Pairing: QG/OW
Category: Romance, Humor
Rating: NC-17 at least
Archive: MA and any others interested. Just let me know!
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Upon returning to Coruscant, our sex-starved Jedi hit
the ground running...
Feedback: Yes, please! We all thrive on feedback! [g]
Disclaimer: These characters are so not mine. They belong to
Lucas That Is. I make nary a cent.
"Master, I promise you, I am going to die."
The ship bound for Coruscant was a very small courier. There
was a pilot's alcove, a tiny storage compartment and one
cramped cabin. One thin-walled, tight-fit cabin, which shared a
wall with the pilot's alcove.
"Obi-Wan, your fortitude is legend. You will survive."
The young man shifted on the thing some fool had dared to call
a bed. To his mind, it had more in keeping with a shertstone
bench he was acquainted with in one of the tranquility gardens
in the Temple. His backside agreed.
"Master, your fortitude is legend. Mine is now ruled by
a single- minded beast seething with rampaging hormones."
Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile. "Padawan..." Both voices were
pitched much lower than the average ear could hear. And the
pilot was a Dulgan. But discretion was ever the better part of,
well, everything. "Padawan, we are Jedi. Stoic is our middle
name. Stoic is our bread and butter." He took a deep breath.
"Stoic is...all we have, at the moment." He blinked slowly and
let the rest of the breath out in a soft whoosh.
Obi-Wan rolled a glare over his Master's face, not missing the
tiny tic, barely visible to even stoic eyes, playing quietly
around the left corner of those firm lips. Maybe, just a brief
kiss... But no, that would be like handing a full water skin to
a desert nomad. So, the glare continued. "Six weeks, Master.
Six weeks of no touching, no kissing, no hugging." His jaw
clenched once and he leaned a bit closer. "No. Fucking."
A soft chuckle shivered through Qui-Gon's body and Obi-Wan
pushed closer. "Master, I am toxic. I need to explode. In fact,
I need to explode many times." He rolled tense shoulders back
and down. "When we hit the Temple, we do not stop
anywhere. If somebody says hello, we wave. If the Council wants
a meeting, we write them a letter."
"Padawan..."
Obi-Wan shook his head ruefully. "I know, I know. It was a
matter of protocol and custom. And I know it will likely happen
again." He sighed. "But it's damned hard."
Qui-Gon draped a long arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder and
squeezed. Leaning in a little, he let the short, soft hair
brush lightly across his lips. "My love, I promise that, very
soon, you shall explode to your heart's content. And I shall
match you, blast for blast."
Obi-Wan's fingers curled against his trembling legs before he
could speak coherently. "I sincerely hope to loose count,
Master. I sincerely do."
The next ten hours passed very, very slowly.
It seemed to take forever for the ship to dock and when it
did, the Dulgan took forever to get his slow self through the
endflight procedures. By the time the door panel slid open,
Obi-Wan was bouncing gently on tense legs, holding tightly to
his calm and his dignity.
"Padawan, we will not run." The door slid silently
aside. "But we can stride very fast indeed."
Obi-Wan snorted. "Master, I have medals. I can stride like the
wind!" He turned his head, raked one sultry look from Qui-Gon's
head, down to his toes, and let his soul look back up into
those radiant blue eyes. "Why are we still standing here?"
Qui-Gon smiled and they were off.
Strangely enough, they made pretty good time. In fact,
everyone seemed surprised to see them. Each Council member they
passed greeted their whirlwind passage with a wide-eyed "You're
back? But they're not finished yet..."
"What do you suppose they mean, Master? We were surely
finished in that Force-forsaken pandemonium someone carefully
labeled a treaty negotiation. So why shouldn't we be back?"
Qui-Gon's face was wearing a thoughtful look and as they
rounded the corner of the hallway to their rooms, he pulled
Obi-Wan to a stop and gestured. "There's your answer."
The door to their quarters stood wide open and from the
interior came the sounds of a tremendous racket. Not only were
various items of furniture stacked along the walls of the
corridor, but it seemed every possible kitchen appliance of a
movable nature was residing on a universal dolly with the very
apparent intent to leave the premises for good.
