Staking a Claim

by Ruth Gifford (lady_volumna@yahoo.com)

Series: Sequel to "Padawan's Price" by MrsHamill

Rating: NC-17

Categories: Q/O, POV, very mild D/s, PWP. AU

Summary: Tired of seeing his Master with anyone and evryone, Obi-Wan makes his move

Disclaimer: The Boyz belong George

Warning: This is very tame for me; terri's story implied heavier stuff than I show in this one.

Notes: I decided that I too should be doing something about the sad lack of what Emu refers to as UniversalSlut!Qui-Gon stories. Hence this story, which was also brought about by watching a scene from Queer as Folk that takes place at Babylon (yes the mandatory "Babylon scene" that occurs at least once an episode). Since my bunny involved a dance club and generally slutty behavior on the dance floor, terri authorized me to write this sequel. I hadn't actually read the porn/erotica debate when I wrote this, but I realized as I was writing that it reads rather pornographically. What can I say? It's Slut!Qui and TalkDirty!Obi.

Ambiance: Madonna--The Immaculate Collection ("you can dance/for inspiration")

For terri to return the favor, and for Master Elyana for the many QAF sessions.

Thank the gods the Naboo situation cleared itself up so quickly. Master was correct; the Trade Federation backed down the minute they learned we were sent by Chancellor Valorum himself. I also think that the firm stance of Queen Amidala made our job easier. I wish all such negotiations were so easy.

On the way back from Naboo, I casually mentioned that I thought I could use a little hand-to-hand work once we got back to the Temple. I knew Qui-Gon would go to the club eventually, but I wanted to get him (and by extension, myself) there as quickly as possible. I turned my head, but still caught the look of hungry anticipation he directed in my direction.

The session was everything I had hoped it would be and I wondered how in hell I had been so blind to Master's interest in me. Oh, he worked me hard; he certainly wasn't letting his desire for me cause him to skimp on my training. I, for my part, did my best to be as innocently provocative as possible, moving against him a little more closely than strictly necessary, making minor mistakes in my stance that required him to touch me, and in general doing everything I could to make him aware of me.

Before he could tell me, I told him that I would be out late with some friends. "As will I, Padawan," he replied.

I restrained myself from remarking that he made friends easily, but I hid a smile as I hastily made my out the door. I was dressed in civilian clothes, but they were nothing like what Master usually wore to the club. I didn't have any clothing that extreme, nor did I want to attract attention from any other than Qui-Gon.

The club was as loud as ever and artificial smoke hung over the dance floor in a swirling haze. I leaned against a railing on the upper level balcony and watched the floor, looking for him. It didn't take me long to find him, even in the crowd. It could have been our training bond, but I thought it had more to do with my new and heightened awareness and interest in him. He was dancing with two men, a Human in a spacer's jumpsuit and a Twilek whose clothing left little to the imagination. Well, I could compete with them easily.

I stripped off my shirt and draped it over the railing, not really caring that I'd never see it again. What was a shirt compared to getting my Master's--Qui-Gon's--attention? A shower of glitter fell over me as I moved onto the lower dance floor. It stuck to my chest and arms and I laughed with sheer delight. Time to end Master's slutish behavior with a little slutish behavior of my own. I moved to his side, sizing up the competition.

They didn't stand a chance.

Before he saw me, I reached out gently with the Force and freed his hair from its tie. And then, even as he reacted, I put my hand, somewhat firmly, on his cheek and slid it down his neck to his mostly bare chest. He turned to me in astonishment, and I could see the protest forming. Apparently, it was one thing to pine after me, another to actually see me in this environment, of all places. I must have looked as debauched as he felt, and I knew his lust was warring with his image of me as his oh-so-innocent Padawan.

I smiled and nudged the spacer aside with my hip. Moving close behind Qui-Gon, I lifted my braid and draped it over his shoulder as I ground my pelvis against his leather clad ass. My meaning was clear and the Twilek and the Human moved away together.

"Padawan...."

"No," I interrupted firmly. "Just Obi-Wan." I paused, letting him feel my erection as my hands grabbed his hips. "And you're Qui-Gon. My Qui-Gon."

"I...."

"Be quiet and listen to me. I am tired," another thrust of my hips, "of watching you act the slut with anyone who wants you." Another thrust while I reached around and grabbed hold of the leather straps of his chest harness. "If you must be a slut, be one with me."

