Disclaimer: They belong to George. I was just having a little
fun with them, again.
Summary: Qui Gon returns home from a solo mission
Warnings: None, unless vanilla squicks you. This one is very
vanilla.
Notes: I originally wrote the sex scene for this in response to
Mac's "Something more comfortable" challenge. But the opening
was trite and hackneyed. The new opening is marginally better,
but you still may want to skip straight to the sex.
I dug it out when Emu pointed out that today is the six month
anniversary/birthday of Master and Apprentice, and that we
should celebrate with a little smut. So, here's my contribution
to the party. Whose next?
Please raise your glass to the best archivist in Europe. Oh,
sorry, America. Thanks, Sockii, for doing a tremendous job.
On with the smut:
"You're home." Obi Wan did not even attempt to hide the joy in
his voice. Qui Gon turned and opened his arms. Obi Wan almost
threw himself into them, hugging Qui Gon tightly. "When did you
get back?"
Qui Gon released him. "About twenty minutes ago. I decided to
surprise you." He gave Obi Wan another brief hug. "Now that
you're here to watch over dinner, I'd like to take a quick
shower and change into something more comfortable."
"Of course, Master."
Qui Gon left the kitchen and Obi Wan turned his attention to
the stove. He didn't bother to hide his joy at Qui Gon's
return.
Qui Gon returned from his shower surprisingly quickly. Obi Wan
was setting the table. He looked up to see Qui Gon wearing a
sleeveless white shirt with a low neck and lose pants which
hung from his hips. Obi Wan swallowed hard at the sight. The
shirt emphasized his Master's broad shoulders, the muscles of
his bare arms bulged, and the way the shirt clung like a second
skin drew the eyes down the "V" of his torso to... Obi Wan
didn't bother to hide his reaction to his master's attire.
However, he managed to keep his voice calm. "Nice. Did you buy
it on Ythra?"
Qui Gon shook his head. "I found it in the back of my closet
when I was packing."
"Desperately searching for a clean tunic again?"
Qui Gon gave him a mournful look. "These things wouldn't happen
if I had a padawan who looked after his master properly."
"I do look after you properly. What I don't do is your laundry.
You're a grown man, fully capable of washing your own tunics."
"But wouldn't you like the opportunity to wash my underthings?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. I may want to remove your underthings, but I definitely
don't want to wash..." Obi Wan paused as he realized exactly
what he had just said. "Them," he finished. Turning, he fled
into the kitchen. "Dinner should be almost ready."
Qui Gon followed him. "Do you think we should have some wine
with dinner?"
Obi Wan shrugged. "Sure."
"Any preferences?"
"You choose." Qui Gon selected a bottle, quickly opened it with
a small application of the force, and handed Obi Wan a glass.
"I must admit that I have never seen anyone open a bottle of
wine with the force before."
"The force has many uses, Padawan."
"In your hands it does."
"What can I say? My hands are skilled."
"I have no doubt of that, Master." Obi Wan answered blithely,
as though flirting with his master were an everyday occurrence.
Then he thought about it. It was an everyday occurrence. Today
it was simply a bit more blatant. When had it happened, he
wondered. When had their mutual teasing become flirting? And
why hadn't he realized it until now?
"I think dinner is ready."
A few minutes later they were settled at the table. The
conversation stayed on safe subjects, covering Obi Wan's
activities and training while Qui Gon was away, the latest
Temple gossip, and what little Qui Gon was free to tell his
apprentice about his mission. Obi Wan didn't much care what
they talked about. He was just happy to hear Qui Gon's voice.
They lingered over dinner. The wine was nearly gone when they
finally rose and began clearing the table. Perhaps it was the
wine. Perhaps it was the fact that Qui Gon was not hiding his
own pleasure in being back with Obi Wan. Perhaps it was the
flirting they had indulged in earlier. Obi Wan didn't know the
cause. He did know that warm feelings of attraction were
flowing quite freely from him, and that Qui Gon was returning
them.
