by kaly (razrbkr@juno.com) and Nix
(lifefromfire@hotmail.com)
Dedication: This story was written for Holly, a wonderful
friend to both of us. We hope it makes you smile!
Authors: kaly (razrbkr@juno.com) and Krychick
(krychick@hotmail.com) -- please send all feedback to
both of us!
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Q/O.
Archive: yes to M_A and Krychick's Sanctuary.
Categories: PWP, Humour.
Disclaimer: What do you get when you mix two Jedi and lots of
honey? More fun than George lets 'em have! So, if you'd rather
we owned them instead, start up a petition! But till hell does
freeze over, George owns the boys. And we're still poor college
kids. Damn.
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to...each other! For mutual
pulling through sticky spots, mutual betaing and keeping each
other awake late enough to write . -g- We discovered that we
think remarkably alike while writing this, to the point of
finishing each other's sentences. Which was useful, and scary
to others...they're working together?! No! -g-
Feedback: Please! We're both in withdrawal and need our
feedback fix. -g-
Summary: After a disasterous cooking class, Qui-Gon gives
Obi-Wan a hand in cleaning up.
Krychick's author's note: Well, this was my first time every
collaborating on a fic with someone. It slowed production down
a little (kept getting sidetracked by chatting! -g-) but helped
me to pull through the awkward bits. -smile- I had fun, and
learned some about my own writing! And together, I think we've
set a record for header length. Is anyone still with me at this
point? -bg-
kaly's author's note: well, i've cowritten before - so this
wasn't as much a learning experience for me. however, it was a
definite adventure in insomnia and chatting g who knew
when i thought up this idea and asked kry about it we'd manage
to turn it into a week-long adventure. still reading? thought
not :-) hope you get a kick out of this holly, we've now
managed to create a dangerous talent of evil plotting, my
thinks.
As the fine dust of flour started to settle around the two, now
completely white padawans, Bant shook her head slowly. "Kenobi,
you really are hopeless in a kitchen."
Obi-Wan brushed the Trillian flour from his face. "It wasn't my
idea to be here," he replied, almost managing a pout.
Bant hid a smile as Obi-Wan tried to shake the flour from his
hair. "This is an elective class, Obi. You didn't have to take
it." She heard Obi-Wan mutter under his breath, but couldn't
make out the comment. "What was that?" she asked, not bothering
to hide her smile.
"Qui-Gon's making me. Something about me trying to poison him."
At that Bant did laugh, and was quickly seized by a sneezing
fit. Once she could talk, she managed, "You're what?"
"You heard me," Obi-Wan replied, not managing to hide his own
grin. "It's hard to believe, but I'm not the best in the
kitchen."
"Really," Bant deadpanned. She glanced around at the mess that
was once their cooking area. "Never would have guessed that,
Kenobi. I just want to know one thing."
Obi-Wan looked at his friend suspiciously, not trusting the
faint smile on her features. "What?" he asked hesitantly.
"How did I ever end up with you for a lab partner?"
"Padawans Kenobi, Bant," the knight in charge of the cooking
class said, interrupting them. "I see you've managed with your
usual flare."
The padawans saw the hint of humor in the teacher's eyes, but
succeeded in acting contrite. "Yes, Knight Isri."
The knight looked around the area, and said, "How about you
attempt to make Soryzan honey cakes?" Obi-Wan's eyes grew large
at the question, and Bant hid her laugh behind a sneeze. "I
trust this won't be a problem?" the knight asked, managing a
straight face.
"No, sir," the two friends said.
A slight smile curved the ends of the knight's mouth. "Good. I
look forward to seeing the results."
"I can do this," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath after Isri
moved out of hearing range.
Bant shook her head, "Or we'll die trying, right?"
Obi-Wan groaned. "Don't say that. The worst things always
happen when you say that."
Bant merely smiled. "As long as it's happening to you this
time, and not me."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "It always happens to me, doesn't it?"