He moaned, and it was just what I needed to hear from him. A deep rumble that started low and seemed to vibrate against my hands.

"Oh, yes," I whispered, tweaking a nipple hard and hearing that moan again. "I like that noise. I want to hear more of it."

"Just ... keep doing what ... you're doing...."

"You think this is all I'm going to do? Oh no, Qui, I'll fuck," another thrust of my hips and a pinch to his already tight nipple, "you right here on the dance floor if we don't go somewhere a little more private."

"Tell me ... what you want. Please, Obi-Wan."

I reached up and grabbed his hair, forcing him to bend back toward me. I bit his neck, hard enough to leave a mark and was rewarded with another of those incredible moans.

"I want to have you the way they had you." My voice was husky and I could feel him relaxing into my hands. He was beginning to surrender to our mutual desire and I felt my pulse begin to race. "I'm going to take you into the back room--not one of the private rooms--and I'm going to shove you to your knees. I've seen you, you know; I know you can use that mouth for something other than diplomacy. I want to find out just how good you are at sucking cock. You want to show me, don't you?'

"Yes, Obi-Wan. Force yes!"

"I'm going to wrap my hands in your hair and drag you down on to it, like the cocksucker you are."

He actually whimpered, and to be fair, I could hardly blame him. I was surprising--and arousing--myself. But the words were there, crude and explicit, tumbling out of me as I rubbed against him and ran my hands across his chest.

"I want you to get it nice and slick, because I'm not going to come in your mouth. At least not this time. I want to fuck you, hard and fast. Pound my cock into you and listen to you yell. You want it, don't you? Want me to just shove all of it inside you at once, all wet from your mouth."

"Oh yes ... don't worry ... I'm ready for you."

Somehow I knew what he meant.

"You are a slut, aren't you, Qui? Did you oil yourself up before you left home? Were you in your bedroom, sliding those big fingers up inside you, wishing all the time that it was me?"

"Always, Obi-Wan. It's always you. When I'm alone, when I'm being fucked or sucking cock ... it's always you I see." He paused, and I instinctively slid my hand up to his face. It was hot; he was embarrassed? "That's why I come here so often ... to be with men, not women. Oh gods, Obi-Wan you're driving me insane. Please...."

Once more I slid my hand down his chest, only this time I kept going. "And is this for me? Is it mine?"

"All of me...."

"Come on then."

I took hold of his wrist and pulled him toward the back room. Once there, I deliberately chose a spot against the wall and in good light. Private moments would come later.

"Come on, get down there and work it with your mouth."

He had my pants undone before his knees even hit the floor. I fought for control; I would hardly get what I wanted if I came the minute he touched me.

"Hard," I rasped out as his mouth moved over me. "Hard and deep."

He moaned and I felt it, a hot wet vibration against the head of my cock. I looked down and, oh stars, it was everything I'd dreamed it would be. My Master, Qui-Gon, kneeling on the floor in a room full of men having sex, with his mouth wrapped around my cock. I wanted to close my eyes and relax into it, while at the same time I wanted to watch and savor every last minute of it.

It was a good thing that I chose the latter.

"Get your hands off that! It's mine and you touch it only when I tell you to!" Would he accept that from me? I had to know how far he wanted me to go; how far I could push him before he rebelled and I was faced with my Master again.

He looked up at me and, even in the fairly dim light, I could see his eyes, dark with desire and feeling. Very deliberately, he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Oh good," I murmured. "Maybe next time I'll tie them there."

He closed his eyes and managed to look extremely vulnerable. At the same time, I could feel his throat relaxing as he took me all the way in. He was good, outstanding really, and I suppose it should have bothered me to think about how he'd honed these skills. But it didn't. If anything, it made me even more aroused, thinking of him here or in one of the private rooms, practicing this for me. Thinking of me instead of whomever he happened to be with.

Thought vanished as he massaged me with his throat, sliding back up with just the faintest hint of teeth. Being here like this, in the semi-public room, was perverse, hot, and oh-so-good!

"Oh yesss ... that's it, Qui. That's what I want."

He opened his eyes again and I caught his glance and slid my fingers into my mouth. And then, as I grabbed at his hair with one hand, I reached down with my wet fingers and began to play with my nipple.

