Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters and I promise
to put them back in nearly the same condition that I found them
in. Nearly.
Archive: Master and Apprentices, sure. Anyone else, just ask,
I'm pretty flexible
Authors note: I actually considered making this NC-17, but
well, I'm already writing another one, this is just a little
pwp.
Tel'har was a beautiful planet, lush vegetation, temperate
climate. What many species might consider their version of
heaven. And Obi-Wan Kenobi decided he had seen enough of it in
three days to last him the rest of eternity. For one, any
comparison to paradise would fade when the torrential nightly
rains came. And secondly, those same rains caused huge mud pits
in the jungles. Particularly sticky, clinging mud pits that
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon managed to discover on their own.
Obi-Wan had already cleaned his body and now he was working on
his lightsaber. It was well made and designed to work in the
harshest of environments, but there were limits.
He paused when his master walked into the room, fresh from the
shower. He nodded at his apprentice before settling in front of
the room monitor to read the daily reports. He watched Qui-Gon
start combing the mass of tangles from his hair. The mud had
been especially viscous and difficult to wash out and several
vigorous scrubbings had no doubt been necessary. The older man
was fairly jerking the comb through his hair and Obi-Wan winced
in sympathetic pain. Surely he didn't need to be so rough. But
he was distracted with his reading and it was harder to remove
tangles that you couldn't see. An idea formed in the back of
Obi-Wan's mind. Did he dare?
Watching his master struggle with a particular stubborn snarl
decided it for him. He walked over and, somewhat hesitantly,
confiscated the comb. Qui-Gon glanced up questioningly for a
moment, but then resumed his reading without comment.
Permission granted, Obi-Wan carefully worked out the knot,
starting from the ends and working his way up. The heavy mass
was still damp and felt cool and soft against his fingers. From
the time he'd been apprenticed to Qui-Gon he'd always secretly
admire Qui-Gon's hair. Even as a child he'd been forced to wear
his own hair short and now as a Padawan he was allowed only a
short pigtail and a braid. And so the long strands of his
master's hair fascinated him.
Not that Qui-Gon was particularly vain about it. He wore it
simply, tied back and away from his face so as not to obscure
his vision. He'd probably only let it grow because as a master
he could. The older man flinched slightly as the comb caught at
yet another tangle and Obi-Wan massaged the spot with his free
hand, soothing away the pain he had inadvertently caused.
The thick length lightened as it dried, turning a rich bronze
streaked lightly with gray, betraying his master's age. The
tangles were gone now, but Obi-Wan continued, running the comb
downward and smoothing it with his other hand. Qui-Gon had long
since abandoned his reading and instead was resting his head on
his hands, eyes closed as he relaxed into the pleasant
sensation.
The long strands were silky against his fingers, clinging to
them statically. He ran his hand down its length again, to feel
the texture of it against his palm. He suddenly felt an
overwhelming urge to bury his face into those satiny tresses
and inhale deeply, to breathe in that clean scent and feel that
softness against his face.
He nearly recoiled in horror at the fleeting thought. Where had
-that- come from? Sure, Master Qui-Gon had nice hair but
really, what a most improper action that would be. Even as he
pondered it, his hands never faltered, still stroked that
wonderfully silky mass. Another thought slipped in, replacing
the first. He knew how soft it felt against his hands, the
clinging filaments almost ticklish. How would it feel
elsewhere? On his chest perhaps? His stomach, his...
Qui-Gon made a soft noise and Obi-Wan dropped the comb,
terrified that his inappropriate thoughts had been discovered.
But his master said nothing and upon closer inspection, Obi-Wan
realized with a touch of pique that the older man was asleep.
The flash of annoyance fled as quickly as it had come. Of
course he was tired, neither of them had slept more than a
handful of hours in the past few days. If he had any sense of
his own he'd be tired too.
He stepped back and with careful concentration he used the
Force, with careful delicacy, to shift his master into the bed.
The other man never stirred, a testament to his trust in his
student. Obi-Wan swore to himself that he would never betray
that trust. He quickly slipped into his sleeping clothes before
settling on the bed with his master and when he rested his head
in the pillow, he could feel the very fringe of that soft
weight brush his cheek, faintly smelled the fresh cleanliness
of it.
Sleep was a long time coming.
End
Questions, comments, Qui-Gon and/or Obi-Wan, naked and wrapped
in cellophane to keelywolfe@aol.com
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