Summer

by Rushlight (n_sanity75@hotmail.com)

Author's Webpage: http://www.slashcity.org/~rushlight/

Fandom: TPM

Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan

Rating: R

Category: PWP, romance

Series: Seasons of the Heart #2

Summary: Obi-Wan practices living in the moment.

Author's Notes: This is the second story in what I'm expecting will be a series of four. Actually, it's not so much a series as a collection of similar-themed PWP's, each one symbolizing a different season of the year.

Feedback: Yes, please! Any comments, encouragement, critique, etc. will be endlessly appreciated. :)

There's something honest about the sunlight on this world that I can't precisely describe. The heat is cleansing, heavy upon my skin, and it hugs the contours of my body with the intimacy of a lover, tracing its humid fingers across my spine. The yellow sand I lie in is warmed by the sun, and it cradles me, shaping to the curves of my chest and thighs, the undersides of my bent arms where they form a pillow for my head. Overhead, the sky is an unbroken canvas of cerulean blue, almost too bright to look upon.

Content, lulled by the warmth around me, I cannot take my eyes off of my master.

His body cuts cleanly through the white-tinged waves, a lean, lithe shape that flickers like a fever dream in the sunlight. His hair fans out behind him as he swims, a swirl of dampened dark against the surface of the water that billows around him in an agitated cloud when he dives. My eyes caress him with subtle pleasure, enjoying the brief glimpse of pale buttocks and long thighs before he disappears from view beneath the water.

I close my eyes, relaxing into the warmth that swells around me. The Living Force is strong in this place, rising like a heat wave from the crescent seclusion of the beach around us, from the clear blood-warmth of the ocean that pounds unendingly against its shore. Sunlight paints the backs of my eyelids red, and I tip my face up into it, holding the image of my master close against my heart.

And perhaps it's the boneless comfort I feel, melting by degrees into the heated sand, or perhaps it's the rare moment of leisure time we've been given to enjoy here, that makes me so aware of Qui-Gon's presence. I can feel him out there, singing like a single clear note in the overriding symphony of the Force. As always, I feel a little awed by him; by his power, by his dignity, by his gentle heart. Strong and beautiful, he calls to me.

When I open my eyes again, I find him treading water some distance out from the shoreline. Although the distance is too great for me to see the details of his face, I know he's watching me. I feel a slow shiver, and the heat feels suddenly too heavy, the sand I lie in too constricting. I want to feel the caress of the ocean waves around my naked body, and as soon as the thought crosses my mind I'm moving, shedding sand like a second skin as I make my way to the water's edge.

The sand that coats the bottom of the ocean here is soft against my feet, and the water is so warm I almost can't even feel it as I lower myself into its embrace. Turning my back on the solidity of the land I swim, immersing myself in the smell of salt and sun and open air. The Force is joyous here, and I revel in it, imagining I can hear the echo of Qui-Gon's voice in the sound of the surf around me.

Exist in the moment.

Feel, don't think.

Be.

Obeying the advice of my memories, I deliberately blank my mind and give myself up to the buffeting grasp of the ocean. There's a pleasant strain in my muscles as I pull myself forward through the water, a repetitive motion that I find intensely soothing. The water feels like warm silk wrapped around me from head to toe, and the pure decadence of the image makes me want to laugh aloud. I chuckle as I pull back to blink the salt water out of my eyes, kicking hard into the current to keep my head above the gentle roll of the waves.

Then another kind of heat presses up behind me, wet skin forming itself to the contours of my back. My breath catches, and I turn, glancing up into eyes that look as if they're reflecting the color of the sky.

"Enjoying yourself?" Qui-Gon says, reaching out to tug on the water-heavy length of my braid. His eyes are laughing.

I can't help but grin at him, as the pure joy I feel rises like a tide. Pleasure turns to mischief within me, and instead of answering, I sweep a curtain of water at him with one arm, laughing at the surprised look on his face as he ducks away. Darting backwards quickly, I dare him with my body to follow.