It was the last which shook him. He had never in his wildest
dreams imagined that Qui Gon might return his feelings. But
their was something in his Master's eyes, something in his
voice, that made Obi Wan think just maybe he did.
The last dish had just been put away. Qui Gon was standing very
close to him. "Padawan." Only Qui Gon could make his title a
caress.
"Yes, Master?" He met Qui Gon's gaze.
"What shall we do with the rest of the evening?"
Obi Wan swallowed nervously. "You should choose. It's your
first night home."
Qui Gon simply looked at him for several long moments. Obi Wan
held his breath, awaiting his Master's response. "Very well.
Senator Ptoinur gave me a recording of music from her planet. I
think you might enjoy it."
Obi Wan merely nodded, and followed his master from the kitchen
to the common room. As Qui Gon went to turn on the recording,
Obi Wan looked from the couch to the chair, trying to decide
where to sit. The chair would put some distance between them.
Obi Wan chose the couch. The first quiet notes of the music
reached him just as he sat.
Qui Gon entered the room, and Obi Wan watched him as he walked
across it. The loose pants seemed to accentuate the muscles
underneath, flowing around his master's hip and legs.
The master settled onto the couch, his body angled so that he
faced Obi Wan, one arm stretched along the back of the sofa,
reaching toward his apprentice.
Obi Wan turned so that he was facing his master, painfully
aware of how close that hand was to touching him. He forced
himself to concentrate on the music. The instrumentation was
mostly unfamiliar, the melody deep, resonant and sensuous.
The sounds added to the tension between them. Obi Wan realized
his breathing had become shallow. His eyes were locked on his
master's chest, watching it rise and fall. He wanted to rest
his hand there, feel the pounding of his Master's heart. He
knew it had to be pounding, his own was.
Qui Gon's mind brushed lightly against his. He looked up. What
he saw in his Master's face made his breath catch in his
throat. For a long moment he just looked into that face,
studying it, noting every detail. Qui Gon was waiting. Waiting,
he realized, for him. This would go no further unless he acted.
He leaned against the back of the couch, resting the side of
his head against his master's open hand. Neither of them moved
for a long moment. Then Qui Gon moved his thumb, lightly
stroking Obi Wan's cheek.
How, Obi Wan wondered, could the slightest touch be so
pleasurable? The bass from the music thrummed. Was it a bass,
he thought vaguely. Qui Gon's thumb continued it's slight
movement. His hand pushed gently at Obi Wan's face and he
lifted his head from the couch in response. A single finger
moved along the outside of his ear, then across his jawline.
Reaching his chin, the hand turned so that the fingers rested
beneath his chin while the thumb again came up to stroke, this
time passing across his lower lip. Obi Wan opened his mouth a
little in response, making more of his lip available to his
master.
Fingers moved lightly across his face, touching his other
cheek, before sliding down his face and onto his neck. He
wanted to close his eyes, shut everything out of his awareness
except his master's touch and the music which was snaking
sinuously around them, further binding them together. But he
couldn't shut his eyes, couldn't tear them from his master's
face.
He had never felt so exposed to those eyes. His master had a
penetrating gaze, intent blue eyes from which he could hide
nothing. Tonight those eyes seemed to drink him in. His
smallest movement was noted, recorded. He was almost convinced
Qui Gon could see his heart pounding.
Callused fingers moved across his neck, sliding down it. He
barely contained a gasp as they passed over the sensitive spot
just above his collarbone. Qui Gon smiled. No, he thought,
nothing was escaping his master.
A second melody joined the first. Hearing it, Obi Wan decided
that he was no longer content to remain passive. He inched
forward, moving to within reach of his master. He raised his
hand, fingertips passing along his master's cheek. Unlike Qui
Gon he chose not to dwell on the face, or neck. He slid his
hand quickly down to his master's shoulder, followed the
neckline of his master's shirt across his chest and onto the
other shoulder. His master's skin was smooth under his
fingertips. He brought his hand back to the other shoulder.