He moaned again, leaning back into my grasp and relaxing until I was compelled to use his hair to force his head back down on my cock.

"This is what you want," I hissed. He moaned agreement and the sweet vibration caused my vaunted control to slip even further. I couldn't hold out much longer.

"Stop!" I pulled him away. "I don't want to come yet. Do something about it."

He knew what I mean; somehow I was sure he would. I sighed in an equal mixture of relief and frustration as he deftly pressed at the right pressure points. I was still hard, but I was no longer out of control.

I looked around. We had gathered a bit of an audience and, while I was gratified and flattered, I also realized that I had made my point.

"A room," I said, carefully fastening my pants.

He nodded and I couldn't help but notice that he looked relived.

And it was then, as he went and made the arrangements, that I knew things were going to be fine with us once this night was over. As always, we were in tune, comfortable with the same things. It was like fighting together or the way it felt when we'd completed a difficult kata. It was us and it was right.

"Obi-Wan?"

I blinked and smiled at him, lazily toying with my nipple. "It's going to be all right." He knew exactly what I meant, but he said nothing as he held up a keychip.

The room was simple, a bed, a wash basin and nothing else. I shrugged; it wasn't like we needed anything else. I leaned back and resumed toying with my nipples. He looked at me hungrily, but remained just inside the door. In spite of the rightness I knew we both felt, he seemed just a bit wary, not unsure of us, but of the situation.

When I realized what made him that way, I was amused. He was used to being here and wanting me; he just wasn't used to having what he wanted right in front of him. It gave me an advantage, one I would happily work for all it was worth.

"Take off your clothes," I demanded.

He closed his eyes, looking suddenly vulnerable. He was beautiful, desirable and I once more forced my pounding arousal into something more manageable. Slowly his hands moved to the leather chest harness.

"No, I don't really consider that an item of clothing; just take off the rest of it."

He quickly removed pants, socks and boots, and I hid a smile when I realized he was wearing no underwear. Of course. The harness made him look even more naked, the smooth leather emphasizing his chest and lean waist.

I beckoned him to the bed and pointed to the floor. While I briefly considered tying him up, I decide that those sorts of games could wait until later. Likewise, although I intended to control this encounter totally, I was not going to introduce pain to our already volatile first time.

Our first time. As he knelt by the bed and looked at me, I thought about that. I suppose that some, feeling the way I did, would wish that this were a true first time for both of us. I didn't. While my first time had not been a disaster, neither had it been anything to write home about. As for Qui-Gon, I was quite pleased that he came to me with extensive knowledge, both of sex itself, and, more importantly, his own needs and desires.

"Resume where you left off," I commanded and once more, he freed my cock from my pants with deft alacrity. Oh yes, I thought as his skillful mouth closed back down over me, I was very glad he knew what he was doing. I glanced down, pleased to see that he was as seriously aroused as I was. I wanted him with me for this.

I twined my hands in his hair and reluctantly pulled his head up. "Enough," I gasped. I kept tugging on his hair, guiding him up to the bed. "Hands and knees," I demanded. "Show me just how much you want it."

He did, eagerly positioning himself on his knees and elbows, legs spread widely. He was trembling, minute shivers that would have been invisible to anyone who didn't know him as well as I did. I moved off the bed to stand and look at him. So beautiful, so needy, so mine.

"You're hungry for it, aren't you?"

"Yes. Oh yes, Pad--Obi-Wan."

I laughed. "Someday I'll punish you for that lapse. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" A pause and again I wondered if I had pushed too far. But no, the pause seemed to be caused more by his inability to speak. The tremors increased. "Oh, yes," I continued, "you'd like it. I've seen it, you know. Seen you. I have a lot to punish you for. But not tonight."

I stroked his hip, my hand moving surely over the long lean curve of his flank. I've always loved that part of the Human body, a curve that existed in both men and women, made for touch, for teasing. He leaned into the caress and for a moment I felt nothing but tenderness. How had we both been so foolish? He in denying his real feelings and me in not seeing mine.

Then I became aware once more of the fine textured skin beneath my hand and the heady smell of him, musk and sweat and the oil he'd prepared himself with. My own hunger returned with a vengeance and my hand tightened on his hip. "Show me," I said my voice hoarse. "Show me how much you want me."