"True," she said with a laugh. "Now, let's get to work or we'll
be here all night."
Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan said, "Okay, now or never."
The mixing of the dry ingredients for the honey cakes went
remarkably well. Unfortunately, the next step was to add the
honey. Obi-Wan opened a cupboard in their kitchen area. "Uh
oh," he said.
"What now?" Bant asked, rolling her eyes a little.
"We're out of honey," Obi-Wan explained, and held up the empty
jar to illustrate.
"I'll go get it," Bant said, reaching for the container.
"No, no, I can do it," Obi-Wan insisted. His pride had been
injured by the flour incident. Bant looked skeptical, but waved
him towards the main supply area. Squaring his shoulders, Obi
Wan marched up to the giant tub of honey and reached for the
tiny tap at the bottom. Under Bant's nervous gaze, he firmly
twisted the valve open. Too firmly.
The entire tap broke off the plastic tub and honey began
rushing out faster than one would have thought possible for
such a viscous fluid. Obi-Wan desperately shoved his jar under
the stream, but it overflowed within seconds.
Panicked now, Obi-Wan looked around for a larger container.
Spotting a bucket, the padawan briefly abandoned the honey to
fetch it. Returning, he dove in an attempt to shove the bucket
under the tap, which was now spilling honey onto the floor.
Obi-Wan's lunge was cut short as one foot came down on honey
instead of tile, and his feet flew out from under him. He lay
for a moment, stunned, as the last of the honey dripped onto
him.
Hearing a loud noise, Bant came running from where she had been
working on their project. Rounding the corner she was brought
up short by the sight of Obi-Wan sprawled on his stomach in the
middle of a giant pool of honey. Her mouth fell open and she
put her hand over it, struck speechless for a moment.
Before Obi-Wan had a chance to say a word, Bant started
giggling. She was soon doubled over with tears running down her
cheeks. Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face, but realized his
mistake as honey was soon smudged there as well.
Managing to sit up on his knees, Obi-Wan shook his head.
"You're not being much help here, Bant."
Hearing him speak, she looked up, only to be overwhelmed by
another round of laughter. "Sorry," she managed to gasp out.
"It's just . . ."
Obi-Wan looked down at the front of his tunics. "How am I going
to explain this?"
Bant stood up straight, and walked over to Obi-Wan. Holding out
a hand, she tried to help him to his feet, only to be pulled
down into the ooze. A yell was half torn from her throat at the
sudden movement, but was drowned out by Obi-Wan's laughter as
Bant was soon coated in the honey as well. "This time it's not
just me," he said with a grin.
"It rarely is," Bant replied with a laugh.
"So . . . what do we do now?" Obi-Wan asked, his face suddenly
a mask of innocence.
Bant shook her head and managed to stand back up. "First we
have to get this mess cleaned up before Knight Isri comes in
here."
"What mess, Padawan Bant?" Isri's voice echoed in from the hall
a moment before the tall knight walked into the room. Bant
quickly turned around just as the knight walked into the room.
Obi-Wan managed to stand up, however unsteadily as his feet
kept slipping in the honey. "I trust there is an explanation
for this?" the knight asked, wide-eyed.
Bant glanced at Obi-Wan, seeking a reply, before again facing
the knight. "The handle broke open," Obi-Wan explained.
Isri hid the ghost of a grin. "And you decided to go swimming?"
"Not exactly . . ." Obi-Wan replied. "Everything just seemed to
snowball."
The knight nodded. "That may be, but you will be expected to
clean up the mess."
"Yes, sir," the padawans said.
Bant and Obi-Wan quickly realized that the honey would ruin
regular mops, and resigned themselves to scraping it off the
floor. After the majority of the sticky substance had been
transferred to a bucket, the two padawans got down on their
knees with damp rags and proceeded to scrub the tile floor.