This time he stroked over the shirt. He moved his hand back
again, the path arcing lower, passing barely above his master's
nipples. He felt Qui Gon's sharp inhalation.
Qui Gon was not much given to passivity either, and his hand
moved from Obi Wan's neck, moving into and under the opening of
his tunic. The two melodies were intertwining and separating in
a graceful flow of sound, intent and focused. They continued
their explorations, still just touching each other with a
single hand.
Obi Wan was torn between wanting more and not wanting the
moment to end. This silent seduction was the most erotic thing
he had ever experienced. He feared to do anything which might
break the mood. He had always imagined that sex between he and
his master would be explosive, passionate, something which
would overwhelm Qui Gon's control and objections. Instead, he
was finding himself caught in a very controlled seduction. One
initiated by Qui Gon.
Qui Gon's fingers were tracing a pattern in the flesh just
below his collarbone.
Looking directly into Qui Gon's eyes, he brushed his fingertips
over a nipple, eliciting a gasp. Slowly he moved his hand
across his master's chest, repeated the action on the other
side, his eyes never leaving Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon's hand left the skin at the opening of his tunic and
moved over soft fabric to his belt. He easily undid it. Shoving
the leather out of his way, he loosened Obi Wan's sash. A large
hand insinuated itself into the now open tunic, moving
gradually upward.
Obi Wan pulled his eyes away from Qui Gon's to look down at
that hand. Just the thought of Qui Gon's hand on his flesh was
enough to excite him, the reality was indescribable.
The movements of his own stopped, his hand resting over his
master's heart. Obi Wan could feel it pounding. He inhaled
shakily as callused fingers slid over his ribs. He closed his
eyes for a moment, found he couldn't keep them that way. He
wanted to see Qui Gon too badly.
The man was beautiful. Strength, power, serenity, the epitome
of a Jedi. He was Obi Wan's ideal, Obi Wan's hero, Obi Wan's
most secret desire.
At the moment he did not look serene. He looked aroused. Eyes
partly dilated and lips slightly parted. His breathing was
shallow and his heart was beating rapidly beneath Obi Wan's
hand.
The main melody increased in tempo. Obi Wan concluded that as
much as he liked his master's shirt, it had to go. He moved
closer to his master and clasped the shirt in both hands,
raising it up over his master's head. Qui Gon cooperated,
necessarily removing his hand from Obi Wan.
Shirt removed, Obi Wan indulged in the sight of his Master's
naked chest. Hardened brown nipples, a light dusting of hair,
wide, strong shoulders, he drank it all in as though seeing it
for the first time. In a way he was. After several long moments
he looked back up at Qui Gon's face. Obi Wan knew he was
grinning, foolishly, but couldn't help it.
Qui Gon returned the smile, bringing both hands to Obi Wan's
tunic and sliding it off of his shoulders. The gaze turned on
him was as hungry as his own had been. Long-fingered hands
returned to his chest, running lightly over his skin. He wanted
to plead for more. These light touches were torture.
Qui Gon must have sensed his need because the touches became
firmer, less teasing. Fingers moved inexorably toward his
nipples. He held his breath in anticipation. One fingertip
circled each nipple, thumbs brushed across them. Obi Wan
shuddered. Qui Gon leaned forward, captured one in his mouth,
squeezing the other between thumb and forefinger. Obi Wan
moaned, entangled his hands in Qui Gon's hair.
Both of Qui Gon's hands moved to his back, supporting him as he
arched into his master's mouth. That mouth moved across him
bestowing kisses, nipping lightly, sucking oh so softly. Obi
Wan trembled. He fought the urge to cry out, not wanting to
ruin the mood.
