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Summary: Qui-Gon uses his senses on a dark, sleepless night.
This is the first story in the series "My Padawan." It comes
before Flight.
Disclaimers: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren't mine, blah, blah,
blah.
Webpage: http://adult.dencity.com/rosalita1
My padawan is a restless sleeper. If it weren't so sithly
cold, I'd move away from him just so I could get some sleep.
Who am I kidding?
Obi-Wan rolls, his head landing in the crook of my neck, breath
warm on my throat. One arm lands across my chest as he snuggles
closer, instinctively seeking the warmth of my body.
I wouldn't move away for anything in this galaxy or the next
one.
The moon is swaddled in a thick blanket of clouds. It is so
dark that I can just barely make out his fine features.
But I don't need to see him.
For I can hear him. Each soft breath he takes is a comforting
and familiar sound. Many is the night when I have stood in the
doorway to his room listening to the quiet in and out of his
breathing.
And I can smell him. He smells of wood smoke from the fire. The
strong scent of a long day's walk clings to his skin. The spicy
tang of the shampoo he uses has long worn off, but there is
still a trace of his own unique scent lingering in the soft
hair I nuzzle into.
I can feel him. His warm body still presses against mine,
shifting incessantly, trying to expend the excess energy that
leaves him tossing like a small boat on an angry sea. Always in
motion, my padawan is.
I long to taste him. To press my mouth to his, to bathe his
exquisite flesh with my tongue, gathering up all the flavors of
Obi-Wan. I wonder what his mouth tastes like? His throat. The
soft skin behind his ear. I long to savor his nipples, his
belly, his cock. Everything. All of him.
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