As his body heated up, the honey that had begun to stiffen
Obi-Wan's clothing grew even stickier. Muttering darkly, he
shrugged and stripped off his tunics. Bant's eyes widened in
surprise and appreciation before she glanced around for Knight
Isri. Fortunately, he had returned to the class around the
corner.
Sparing another glance over at Obi-Wan, Bant grinned. "So,
Kenobi, free show?"
Obi-Wan's head shot up to meet Bant's gaze. "Force, no. I
expect to be paid," he grinned.
Bant laughed. "Will whistling and cheers do?"
"Now, really Bant, is that your best offer?" Obi-Wan asked with
a grin as he stood. "I was thinking something more along the
lines of a favor . . ."
"Huh uh. No way, Kenobi." Bant stood, backing away from the
other padawan. "The last time you said that I was doing extra
meditations for two weeks."
"It's a really little favor," he wheedled.
"Yeah, and last time it was a really little kitten. No."
"Yes, but this time it would be a type of you wash my back, I
wash yours thing," Obi-Wan pressed, trying not to laugh. "All
you have to do is help me get cleaned up before I have to see
my master."
Obi-Wan cringed at the spark he saw suddenly light up Bant's
eyes. "You mean you don't want Qui-Gon to help you?" she asked
innocently.
"Not with this! It's going to be hard enough to explain what
happened without . . . complicating the issue."
Bant shook her head. "Complicating the issue?"
Obi-Wan fought back a blush, but he must not have been entirely
successful, because Bant smiled knowingly. "Oh, that
kind of complication." Obi-Wan was saved from having to comment
further by Knight Isri's arrival.
"All right, padawans, it looks like you're about done here. Go
to your rooms and clean up. I've sent reports to your Masters,
who will deal with you appropriately."
Obi-Wan cast a desperate glance at Bant. His friend rolled her
eyes and nodded slightly to indicate she'd help him clean up.
Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Obi-Wan climbed to his feet,
slipped his robe on and snatched up the tunics he had shed.
The two padawans nodded briefly to the knight before hurrying
from the room.
Their gazes still lowered, the friends hurried from the room
and out into an adjoining hallway. Obi-Wan turned the corner
and found himself running into a wall of tunics. In a jumble of
arms and legs, his momentum carried them down onto the floor.
It was only after trying to extract himself from the prone
position that Obi-Wan let himself look at the face of the
person he'd knocked down. Blood rushed to his face at seeing
Qui-Gon's curious expression, and he noted Bant's stifled
laughter in the background.
"You're on your own now, Kenobi," she managed, and took off in
the direction of her quarters.
Obi-Wan hurriedly stood, and held out a hand to help Qui-Gon to
his feet. The master ignored the offered hand and stood before
looking down at his now-honey-coated clothes.
"Would you care to explain, Padawan?" he asked, fighting the
smile that sought break through.
"This cooking class is educating me on the many ways food can
become a weapon. Now I have an alternative to poisoning you,"
Obi-Wan said, laughter and mortification coloring his voice.
Qui-Gon smiled briefly before his expression turned serious.
Obi-Wan's nervousness began to win out over his amusement.
"Come, Obi-Wan, let us return to our quarters and clean up this
. . ." Qui-Gon paused to look again at his clothes. ". . .
mess."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, ducking his gaze. He could feel
his ears burning red as Qui-Gon looked at him for a moment more
before turning and walking back down the corridor.
Obi-Wan fell into step behind Qui-Gon and found himself
fighting the urge to reach out to his master and see what the
older man was thinking. Qui-Gon glanced over his shoulder at
the agitated padawan, and again fought a slight smile. 'He does
make life interesting,' he thought to himself.
Unaware of his master's amusement, Obi-Wan continued to follow,
left to wonder what Qui-Gon might have in store for him. By the
time they reached their quarters, Obi-Wan's stomach was in
knots.
