Temple Heat

by Merry Amelie

Title: Temple Heat
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: First Time, Qui/Obi, Romance
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's friendship is heating up.

My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula

"It's as cold as Hoth in here."

Qui-Gon's grumbling preceded him into the common room. He was covered from head to toe, his robe over tunics and leggings, thick socks drooping down his calves -- none of which would be unusual, except that it was the middle of the night.

"Colder." Obi-Wan managed a sardonic grin. The Knight was sitting, make that shivering, on the couch, wearing layers of his own -- every tunic not in the laundry, not to mention the three drawstrings Qui-Gon counted around his waist, which he saw through a providential gap in one of his own old cloaks.

"I've tried to reset the controls, but the system's down." Obi-Wan's voice carried the plaintive tones of the thwarted tech-head.

Qui-Gon smiled in invitation. "Don't suppose you'd care to bunk with me?" He winced; could Obi-Wan hear the forced casualness in his tone?

Knowing hesitation would erase the smile from Qui-Gon's face, Obi-Wan answered quickly. "Sure. Just like our last mission." As a working team, they'd shared everything from berths to bedrolls in the field. But his Master's bedroom was unexplored territory. His hands under the robe were as sweaty now as they'd been when he'd danced with Qui-Gon at Bail's reception celebrating the signing of the Maberan Accord last month.

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon into the Master bedroom, looking everywhere but at the bed. He stopped in a neutral zone, by the desk.

Qui-Gon wasn't looking at the bed, either. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Obi-Wan when he said, "Be back in a moment," and escaped into the 'fresher.

As soon as Qui-Gon left the room, Obi-Wan gazed at the bed speculatively, not knowing which side to take. Which one did Qui-Gon sleep on? The plumped pillows and crisp sheets offered no clue.

Obi-Wan had been dreaming of this day for years -- actually sleeping at home with the man he'd loved forever. But somehow his fantasies had never played out like this. When Qui-Gon had asked him to his bed in his imagination, it had been to make love, not to share warmth.

Qui-Gon was staring at a cracked 'fresher tile with undue fascination, overcome by the prospect of having Obi-Wan lying beside him in just a few minutes. How could he have been so forward? He'd just invited the man he loved into his bed without telling him how he really felt.

Both of them had no idea what to do next.

Obi-Wan stopped miscounting the checks on the blue comforter when Qui-Gon finally emerged from the 'fresher. Grinning nervously, he said, "Where do you want me?", then blushed to match his hair when he realized how that sounded.

Seasoned diplomat that Master Jinn was, he merely turned a flattering shade of rumpleberry. He wiggled his hand vaguely to the right. He said, "There will be fine, Obi-Wan," only after parsing the sentence for hidden double entendres.

Never more thankful for all his Jedi layers, Obi-Wan got in on the right side of the bed. He resisted the temptation to inch towards the edge, conscious of Qui-Gon's gaze upon him.

Qui-Gon waved the lights off and the glowlight on before sliding between the sheets. Both of them instinctively turned on their sides to face each other. How different his bed seemed with Obi-Wan just a touch away.

"We won't get much warmer like this." Qui-Gon's crinkles came out to play. He hoped humor would ease the awkwardness of the situation. He opened his arms in invitation, relieved when Obi-Wan rolled into them after a deep breath.

Even through all the layers, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan shaking. But what was the cause: cold, tension, or perhaps desire? He carefully wrapped his arms around the innocent circle of Obi-Wan's waist, delighted when Obi-Wan pressed into him.

"First time I've felt warm all night," Obi-Wan sighed into Qui-Gon's tunics. Relaxing into the blissful heat, he dared to slip his arms between Qui-Gon's parted robe, and wrap them around his back.

Qui-Gon rumbled in satisfaction. "Me, too."

Obi-Wan grinned into Qui-Gon's beard. His former Master seemed perfectly content to be in his arms. He looked into Qui-Gon's eyes, straining to see his expression in the dim light. When he saw nothing but happiness, he decided to speak his heart. "First time I've felt this warm in my life."

Obi-Wan sensed the deep joy glowing within the man he held so tenderly. Yes, he'd finally found the right words.

Qui-Gon brushed Obi-Wan's cheek with his thumb. "I feel it as well, Obi-Wan." His lips soon replaced his finger. "Is this all right?" He got his answer when Obi-Wan pressed his cheek into the kiss.

"Oh, yes. I've waited forever for your kiss, Qui." So saying, he turned his head slightly, letting those soft lips meet his own for the first time. "Ahhh."

