puffed across his ear.

"Don't move."

Obi-Wan just nodded slightly, bracing himself more firmly against the wall. Two fingers teased his anus, spreading a greasy substance, then plunged in hard and fast. Oh, it was almost glorious. The exquisite burn, the unprepared stretch, oh, Force, it felt so good. The fingers held still, giving Obi-Wan a moment to accept and adjust to the invasion. He didn't want to adjust. He wanted that delicious sensation to last forever. But he couldn't help himself. His hips wiggled, just a little, in spite of his desire to remain immobile and savor the moment.

That was all the encouragement his attacker required. The fingers scissored, at first just incrementally, then with bolder motions to stretch the passage. Long, thick blunt fingers moving with assurance and confidence. That was good, very good. But it wasn't the *great* that Obi-Wan knew was coming.

The fingers continued stretching, scissoring from side to side. Obi- Wan heard a slight whimper and realized that the sound escaping from his throat was beyond his control. The body against his back pressed down harder and the lips returned to his ear. "Now?"

Obi-Wan nodded with a small sound of needful assent. He inhaled deeply, shakily. Waiting. Abruptly, the fingers pulled back, almost out of his body, and with a twist, pushed hard across that sweet bundle of nerves, sending a jolt of electricity up through his belly that tightened like a band around his chest. His breath exploded from his lungs with a heavy grunt as his mind was suddenly flooded with a swelling tide of love and lust when his bondmate dropped his shields and let go his emotions. Obi-Wan didn't know which was better, the physical thrill or the mental blast.

One more deep thrust of those talented fingers in, and another twisting withdrawal, raking over that spot, one more wave of mental affirmation of this union, and Obi-Wan's legs turned to jelly, wavering under him as he sought for control. But his lover had anticipated that as a long strong arm wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist, a strong hip pressed against the side of Obi-Wan's exposed buttocks.

The fingers continued their assault, spreading the lube, stretching the tight rings of muscle and keeping Obi-Wan at the edge of his endurance, never quite pushing him over, but never giving him any respite from the onslaught of sensation.

As Qui-Gon leaned forward, Obi-Wan felt the long hair brush across his cheek, tickling his neck, a few strands sticking to his wet lips. "I heard you thinking about me." Obi-Wan's ear lobe was caught between teeth that nipped gently. The fingers in his ass kept moving. Obi-Wan tried to dislodge the strands of hair away from his lips with his tongue, but only succeeded in moving them to one side where they stuck. "I knew what you wanted." Obi-Wan's shoulders lifted, shuddering, as a long tongue swiped deep into his ear canal. "So I waited for you." Another swipe of the tongue set off another bone-deep shudder. "I thought you'd never quit playing with that little animal." The teeth nipped the spot where Obi-Wan's jaw met his throat. The fingers kept up their ageless rhythm. "So I force-snapped a stick." The tongue went back inside the ear; the rush sent tremors down Obi-Wan's back. "Because I wanted you, too."

"Mmmmm," Obi-Wan managed to murmur.

"I wanted to be inside you – deep inside you."

Another "Mmmmmm."

"You want this?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Mmm hmmm," Obi-Wan answered.

"You ready?"

"Mmmm hmmm," Obi-Wan answered again, jerking slightly as the fingers withdrew and he felt the emptiness in his body as a deep void.

When the arm and hip supporting him moved, Obi-Wan almost fell. He squared his body, spreading his legs for better balance as best he could with his leggings pooled around his ankles. His erection ached, arching up against his belly. His balls swung free between his thighs. He yearned to grab himself, to relieve some of that ache with a few quick pulls, but didn't want to find out the hard way that he hadn't fully regained control of his lower limbs. Then he felt strong thumbs pulling his bottom cheeks apart, something blunt pushing at his anus. He gasped as the thick bulbous cockhead pierced his body.

Again, Qui-Gon held still, giving his lover time to adjust to the intrusion. But Obi-Wan was having none of this patient gentleness and thrust his hips backwards, impaling himself on the rock-hard shaft. //Force, Obi! Don't hurt yourself.// Obi-Wan heard in his mind.