Qui-Gon found the report from Knight Isri waiting for him and
sat down to read it, leaving his padawan to squirm. Obi-Wan
watched from just inside the room as Qui-Gon sat and read.
Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Obi-Wan fought the urge
to fidget.
Once Qui-Gon finished reading the report, he turned off the
datamonitor and turned to face his apprentice. "So, Obi-Wan.
What do you have to say for yourself?"
Again Obi-Wan fought the urge to shift his feet. "It was an
accident, Master."
"An accident . . ." Qui-Gon steepled his fingers under his
chin. "Yes, you do seem to have many of those where a kitchen
is concerned."
"Master . . ." Obi-Wan tried to explain, but was silenced when
Qui-Gon held up a hand.
"However, you will never best this problem without facing it
head on," Qui-Gon said, standing. "You will continue to attend
the class. As for this mess," he began, indicating both of
their outfits.
Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master. I'll clean them right away."
Obi-Wan had just turned to walk into his bedroom when he
noticed a smile form on his master's face. He turned in time to
hear Qui-Gon laugh softly. "You do know the secret of
Alderaanean honey, don't you, Obi-Wan?"
Cringing, Obi-Wan shook his head. He knew better than to trust
the glint in Qui-Gon's dark eyes. "No, Master."
Qui-Gon nodded. "I thought as much."
Obi-Wan realized that the other Jedi was trying to bait him.
"What is the secret of Alderaanean honey, Master?"
"It doesn't dissolve in water, no matter how hot the water is,"
Qui-Gon revealed.
"So how do we get it off?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously.
"Well, saliva seems to work the best."
Obi-Wan blinked slowly, trying to decide if he should trust
Qui-Gon or not. "Is that so, Master?" Obi-Wan asked. He dropped
the soiled tunics, and walked toward the other man.
Qui-Gon managed a stiff nod, "That it is, my padawan."
Moving to stand directly in front of the Jedi master, Obi- Wan
tilted his head to look into Qui-Gon's eyes. "And how might we
make use of the saliva?" he asked, his voice dropping to a
rough whisper.
Qui-Gon struggled to remain calm in the face of his padawan's
heated gaze. "Direct application seems to be most effective,"
he said, somehow managing to keep his voice level.
Obi-Wan licked his lips, and smiled.
Reaching out, the younger man slowly peeled off the layers of
Qui-Gon's tunics. They were sticky, but not as badly saturated
as Obi-Wan's own clothing, much of which lay abandoned on the
floor. Obi-Wan ran his hands - clean, since he'd had to wash
them before cleaning up the original mess - over Qui-Gon's bare
chest.
He was disappointed to find that his master's tunics had
entirely shielded his torso from the honey. The first sticky
spot he found was at the base of Qui-Gon's neck. He lowered his
head and licked the spot once, the sweetness concealing
Qui-Gon's own taste. Obi-Wan smiled a little and returned his
mouth to the spot, his tongue laving the skin until the older
man's flavor was all that he could taste.
Qui-Gon struggled to remain calm as his padawan sucked on his
skin, hands clenched at his sides to keep him from seizing
Obi-Wan and pulling him closer. Obi- Wan could feel the tension
in the body under his lips and grinned a little before moving
on to another honeyed patch, this time on Qui-Gon's chin.
"I think," Qui-Gon said, his voice rough with arousal, "that
you need a lot more cleaning up than I do. Perhaps I should get
to work."
Putting words into actions, he divested Obi-Wan of his robe,
leaving the younger man dressed only in leggings and boots.
Obi-Wan, well aware that more of him was honey-coated than not,
shivered with anticipation. Qui-Gon allowed his lips to curve a
bit and moved to lap at the honey on the younger man's chest,
beginning with a slow swipe along his sternum. Obi-Wan bit back
a gasp at the touch of his master's tongue, but he couldn't
stop himself from arching into the caress.
Qui-Gon's smile widened, but he did not cease the tongue bath.