He responded immediately, dropping down to rest his weight on his shoulders. He reached back and held himself open, moaning a little. The sight and sound of him rocked through me and I moved to kneel on the bed behind him.

"That's right. Keep playing the slut for me. I know what you are; I know all your nasty little secrets and I want you for them. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck me, please Obi-Wan."

"How?" I asked as my hand followed the curve of his ass. "Nice and slow and gentle?"

"Hard. Rough. Please, just as you said you would."

Without any further preamble, I guided my cock into him and shoved in hard. His hands fell to the bed and in the brief second of silence I could hear the sheets tear where he gripped them. Then he cried out, a long low sound of fulfillment and need and something so deep that I felt it resonate right through me.

"Yes, that's it. Let me know how much you like it." I thrust and he moaned again and I almost lost it right there. He was incredible and all my varied experiences paled beside the sheer eroticism of this simple act. Tight and hot and something more elusive, something unique to him, to us I hoped.

"So good," he panted. "Better . . . I had no . . . idea . . . more, please Obi-Wan."

I buried myself in him, biting my lower lip and hanging on to my fading control by the barest margin. I wanted him, wanted nothing more than to have him come and to follow him over the edge and into the fire of climax. But that wasn't enough. I wanted more.

He actually whimpered when I pulled out, and one fist slammed into the mattress. "Wha?"

I fell onto the bed on my back, and grabbed his hair again. Oh yes, he would never cut his hair as long as we were lovers; it was too convenient.

"Ride me," I demanded hoarsely. "Show me how much you need me, need this" and I stroked my cock as he licked his lips. "Fuck yourself on me."

"Yes," he agreed, his voice as husky as mine. "Oh yes."

He straddled me eagerly and I moaned as I was taken into him, all that heat and slick tightness enveloping me. I yelled and grabbed his hips, thrusting up into him.

He echoed my yell a moment later, as he sank down heavily on me, taking my in as deep as I could go. My hands tightened on his flesh, my fingers digging deep enough to bruise. He yelled again, throwing back that leonine head and riding me as hard as he could.

"Yes! Yes, my Qui!" I shouted.

"Fuck me, Obi-Wan!" he called out and I had to force myself not to come then and there. That voice had been a part of my life for ten years now and to hear it above me, loud in passion and desire and sheer hunger was the most amazing thing I'd ever heard.

I reached up and twisted one of his nipples hard and he shouted again, sliding a hand down to stroke his erection. I shoved it away, grabbing his cock myself and pumping it hard, rough. Another yell, and then he was moving even faster over me, driving both of us into a place that had only one way out.

"Wait for . . . me!" I managed to gasp out.

"Yes," he moaned.

Always, Obi-Wan, I heard over our training bond.

Something opened up in me then and I almost drowned in the rush of pure feeling that washed over me.

"Yes," I replied aloud, somehow getting the word out. Always me and only me, I sent over the bond.

Something passed between us, but there was no time to analyze it, for we were both tumbling over the edge, our cries shaking the very walls, our bodies slamming together with inhuman strength.

Some say orgasm is like death; the Alderaani even call it the little death. This climax felt like living. Everything I was mingled with everything Qui-Gon was and there was no limit to what we could feel together. Somewhere, dimly, I was aware that Qui-Gon was falling into my arms, that we were both sticky with come and sweat, and that we seemed to be resting at an odd angle. None of that mattered. None of it.

It felt like hours before either of us moved.

"I meant it," he said softly. Tears shone in his eyes, and I pulled him closer--if that was possible--to me. "Always you. And only you."

I felt a tiny, but somewhat jarring, moment of worry. "But you won't change in any other way."

He chuckled through his tears. "No, love. I'll always play the slut for you. Although," and he paused, raising his head and looking around, "I think we should stick to our quarters."

"Oh?"

"The bed's sturdier," he explained.

I rose on my elbow and the slant was explained as I realized that we had broken a leg of the bed. "True, but the dance floor here is so hot."

"There is that."

I pinched his nipple again and was rewarded with another of those lovely moans.

"Well," I said, watching him closely for his reaction. "There's always the ferocrete wall in the back alley."

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Oh yes, Obi-Wan. You'll take me there?"

"Yes, my Qui-Gon. Count on it."

The End

(although if anyone--Padawan? Emu? Tem've? Elayna? Hilary? Beuller?--wants to write about Q 'n' O and a back alley wall, feel free)