Qui-Gon kissed him. The warmth increased exponentially, but he damped his own heat down, and he could feel Obi-Wan doing the same. He focused on the sweetness of the moment, the fruition of years of patient hoping, with no expectation of his craving ever being fulfilled.

His lips the warmest part of his body, Obi-Wan licked them in wonder, tasting himself and Qui-Gon. Already, he knew that the blend of their flavors aroused him more than any aphrodisiac. But he followed Qui-Gon's lead, and concentrated on his love for the man, not the desire flaring through him, when he kissed Qui-Gon again.

Qui-Gon forgot about the cold, forgot about the time, forgot about their mission the next morning. He had never lived more fully in the moment. And he brought Obi-Wan with him, a lesson in the Living Force he could not have taught in any other way.

They tasted every kiss they'd denied themselves for the past seven years, unable to regret the wait in their rush of joy.

Jedi Master that he was, Qui-Gon could not have imagined the effect that this man's kisses would have on him. Warmth had soared to heat. He was hard as duranium, as was his young lover. He wanted to get to bare skin so badly that he didn't care about the bitter chill icing every inch of flesh exposed.

Hands trembling with cold and excitement peeled back tunics, patience finally starting to erode. Chest to naked chest, they felt warmer than they ever had, even in the deserts of Tatooine. All that skin, decorously hidden under coarsecloth, was finally touching.

Impossibly, Qui-Gon felt a drop of perspiration trickle down the center line of his chest, Obi-Wan catching it on his eager tongue. He swooped in for a kiss, relishing the mix of sweat and saliva. "My Obi-Wan." He could feel the young man reining in his desire to drive into him, and was humbled by the love dancing in his eyes.

No more holding back. Growling as he tried to open too many drawstrings with too little patience, Qui-Gon finally dragged Obi-Wan's leggings down by force, his lover's helpful squirming making him even harder. And Obi-Wan also, judging by the enormous shaft that leapt into Qui-Gon's hand. Even his lightsaber had never felt so right against his palm.

"Qui, please!" Obi-Wan kissed him while shoving himself desperately into that huge hand.

Hovering over him on an elbow, Qui-Gon sped up his strokes, knowing that Obi-Wan would come before he'd had his fill. When he brushed his left testicle on a downstroke, Obi-Wan sucked in a frantic gulp of air. Qui-Gon pushed his thumb against the head, which pushed back satisfyingly. Obi-Wan cried out hoarsely as gushes of hot cream splashed both of them, wetting Qui-Gon's leggings and Obi-Wan's bare stomach and thighs.

Qui-Gon licked his hand, savoring his first taste of Obi-Wan. He drank him in with his eyes as well as his tongue. Creamy skin melting into the sheets, drowsy satisfaction in his eyes, with a hint of mischief yet to come. He was on the move again by the time Qui-Gon had licked off the last of his come.

"C'mere." Obi-Wan knelt, pulling Qui-Gon by the drawstrings to get at his prize. Even through layers of fabric, he could see the spreading wetness at Qui-Gon's groin. He made short work of the knot, aching for the feel of Qui-Gon in his hand, even sleepy from his own climax.

When Obi-Wan's hand wrapped around him, Qui-Gon couldn't quite believe it. He'd imagined it so often, never thinking it would really happen, and now it actually had. Calluses rubbed him deliciously, so like his, but the strong fingers added their own distinct grip and pressure. And that pressure was building.

Obi-Wan loved the way Qui-Gon was panting into his mouth as he stroked the eager length nudging his palm. The sounds Qui-Gon was making as he plowed into his hand caused a stir in his own shaft, soon as it was after his release.

Qui-Gon groaned out his pleasure, the coordination needed to kiss Obi-Wan long gone. He felt his lover's breath hot on his cheek, the twist of his fingers, and he was coming hard over both their stomachs.

They dropped back onto the mattress, actually overheated from their exertions. The whir of the heat kicking in left them chuckling and gasping, sounding like banthas in a Tatooine sandstorm.

"Can ya imagine if we'd slept right through it?" Obi-Wan's snort was the furthest thing from his usual dulcet tones.

Qui-Gon rubbed their cooling semen into Obi-Wan's stomach. "Don't want to. Wouldn't have missed this for the galaxy."

The pipes settled into their usual background noise, more like banthas in heat, while the new lovers tried to sleep, sorely in need of air conditioning instead.