Slowly he worked his way across Obi-Wan's chest and towards one
of his nipples. A whimper was torn from Obi-Wan's lips as the
tight peak was finally engulfed in hot wetness. Qui-Gon could
feel the younger man's legs trembling and pressed his palms
against Obi- Wan's back to support him.
His hands still supporting Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon lifted his mouth
from the young man's chest. Raising his gaze, he watched
Obi-Wan's flushed face for a moment before capturing the
padawan's lower lip between his own.
Breaking away from the kiss for a moment, a half-smile formed
on Obi-Wan's features. "Too sweet for you?" he asked with a
light laugh.
Qui-Gon shook his head, smiling as he pressed a kiss to
Obi-Wan's lips before replying, "No, but we do have all night
to account for, don't we?"
Laughing, Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around Qui-Gon's neck.
"Promise?" he whispered, the brush of air caressing Qui-Gon's
parted lips.
Qui-Gon growled low in his throat, and found himself staring
into heated blue-green eyes. "Only if you think you're up to
it," the Jedi baited. However, Obi-Wan was unable to reply as
Qui-Gon again claimed his mouth.
The younger man broke away, grinned a little and ground his
groin against Qui-Gon's thigh. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm up to
it," he said huskily.
Qui-Gon chuckled and allowed Obi-Wan to draw him into the
bedroom.
The padawan's legs bumped up against the bed and Qui- Gon drew
him close and kissed him deeply. Breaking the contact of their
lips, he murmured, "I've found another sticky spot," and turned
Obi-Wan so that he could lap at a patch of honey on the younger
man's shoulder blade. Obi-Wan drew in a quick breath at the
moist contact on his back and leaned into the touch.
Qui-Gon put a hand about his waist, his fingers splayed on his
lover's stomach. Obi-Wan covered the hand with his own, weaving
their fingers together. Obi-Wan turned his head to the side,
and Qui-Gon abandoned Obi-Wan's back to press a kiss to the
padawan's open lips. Obi-Wan could taste the honey on Qui-Gon's
tongue as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his free hand in
Qui-Gon's hair.
Qui-Gon pressed his chest against Obi-Wan's back and nibbled
gently at the younger man's earlobe. Obi-Wan gasped. "That's .
. . that part's not sticky," he managed.
"Are you objecting?" Qui-Gon asked with a light laugh, nipping
the lobe.
"No," Obi-Wan murmured, and turned in Qui-Gon's embrace to kiss
his Master.
Reluctantly leaving Qui-Gon's lips, Obi-Wan slid onto the bed
and pulled the older man after him. Qui-Gon continued the
tongue bath he'd begun earlier, moving quickly down his
padawan's torso to concentrate on his thus far neglected lower
body.
He paused briefly when his lips reached Obi-Wan's stomach. The
muscles quivered with tension and quick, panting breaths.
Qui-Gon traced light patterns across the muscles with the tip
of his tongue, delighting in the twitches the teasing touch
caused.
Honey had pooled in Obi-Wan's navel, an oasis of sweetness
surrounded by flesh made salty with sweat. Dipping his tongue
into the depression, Qui-Gon noted Obi-Wan's strangled moan and
spent a moment more savoring the honey.
Obi-Wan arched as Qui-Gon continued to lave his navel. Grasping
the material of Obi-Wan's pants, Qui-Gon tugged them over the
padawan's hips. Qui-Gon smiled when Obi-Wan's erection sprang
free of the restrictive material, drawing a sharp gasp from the
younger man. He moved on and, nibbling at the firm muscle of
Obi- Wan's thighs, couldn't resist marking his padawan.
As he maneuvered farther down Obi-Wan's legs, he kissed the
muscled legs as he continued to pull the pants down. Reaching
Obi-Wan's knees, he mouthed them gently and left a final kiss
on each before moving on.