He pulled his master's head upward, wanting that mouth on his
own. Never before had Obi Wan thought of a kiss as sweet, but
this one was, achingly sweet. Qui Gon was gently tugging on his
lips with his own and Obi Wan opened his mouth in response. A
low groan escaped as Qui Gon eased his tongue between those
open lips. The tempo of the music slowed again as did the
movements of his master's lips and tongue and Obi Wan realized
that Qui Gon's delicate exploration of his mouth was occurring
in time to the music.
He wrapped his arms around Qui Gon's shoulders, pressing his
chest against his master's. The second melody surged. Obi Wan
wrapped his tongue around Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon's erection was pressed against him. He controlled the
urge to press himself against it. He concentrated on deepening
their kiss, exploring Qui Gon's mouth as his had been explored.
Obi Wan was not delicate. He was almost shaking with need and
he channeled all of that need into his kiss. His hands clasped
the back of Qui Gon's head, holding it still, as he penetrated
deeply into that mouth. His master tasted slightly of the wine
they had shared during dinner.
Qui Gon broke the kiss. Moved gracefully off of the couch. He
held out a hand and Obi Wan took it.
Qui Gon led him to his bed, then moved away. Candlelight
blossomed next to the bed. Qui Gon moved to the wall, adjusted
something, and music flowed into the room.
His master returned to him, stood in front of him. He cupped
Obi Wan's face in his large hands, bent to kiss him. The kiss
was tender, slow, and Obi Wan groaned partially in arousal and
partially in frustration. The tension building in him was
becoming unbearable. He wanted to beg Qui Gon to end it. He
wanted the sweet torment to continue.
Qui Gon released him. They were not touching at all. Qui Gon's
hands moved to his waist, quickly undid the fastenings of his
trousers. Then he knelt, unfastening Obi Wan's boots. Obi Wan
helped him to remove the boots, then held his breath as Qui Gon
tugged on his pants. They slid easily over his hips. He stepped
gracefully from them as they reached the floor.
Qui Gon looked up at him meeting his eyes. His hands moved up
the length of Obi Wan's legs, stopping to take hold of his
hips. His master's piercing gaze had been softened by desire.
Obi Wan reached out and gently touched his face, felt Qui Gon
lean into his touch.
The music soared. Qui Gon licked the end of his cock. Obi Wan
shuddered at the slight contact. Qui Gon took a small amount of
him into his mouth and sucked, his tongue swirling around the
tip. Obi Wan's hands moved to the back of his master's head. He
needed the support.
Suddenly the warm softness left him. Qui Gon stood. It took Obi
Wan a moment to register the change. Then he reached for the
tie on his masters trousers, undid it with a swift tug. The
pants dropped to the ground and a barefoot Qui Gon stepped out
of them easily.
Obi Wan's eyes trailed down his master's body, moving slowly
over him. He knew his appreciation showed on his face as he
lifted his eyes to Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon placed his hands on Obi Wan's shoulders, pressing him
back onto the bed. Obi Wan went willingly, squirming backward
so his whole length was stretched across the bed. Qui Gon
followed, holding himself over his apprentice.
Obi Wan suddenly realized that his master's hair was still tied
back. He reached up and removed the tie with more deftness than
he believed himself capable of at that moment. He ran his
fingers through the newly freed hair. It cascaded downward, a
silken wall around their faces.
He didn't know who initiated the kiss. Didn't care. He wrapped
his arms around Qui Gon, pulling him downward, arching up into
his master. Qui Gon relented, allowing his full weight to press
into Obi Wan. Obi Wan moaned at the contact.
Qui Gon's mouth left his lips, moving to his neck. Obi Wan
tilted his head, allowing his lover full access.
He was nearing the breaking point. He nearly sobbed with
pleasure, with need. Please, he sent the plea along
their link.
Qui Gon stopped. Looked into his face. What do you want,
love?
You. Inside me.
Qui Gon hesitated.
"Please," Obi Wan whispered, "I want you. I can't wait any
longer."