"Obi-Wan, it seems we have finally been scheduled for that
long- overdue rennovation."
Face pale, Obi-Wan clasped his Master's hand and groaned.
Quietly. "Somehow. Somewhere." Looking up, he caught the spark
in those sapphire eyes. "You've got a plan, haven't you?" He
grinned.
Qui-Gon drew in a bushelful of air and looked down his proud
nose. "I always have a plan." The wink was a mere flick
of his lid. "Always."
And they were off.
Four levels down was a little-used practice room and in a
matter of seconds, they had stepped in and the lock was palmed.
For a moment, they just stood there, drinking in the sight of
beloved features, sharing expressions of expectation and
desire. But only for a moment.
With a shout of delight, Obi-Wan launched himself through the
air and was caught in strong arms, pulled up against a shaking
body and kissed breathless. Wrapping his legs tightly around
his Master's waist, Obi-Wan sucked in the taste and scent he'd
been denied for too long, little moans sobbing through his
throat as he pushed his erection as close as possible to
Qui-Gon's heat. Leaning back against the wall, Qui-Gon allowed
his hips free rein, thrusting in little jerks as he sucked an
oh-so-willing tongue and tried to decide at what point to stop
and at least take off the robes.
The voice was barely audible and he couldn't understand the
words. "Obi-Wan. Love. This is no time for a discourse. We must
get horizontal." His throat was now thoroughly licked, sucked
and nipped and, without recourse to the floor, he knew that
falling down was soon to be an option. "Obi-Wan, how can
you...?" And then it hit him. The voice was outside of the
door. And somebody was testing the lock.
"Padawan!" Pulling the arms from around his neck, he held
Obi-Wan away and hissed, "Someone is trying to get in. Compose
yourself!" Moving to the center of the room, he knelt and
pulled the young man down beside him. Looking a trifle stunned,
Obi-Wan straightened his robe and closed his eyes, just as the
door slid open.
"Oh, I say, Clapper, this'll do swell! It's just the right
size and I dare say nobody will bother us here!"
"Told you so, Jaggs. Hardly anyone knows about this... Ooops."
The voice dropped to a whisper. "Whose that? Looks like they're
meditatin'"
"Dang it! That's Master Jinn and his Padawan... Uh, hello.
Hello... We didn't mean to, to..."
"We didn't know anybody was here. So sorry!"
The Master and his Padawan were all grace and dignity as they
stood and bowed. Qui-Gon bestowed a gentle smile on the two
young men and spoke quietly. "It's quite all right. Our
meditation had reached its pinnacle and we were ready to
depart. Please. Don't apologize. May the Force be with you."
And they sailed grandly out, leaving a somewhat befuddled pair
of young knights behind.
"Master." The voice was a bit tense as they stepped into the
elevator. "Somehow. Somewhere." The glare was back. "Yes?"
"Yes. Oh, yes, my Obi-Wan." His lips compressed for a moment
and then he smiled. "I have...another plan."
For just a moment, Obi-Wan looked at him. "Right, Master."
And they were off.
High atop the North Tower, Obi-Wan could hear the wind singing
as it made its way around the curves and braces of the mighty
structure. Within the high walls, the tiny room seemed an
afterthought, a mere pocket in the huge building below them. It
also appeared long- deserted. Dust lay thickly all around and
the only furniture was the floor. But it was empty. And it was
theirs.
With a deep sigh, Obi-Wan slipped his hands under Qui-Gon's
tunic and ran rough thumbs over the peaked nipples as he
slipped his tongue into the mouth pressed tightly to his. They
were almost waltzing, moving in little bucking circles around
each other, sucking, tasting, gasping. Obi-Wan let his hands
slip down, caressing the firm stomach, lingering at the navel,
leaning into the broad hands kneading his butt. Taking a
desperate breath, he turned his head and trembled as the soft
beard and sucking kisses found that special spot behind his
ear, sending shivers down his thighs.