//If you heard me, you know what I want.//

Yes, Qui-Gon had heard. And he knew what his bondmate needed. He set a brutal, insistent pace, just inconsistent enough to keep Obi- Wan teetering on the edge, the only sound in the room the slap of skin meeting skin and their heavy panting. When Qui-Gon could feel that Obi-Wan was almost at the precipice, he pulled all the way out, pausing just long enough for his lover to keen, low and pleading.

//No. No. No. Please. Give it to me. Please. Want you so bad. Love you so much. Need to come. . .//

Qui-Gon never had been able to hold back when his lover got to the point of begging. He grasped Obi-Wan's hips and held on tight, giving Obi-Wan support at the same time that he gained firm purchase, freeing Obi-Wan, who could now balance on one hand, the other going unerringly to vigorously fist his own erection. Qui-Gon tilted the angle of his hips and shoved in, deep and hard, a firm pass over the now-swollen gland. Just the way he knew Obi-Wan liked it. Again. And again. And yet again. And Obi-Wan exploded, pulses of semen splashing against the wall as his body convulsed, held securely in Qui-Gon's embrace.

Qui-Gon stayed buried deep until Obi-Wan's shuddering and the muscle contractions around Qui-Gon's penis had abated. He started to pull out but stopped when he heard Obi-Wan's hoarse whispered voice. "Don't stop. Please. I want you to come inside me."

It took Qui-Gon a pause before he regained his own voice. "Yes, love." Qui-Gon resumed his thrusting with renewed vigor, abandoning himself to the sensation of the hot passage that encircled him, looser now that Obi-Wan's climax had waned, drawing him deeper. His rhythm became erratic, short stabs that concentrated the friction near the tip of his cock as he threw back his head, closed his eyes and let himself go, releasing his love and throbbing lust into his lover's welcoming body.

"Yessss," Obi-Wan hissed, the sound bringing his bondmate's attention back into focus.

Qui-Gon pulled his softening penis out of Obi-Wan's body, immediately shriveling as the dry air evaporated the moisture, chilling him. He slid gracefully to the floor, pulling Obi-Wan down onto the pillows with him. Gently, he turned his lover and drew him into a tight embrace as Obi-Wan's arms twined around his neck and hugged him close.

"Love you," Obi-Wan whispered into the shoulder that cradled his cheek, kissing the nearest patch of skin.

"Me, too."

Qui-Gon used the tips of two fingers to tilt Obi-Wan's chin up so that he could kiss those sweet lips. It was the kiss that Obi-Wan had been day-dreaming about. Tongues slid against each other as lips parted, breath wafted across sweat-soaked skin, hands traced lazy tender circles, gently bringing one another down from their orgasmic highs. Qui-Gon tasted faintly of cinnamon; those little pastilles he favored, a little sweet, a little spicy. Obi-Wan felt like he could stay forever in this kiss but his curiosity overcame him.

"How did you get here?" he asked, pulling back slightly, still maintaining as much body contact as he could.

Qui-Gon settled them more comfortably onto the pillows. "By shuttle."

Obi-Wan lightly swatted at the arm that encircled him. "You know what I mean."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Yes, but I do so enjoy teasing your imprecise speech."

"Come on. Did they send you? Or are you playing hooky?"

"After your last transmission, I went to Yarael Poof. The commissary gossip was that your reports were being filtered to the Council through Oppo Rancisis. Everyone knows that his proficiency is in military tactics. His people, the Thisspias, do not exactly enjoy a good reputation as negotiators. Yarael has a much better grasp of the skill of serving as a mediator. I was able to convince him that to resolve the Ligarian disputes, the Council could either spare one Jedi knight for two or more cycles, or two Jedi for two ten-days. Even Master Oppo can understand that kind of logic."

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling as the hair on Qui-Gon's chest tickled under his nose. "And you managed to convince them that you should be that second Jedi."

In mock indignation, Qui-Gon said "Who better to be sent than your bondmate, who can maintain constant communication with you through our bond?"