Qui-Gon struggled with the heavy leather boots that Obi- Wan
was still wearing, cursing silently before finally managing to
unfasten and toss them to the floor. An insistent hand brushed
his cheek before tangling in his hair, drawing him up to
address more . . . pressing matters.
Qui-Gon looked up, capturing Obi-Wan's smoldering gaze with his
own. Not breaking eye contact, he lowered his mouth, slowly
engulfing Obi-Wan.
Gripping the younger man's hips tightly, Qui-Gon held him
still. Instead, he moved. Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the
sensations Qui-Gon was creating in him. A low moan tore from
his throat as he strained against the pressure of his master's
hands. Qui-Gon growled, the sensation causing Obi-Wan to thrust
upward, breaking free of the hands which held him, and plunge
deeper into Qui-Gon's mouth.
Qui-Gon smiled, allowing Obi-Wan's cock to slip from between
his lips. Lightly he sucked on the heated skin, before
swallowing the shaft again. Obi-Wan's hands laced through
Qui-Gon's hair. When the other man gently touched the sensitive
skin with his teeth, the padawan pressed his head back against
the mattress, arching into the touch.
Obi-Wan was lost in the ecstasy of Qui-Gon's touch, the hot,
wet, caresses driving him beyond thought. His hands not leaving
his master, his hips arched up one final time. Obi-Wan came in
long pulses, shuddering with release and crying out his love.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan's body was stretched taut and
finally relaxed, falling onto the bed bonelessly. With a smile,
Qui-Gon placed a kiss to the stretch of skin between navel and
groin before moving up to capture Obi-Wan's mouth with his own.
When the kiss ended, Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan's sated gaze. He
gently tugged on the padawan braid that had stuck to Obi-Wan's
shoulder. "Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you like
this?" he asked lightly.
Obi-Wan stretched an arm over his head, a pleased smile on his
face. "You have," he murmured, "and I like seeing you the same
way just as much." Obi-Wan rolled onto his side and reached out
to finger the waistband of Qui- Gon's leggings.
He caressed Qui-Gon's chest, enjoying the feel of the muscles
rippling beneath his touch. He smiled when Qui-Gon sucked his
own lower lip into his mouth, and drew his fingertips down to
tease one of Qui-Gon's hardening nipples. The Jedi master
managed to stay silent until that same nipple was caught in the
searing heat of Obi-Wan's mouth, when the younger man leaned
forward and sucked the skin softly.
Qui-Gon wrapped a hand in Obi-Wan's short hair, leaning into
the contact as his lover had done mere moments earlier.
Obi-Wan's hand, however, didn't still. Instead, he continued to
skim the pads of his fingers over quivering flesh, before
dipping into Qui-Gon's pants and stroking his ass. Qui-Gon
growled softly, and tugged on Obi-Wan's hair until their mouths
were once again pressed together.
Obi-Wan flicked his tongue against the corners of Qui- Gon's
mouth, the older man's lips parting and his own tongue darting
out and into Obi-Wan's mouth. Qui-Gon gasped into the deepening
kiss when Obi-Wan's hand moved from his ass to skim across his
stomach and finally below to his almost painfully hard cock.
Obi-Wan tenderly but firmly closed his fingers about Qui-Gon's
shaft, bringing his lover to orgasm with a few short strokes.
He watched with wonder undiminished by the months together as
Qui-Gon surrendered to the pleasure, clutching Obi-Wan's neck
and hip, and gasping heartfelt endearments.
As Obi-Wan snuggled in close to Qui-Gon, the Jedi master
tightened his arms around his padawan and laughed softly.
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon in confusion. "What?"
Qui-Gon's laughter ended, but his smile didn't fade. "I was
just thinking that you're still half coated in honey." Qui-Gon
spared a glance down at both of their chests before adding,
"And now I appear to be as well."
Obi-Wan smiled sensuously at Qui-Gon. "The night is young,
Master," he replied, almost purring.
Groaning low in his throat, Qui-Gon nodded. "So it is, my
Padawan. So it is."
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