Pairing: QG/OW
Category: Romance, Humor
Rating: PG - NC17
Archive: MA, any others interested. Just let me know.
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: How would you handle extreme sexual tension,
hmmm? [g]
Feedback: Yes! Always! Any time! Any kind!
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns these characters, but not these
scenes. I will never take money for doing this very fun stuff.
:-)
"Obi-Wan, I sense you are restless of late. Care to share?"
Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, let the plates
he was spinning dry whirl to a stop and slowly lowered himself
down from the armoir. The clothes he'd been Force-folding
settled gently on their appointed shelves, leg to leg, sleeve
to sleeve.
"It's a peculiar thing, Master, but, of late, I've felt,
well..., different." He picked up his personalized whisk broom
and dustpan and proceeded to winnow the cracks along the
floorboards for wayward particles. "Sometimes, in the middle of
the night, I'll get the urge to..., to...," He sat back on his
heels a moment and frowned. "...gosh, I don't know. It takes at
least a good scrubbing of the bathroom floor to get me sleepy
again." The young man sighed and went back to whisking.
Qui-Gon slipped the dustcap off of his fine locks before
stashing the minivac away. "Somehow, Padawan, I understand what
you mean. I, myself, have been feeling a tad unusual lately." A
flick of his wrist called a delightful purple rag to his
outstretched hand and he began buffing the arm of a fine korba
wood chair. "Something I can't quite grasp." The rag had picked
up speed and any upright scion of the dust world was surely
long gone. "Something...out of reach..." Fairly flying now, the
purple duster slid up and down the chosen arm like lightning.
Floorboards reamed, Obi-Wan packed broom and dustpan away and
grabbed some freshly restuffed pillows, tossing them on the
sofa. Glancing at his Master's busy industry, he decided it was
high time to recheck the plumbing. Grabbing a spec wrench, he
hotfooted it to the bathroom.
Out in the living room and out of polishing wax, Qui-Gon
folded the dustrag and sent it flying in the direction of away.
"Padawan?" Somewhat breathless, he blinked and eyed the chair.
Did one arm seem just a bit thinner than the other? Must be the
light. "Are you ready for Noonmeal? I seem to have a hankering
for Gissi tubers." He headed for the kitchen, bound for
cabinets and cutlery.
From the bathroom came the sound of a splash and a loud flush.
"Sounds good to me, Master." The rosy, flushed figure bounded
into the kitchen, spec wrench at the ready, and proceeded to
Force-chop the stack of innocent veggies waiting on the
counter. Five slams, six clatters and one whoomp! later, a fine
meal was on the table and half-finished.
"Padawan." Qui-Gon nipped the tip of a well-browned tuber and
sucked at the soft meat inside.
"Master...?" Obi-Wan was licking his plate. It was a lovely
plate. Delicate sketches of fat pink callie plums, in pairs,
all around the edges.
"I've been thinking." Qui-Gon slipped the tuber end into his
mouth and let his bottom teeth pull gently at the tender outer
skin. Delicious.
"Hmmmm?" Obi-Wan picked up a sanana, popped the end and
started peeling the skin down with his teeth.
"Perhaps it's time to check where the direction our program of
exercise, studies, performance, teaching, writing, lecturing,
mediating, jogging, and dusting is heading." He watched, tuber
stilled on his tongue, as Obi-Wan slowly slid the peeled pink
sanana into his mouth. And out again. "I think..., I think
some..., meditation and reflection would be...advisable." The
sanana disappeared bite by bite. "Do you agree?"
Obi-Wan frowned around his forefinger and nodded. Pop... "As
you say, perhaps it's time we reevaluate our schedule. I shall
meditate and consult my Muse, Master."
"Excellent, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon sent the dinner things tumbling
to the sink. "We'll take care of those later." He strode widely
across the room to the cloak rack, snagged his long brown
raiment and leaned against the door lock. "I shall take this
opportunity to promenade the ramparts and ponder the more
extreme teachings of Yo Pah'lei. He was always good for at
least one squick per ponder." With a whoosh, he was gone.
Out on the balcony, Obi-Wan settled onto his handknit knee
pillow with a sigh. His vision was full of folded tunics and
u-joints, but neither rhyme nor reason preceded or followed
them. In mere moments, he was tuned in and, ohhmmms floating
lightly in the afternoon sun, swaying gently in his own
personal breeze.
At half-past dusk, Qui-Gon returned. There was a spring in his
step, a wiggle in his stride that bespoke either great ponders
or great squicks from his afternoon ramble.
The sight that greated him was...outstanding.
The room was lit by dozens of candles, their flickering light
playfully roaming the angles and planes of the naked young body
spread-eagled, long lashes brushing his sturdy pink cheeks, on
a thick blanket in the middle of the floor. Roasted tubers and
sanana skins whapping his brain, Qui-Gon inched around the wall
toward his bedroom.
"Master?"
"Ummm...yes?"
"My meditations have been most enlightening. And quite
productive." He waved one lovely foot in a very fine gesture
toward a pile of soft green cloth on yonder table. "I was able
to finish hemming the curtains." His face filled with tender
shadows, Obi-Wan wriggled his hips in a small circle. "Shall I
report, Master?"
Qui-Gon was still inching. "Ohhhh...not just yet, Obi-Wan.
I...uh...need to take care of...something. Won't be a moment."
There was the sound of major rustlings from his bedroom.
"Okay." Obi-Wan scratched his nose, tickled his belly button
and sneezed. "I think I used all the candles, Master."
"That's quite all right, Padawan." Feet padded slowly up
behind his head. "Your Muse must have been in fine form." The
voice was a tad breathless. "What did it say?"
Obi-Wan wiggled his outstretched fingers and sighed. "It said
we should fuck, Master."
The muffled cough made way for a discreet snort.. "Direct and
to the point, eh?"
Delicate lids still draped shut, Obi-Wan pointed with his big
toe. "There's an empty spot for your clothes on the sofa,
Master."
"Padawan..."
"If you use your very-quick Force Power, it should take you
about four seconds."
"Padawan..."
"A Yoda-spin should get most of them off in the first second."
"Obi-Wan..."
"I don't hear a single rustle, Master. Get busy!"
"Obi-Wan!"
Mouth pursed, Obi-Wan thought a moment. Something, some tone,
in the voice... Frowning, he opened his eyes. Very wide.
"Ooooooooo..."
Viewing a naked Qui-Gon from upside down was quite an
experience. Obi-Wan let his eyes travel up the long, muscular
legs, watched as the far from delicate penis surged in salute,
let his eyes continue their happy roam up the belly, through
the brush of chest hair, and finally take in the expression on
the face turned down to drink him in. He grinned around his
little pug nose. "You knew."
Chuckling, Qui-Gon moved to kneel astride the wonderfully
naked young body. "Ah, my Obi-Wan, I am strong in the ways of
the Force, lest you have conveniently forgotten." He stroked
warm hands across a pair of peaky nipples. "I suspect your Muse
and mine have commiserated a long while on this." The hands
meandered in a southerly direction, approaching the storm
within the calm. "And Master Yo Pah'lei's favorite maxim reads:
'Dusting or fucking, your choice'. So." Slowly, he reclined
beside the length of the well-muscled young man. "Tonight we
make wild, passionate love." His voice was a sensuous growl.
"Tomorrow, we hang those curtains."
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