"Ah." Obi-Wan replied. Then, after a pause, "Why the surprise?"

"I tried to let you know I was coming, but when I couldn't get through, I just decided that a nice unexpected quickie might take your mind off your frustrations."

"So you shielded?"

"Ye. . .what?"

Both Jedi's attention was drawn to a chattering sound coming from the window sill over their heads. A collection of gnagare crowded on the ledge. They looked for all the universe like they were chortling.

Obi-Wan grinned broadly. "They're gnagare. They are force- sensitive. I'll bet we were really broadcasting a few minutes ago."

The gnagare chittered among themselves for a second, and then disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving a sense of happy comradery in their wake.

Obi-Wan rolled to his back and started to stand. "I'm thirsty. Wait a minute." He almost tripped on the leggings tangled around his ankles, as he tried to pull them up. With the drawstring broken, he had to hang onto them to keep them from falling off as he made his way to the fresher and back with a bottle of water.

"Never, my love, drink any water that doesn't come out of a bottle on this planet."

"Thanks for the advice," his bondmate answered with a smile. "May I assume that you make this warning based upon personal experience?"

"That would be an understatement. I had a few pretty miserable days when I first got here." Obi-Wan stopped short as he looked down on Qui-Gon, spread gloriously naked on the pillows, his quiescent penis resting on his thigh; the same penis that had just so thoroughly filled and pleasured Obi-Wan. The color-blindness of the Ligaro had the unexpected advantage of giving Obi-Wan a moment to witness his bondmate surrounded by a sea of colorful, soft silk, decadently laid out before him. Sometimes Obi-Wan forgot how physically beautiful Qui-Gon was with his long lean legs and muscled arms, his silver-shot hair spread out. It occurred to Obi-Wan that, from Qui-Gon's perspective, he probably looked a bit ridiculous, sweating from their recent exertions, fully dressed but holding his pants up at the waist.

"Hmmm. I thought you looked a little pale," Qui-Gon said, smiling, reaching out a hand. Obi-Wan tossed off his cloak, then dove back into the pillows and was snuggled into his lover's arms. They passed the bottle back and forth a few times before setting it aside.

"What about Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I left him to the tender mercies of Master Yaddle. She was more than happy to have a polite young padawan to wait on her hand and foot for a few tens."

"Oh, no. You didn't!" Obi-Wan protested. "Not her."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "What padawan's training would be complete without her infamous lessons in using the force to goose your opponent while sparring?"

Obi-Wan's retort was lost on his lips as Qui-Gon descended for another one of those long lingering kisses.

Releasing Obi-Wan's lower lip from between his nibbling teeth, Qui- Gon pulled back and said "Anakin is fine. How long do we have?"

"About an hour," Obi-Wan said. Then he chuckled. "You didn't exactly take very long to get us both off."

Qui-Gon smiled smugly. "Practice makes perfect, Padawan" he intoned in his most dispassionate *master's* voice as he lasciviously rubbed his thigh against Obi-Wan's semi-hard sex.

Obi-Wan reacted with a small whimpering sigh. Qui-Gon's smile broadened.

"I don't think I can come again so soon, love," Qui-Gon whispered into the hair just above Obi-Wan's ear. "But I would be happy to service my younger, more `virile' mate," he teased, running a finger lightly up the organ in question, smiling as it responded to his gentle touch. "If you think you're up to it."

An hour later, two fully dressed Jedi, cloaks carefully arranged to cover every bit of skin, made their way down the plank walk toward the meeting lodge.

//Let's get this done quickly.// Obi-Wan heard.

//Don't count on it. But as long as you're here to share the pillows with me, I'm not sure we should hurry the process,// he answered.

//Love you// he heard in his mind as he followed his bondmate into the lodge, grateful for the hours of practice and training that allowed him to keep the look of smug satisfaction brought on by the previous hour's entertainment from his features. And grateful that Qui-Gon had the safety pin in his pack that was now holding Obi-Wan's leggings fastened to the inside of his tunic until he could get to the sewing kit.

An Ceann