Slipping loose the tie from the well-worn leggings, Obi-Wan
reached for the slick shaft he'd already felt pressing against
him through the coarse cloth. It was hot and hard, like
silk-covered durasteel, and pulsed as he squeezed. Qui-Gon
caught his mouth again, sucking and licking with little moans
and Obi-Wan shifted his grip. Letting one hand cup and knead
the swollen sac, he ran the thumb of his other hand up the
underside of the thick length, then smoothed the hot droplets
in little circles around the tip. Qui-Gon sagged, pulling
Obi-Wan up tight against him, gasping his name.
They both heard the voices at the same time. Because they were
loud. Because they were close. Very close.
"Noooo..." Obi-Wan's groan came from the gut. "No, no, no. It
can't be. Please, no..."
Qui-Gon was taking deep breaths, trying to stand up. "Oh, yes.
Ghods..." He pushed Obi-Wan away and tied the leggings with
trembling fingers. "It sounds like Senator Mubling. His voice
is like none other. Quickly, Padawan. Composure, dignity. And
all that." Swirling the blessed robe into a loose tent, he
turned to face the door.
Obi-Wan swayed a moment, eyes closed, then straightened with a
grunt, clutching the front of his robe. As he turned, the door
slid open, revealing the sight of two overdressed beings.
"Here, Gen Somo, is my favorite spot. It will give you the
best view of an amazing architectural balance not to be found
elsewhere. You see before you..." Senator Mubling stopped at
the sight of two Jedi, standing calmly, peacefully in his
favorite spot.
"Master Jinn? What...? I'm sorry! I didn't expect..."
"No, no, Senator. No apologies necessary. The view is...quite
nice from this exposure. Um, spot. I was showing my Padawan..."
The bow was circumspect, yet perfect. "...yes, thank you,
Obi-Wan. We plan on visiting each tower at some...point, to
study the view of the mouth-watering...uh, no...the
marvelous...views of the surrounding architecture." Letting his
robe billow discretely, Qui-Gon clasped Obi-Wan's arm and began
sidestepping out of the chamber. "Perhaps...perhaps we will
meet again as you...uh, tour the facilities." Bowing low toward
the bewildered officials, he shoved Obi-Wan out of the door.
"May the Force be with you."
Holding his breath on a long inhale, Obi-Wan walked
uncomfortably to the elevator and let his head thunk against
the wall. "Master." One step from a scream, he sounded. "Oh,
Master. I. Am going. To pop."
"Oh, no, you're not, my love. Not until my legs are wrapped
around you and I'm swallowing your tongue." Centering the wild
energy roiling through his gut, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into the
open elevator and punched a tab. "This time we go where really
absolutely no one ever goes and we pop together." Still
holding Obi-Wan's arm, he sagged against the wall and counted
floors.
"Somehow. Somewhere." Obi-Wan's voice assumed the tone of a
mantra. "Somehow. Somewhere." He shuddered. "Or else." He
shuddered again.
Qui-Gon frowned. "Or else, what?"
"Or else we squat in the Central Foyer, Master, and flood the
entire floor." His glare was becoming persistant. "And I mean
it!"
Qui-Gon swallowed. "No,no. We haven't reach that point yet.
Stop mumbling! I have another plan. No! Really... This one
can't miss. You'll see."
And they were off.
The garden was one of the old ones, out of the way and pretty
much forgotten. It was full of huge demmor palms, the fruit
hanging in large pink globes covered in tough scales. The scent
was delicious. A little path ran through the center of the
garden, near a small waterfall, and it was to a tiny dell just
off this path that Qui-Gon led them.
Stepping in among the soft fronds, Obi-Wan caught his breath
and looked around in wonder. "It's beautiful, Qui-Gon. It's
perfect." He eyed the thick carpet of grass and smiled, rather
grimly. "The perfect place to fuck. Now. Before the Temple
drops in. Or the entire..." He gasped. The long arms were
around him from behind, the big hands were down his leggings,
cupping him, squeezing, caressing, pulling, stroking. With a
sob, he dropped to his knees, bent double around the heat and
the relief. Then long legs cradled him on both sides and he was
pulled back against the hard body, hot kisses braising his
neck, his ears, the corner of his jaw. Clutching the arms
holding him tight, Obi-Wan thrust into the heat and friction of
the obliging fingers. "Qui-Gon! Please!"