Qui Gon kissed him briefly before sitting up and reaching for
the stand next to the bed. He opened a drawer, withdrawing a
small tube. He settled himself between Obi Wan's legs. Coating
a finger with the contents of the tube, he ran the finger
gently around the entrance to Obi Wan's body.
Obi Wan drew his legs up, offering greater access. Qui Gon
pushed his finger forward. Obi Wan groaned. He turned the
finger gently lubricating his lover. He withdrew his finger,
repeated the process. Obi Wan's hands were convulsively
clutching the coverings of his master's bed. Again the finger
was withdrawn, quickly replaced by two.
The main melody was rising, increasing in intensity.
Counterpoint followed closely behind. The two melodies began to
blend together.
"Qui Gon, please." The words were barely coherent.
Obi Wan retained enough awareness to note that his master's
hands shook slightly as he coated himself with the contents of
the tube. Then all thought ceased as Qui Gon pushed gently into
him.
It stung. It was glorious. He was stretched, forced open,
penetrated. By Qui Gon.
His master was leaning forward, a hand on either side of Obi
Wan. He looked amazingly beautiful. Pleasure and concentration
written across his face, muscles bulging with the effort to
control himself. Love surged through Obi Wan and he reached up
to touch his master.
Qui Gon turned his head, pressed his lips against Obi Wan's
palm. Then he began to move, withdrawing slightly, pushing
slowly forward.
Melody and counterpoint merged, forming a new movement that was
compromised partly of each, yet wholly new. Obi Wan didn't
notice. All of his being was focused on the flesh moving with
in him. Qui Gon's flesh. Qui Gon.
Obi Wan groaned, tried to open himself further. He felt he
would never get that flesh deeply enough into him. Never get
Qui Gon deeply enough into him. Then Qui Gon was reaching
across their bond. Obi Wan cried out at the contact. His
master's presence filled his mind and he came, calling out Qui
Gon's name over and over again.
He was aware of Qui Gon's voice joining his own. Of Qui Gon
thrusting deeply inside him, Qui Gon coming, Qui Gon filling
him.
He wrapped his arms around Qui Gon's shoulders, pulling the
larger man's trembling form down on top of him. They clung to
each other. Some small part of Obi Wan's mind noted that the
music had stopped. Not that he cared. The only thing he cared
about at that moment was the man in his arms.
Eventually Qui Gon moved to lie next to him. Obi Wan moved so
that he could look at his master, folding his arms across his
master's chest and resting his chin on them. Qui Gon was toying
with the end of his braid.
"Slip into something a little more comfortable." Obi Wan shook
his head. "I can't believe you actually used that line."
Qui Gon chuckled. "Why not? Sometimes the old ones are the
best." He grinned. "Besides it worked."
"Ummm." Obi Wan leaned forward for a quick kiss. "I also can't
believe you actually set out to seduce your Padawan."
"My very willing Padawan."
Obi Wan flushed. "Yes, well..." He tried to think of a
response. "Okay, I was very willing."
"Eager, even."
"Okay, eager."
"In fact, I'm not even certain I was the seducer."
"You were the seducer." Obi Wan's eyes twinkled. "But you won't
be next time."
"Next time," Qui Gon repeated. "I look forward to it. When will
it be, do you think?"
Obi Wan moved to straddle his master. "Now." Any response Qui
Gon may have made was smothered by Obi Wan's mouth on his.
Later that night Qui Gon pulled his apprentice close, kissed
the top of his head. "Padawan."
"Yes, Master." Obi Wan looked up at him, adoration showing in
his eyes.
"I don't think it counts as a seduction if the seduced party is
already sprawled naked on the bed."
Obi Wan sighed. "No, I suppose not." He grinned. "Guess that
means I'll have to try again when you've got your clothes on.
Maybe I should make you dinner and then slip into something
more comfortable." He shook his head. "Nah, it's been done."
Many times, he thought to himself.
Qui Gon laughed. "There is something to be said for the tried
and true, Padawan."
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