I catch only the briefest glimpse of answering challenge in his eyes before he comes after me, and the chase is on. He has more endurance than I do in the water, but I'm the faster swimmer, and I know I can elude him for quite some time if I have a mind to. But this is a contest I want to lose, so I let him draw close, long fingers closing around my ankle with a triumphant shout, and I laugh as he pulls me back into his embrace. And then I am aware of nothing but the sea and the air and the feel of his arms around me, long limbs twining around my own as he wrestles my body into submission.

Water closes over my head, dimming the brilliance of the sky to a diffused backdrop of golden light as the world mutes into pale echoes around us. Qui-Gon is strong, so very strong, and never am I more aware of it than when we have these rare moments of play together. Even in battle he is restrained, wary, but here with me now he holds nothing back. I revel in the feel of him, in the presence of him, as his signature in the Force sings around me, filling me with the joy of home.

My head breaks the surface of the water, nearly blinding me with the sudden profusion of light. I suck in air in deep, grateful gasps that sound half-choked with laughter, but he only holds me closer, as if fearing to let me go. His leg hooks around behind my knee, tugging me close, and I know the chase is won.

He must feel the surrender in me, because his touch turns suddenly tender, his hands light as they skate across the surface of my skin. Our antics have brought us closer to the shoreline, and I feel the sole of one foot brush across the fine-grained sand beneath us as I flail to keep myself upright in the waves.

"Imp," he says fondly, tracing the line of my braid down my chest with graceful fingers, lingering where the end of it curls beside my nipple. He's grinning at me, his eyes radiant in the sunlight, and how long has it been since I've seen him as happy as this?

My skin soaks up the heat of his touch, and I shiver, despite the warmth of the air and water around me. He's pressed against me from chest to groin, and I can feel his arousal now, hot as a brand where it cradles against my thigh.

"Your imp," I whisper, feeling suddenly as if the entire galaxy has narrowed to the intense blue-gas flame of the desire I see in his eyes.

It's pure bliss when he kisses me, hot and needful, and I wrap my legs around his waist, arching against the decadent pleasure of feeling his arousal press against my own. I let him hold me, feeling weightless, unchained by gravity, buoyed by the love I feel for him. Because he is more than just my master, more than just a mentor on this life path I've chosen. He is friend and lover and heart's mate and more, as much a part of me as the blood that pounds through my veins and the heart that beats inside my chest.

The callused slide of his hands on my skin fills a need in me more precious than air. He tastes salty like the ocean, his lips hot against my face as his body yields to the demands of my hands. The sound of the surf is like thunder around us, pierced by the harsh gasping of our mingled breaths. His feet are settled beneath us on the ocean floor, anchoring us against the greedy pull of the waves, and I rely entirely on his strength as I surge against him, chasing after the promise of pleasure that dances around us both.

And now there is only the wind and the sea and the unending arc of the sky above us, salt-sweet and heavy with the weight of the sun. I grind my hips against him, gasping softly into his mouth as his large hands slide down my spine to cup around my ass, urging me to move faster, harder, to give him more. I want to give him everything, to take everything he has to give, and my entire body is shaking now, wanting it, needing him with an urgency that leaves me breathless.

My orgasm pulls a harsh cry from my throat, and I cling to him, relishing the solidity of him as the tremors move through me, shaking me down to the core. Force around us, it feels good, and I laugh with the sheer joy of it as his fingers tighten around my hips, driving me into an even faster rhythm, drawing out the pleasure of my release until it's nearly unbearable.

And then he comes, burying his face in the curve of my shoulder with a drawn-out moan that seems to vibrate through every inch of me. I tighten my arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and shudder anew at the feel of his teeth pressing into my skin.

"Obi-Wan," he whispers, dragging the side of his face against my own. There will be marks there from his beard later, and the thought pleases me, making me smile.

"Qui-Gon," I reply, sighing as my heartbeat gentles from sex's wild rhythm. I drag my fingers through the wet fall of his hair, unable to pull my hands away. He feels so good against me, especially now, in the aftermath of our passion.

His lips flutter whisper-soft against my collarbone before he settles his head onto my shoulder, holding me close. It feels as if he never intends to let go, and that suits me just fine.

Basking in the heat of the sun, I relax into the arms that hold me and allow myself to be.

The End
10/4/02