"Yes. I know. It's good, it's so..."
Obi-Wan felt it the instant his Master did. The clear yet
subtle call through the Force that signaled the near presence
of Master Yoda.
It was hard. Harder than the worst treaty negotiation ever
wangled by the pair. Harder than the hardness gripping their
bodies. With admirable strength, with a grip on the Force that
would have done a Life Master proud, they sucked it in. It took
only moments, for moments were all they had.
As the venerable Master Yoda rounded the corner of the path
leading up to the dell, his eyes were greeted by a glorious
sight. Master Jinn and his Padawan were sitting, knee to knee,
head to head, eyes closed in some form of meditation. Lightly
testing the energy field surrounding them, Yoda smiled and
whispered to the swaying greenery around him. "Always testing
boundaries, they are." He closed his own eyes. "Know this one,
I do not. Hmmm. Very powerful. Full of Life Energy." The
ancient eyes opened. "Disturb them, I shall not. When ready
they are, to their new quarters they shall come. As the Force
wills." With a gentle wave of blessing, the small Master turned
and made his way back up the path.
For long moments, the two figures held motionless, as one with
the greenery surrounding them. And all was silent in the dell.
Then, slowly, the shorter figure bent over until his head was
in the lap of the taller man and the sound of ragged laughter
arose through the greenery. "Somehow, Master..." His voice
caught on a snort and he slapped his knees.
"...Somewhere, Padawan." Chuckling quietly, Qui-Gon cupped
Obi-Wan's face, lifted it and softly kissed his forehead. "I
think it's high time we went home."
Obi-Wan briefly sucked the nearest thumb and let his eyes
narrow. "You have a plan, Master? An amazing one, perhaps?"
"Oh, yes." The voice buttered Obi-Wan's gut. "I have a plan to
end all plans."
And they were off.
Home. Ah, yes. The place to hang one's robe and stack one's
boots. To haul off one's tunic and sling one's leggings. To
scatter one's explosions willy nilly and shout about love to
the heart's content.
The first blast was three feet inside the door. The second was
rather near the sofa. The third was in the vicinity of the
bedroom door. And the fourth almost happened on the bed. And
the fifth one...
But who was keeping count?
"Master..." Kneeling astride the warm, sticky lap, quite
nicely impaled, Obi-Wan looked down into blue, blue eyes and
shifted against the crinkly hairs rasping his backside. He was
hot, he was sweaty, he was just about popped out. And he was
definitely in love. Leaning forward, he took a slow, deep
breath, rubbing his face in the soft damp beard, inhaling the
essence of intense love-making. Another breath and he needed to
move... "Master, may I have another?"
Qui-Gon's knowing fingers were deep in exploratory dialogue
with a most expressive penis and he chuckled. "Another what, my
Obi-Wan?" The other hand, no less idle, traced intricate
patterns over the sensitive flesh snugged around his own
erection. The sweet skin trembled under his fingers. "You have
only to ask." His mouth found a tasty spot and sucked, just
where jaw and ear deferred to the throat. If he could have
purred...
Somewhere in time, Obi-Wan began rocking his pelvis in a
rhythm known to lovers everywhere. "Four is a nice number,
Master." His repertoire grew to include pull away, push down.
"But five is so much better,..." Branched out to include clamp
and squeeze. "...don't you think?"
It was some moments before Qui-Gon could do more than gasp for
breath. "Oh, yes... Yes, indeed..." The slow arch of his body
spoke volumes. "And as you may guess, I have a plan."
Obi-Wan nuzzled his way from throat, to chin, to mouth. "Of
course you do, my love." Their kiss was long, hot, and sweet.
"Please..." Feeding warm breath into the nearest ear, he
tongued it lightly. "...enlighten me."
Then the world shrank to skin, scent and gut-shivering
arousal. And Qui-Gon let passion shape words from a breathless
moan. "You and I both know, Obi-Wan..." He looked deep into the
soul above him. "...there will always be a how. And there will
always be a where." His long fingers reached to cup and knead.
And he smiled. "Now, rock with me, my love."
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