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Word Games

by Tarnneth (TarnnethBF@yahoo.com)

Obi-Wan was in serious danger of falling asleep. This was probably the most boring Jedi council assembly that he had ever attended. But every Jedi currently on Coruscant was required to be at the quarterly reviews. Initiates, Padawans, Knights, Masters; everyone, all sitting in areas designated by their ranks. That made it worse, not getting to sit next to his Master. Well, at least he could see him from here.

The older man was looking just as bored as Obi-Wan was feeling. He took a moment to study the well-loved features of that face. Broad forehead, heavy serious brows, bright deep-set eyes, sharp crooked nose, and those lips! Sweet Force, a pair of the most perfect lips in the entire universe surrounded by a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. Qui-Gon’s vanity over his hair, both head and facial, was something that always made his Padawan smile. But with hair like that, who could blame him? A long, silky-soft brown mass streaked with silver. The man often pointed to his apprentice and said that there hadn’t been any gray there before he’d taken him as his Padawan. Obi-Wan would then remind him that that had been six years ago, almost seven.

Obi-Wan smiled; remembering the attentions he had bestowed on those very features just the night before. He recalled Qui-Gon's low rumbling chuckles as his young lover had covered his face, neck, and torso with wet little kisses. The young Jedi smiled at the flood of memories that came to him.

His Master’s head turned suddenly, gifting him with a raised eyebrow and a half smile. His eyes twinkling, the older man turned away.

The terminal in front of Obi-Wan beeped then, catching his attention. He looked down to see a message flashing there. -Bored, my Padawan?-

Smirking, he typed a reply. -Intolerably so, Master-

A tickle of amusement touched him through their bond. -Play a game with me, Obi-Wan. Word association. Whatever comes to your mind-

What was Qui-Gon up to? -All right- He typed and waited.

-I’ll begin. Want-

Obi-Wan looked at the word. He thought about it a moment and then started typing. -Out of here. Alone with you. Your hands. Your lips. Want you, Qui-Gon-

-Hmmmm. Your turn-

He thought for a bit. -Desire-

A mental chuckle. -No subtlety-

-Is that your answer, Master?- He stared at the screen, waiting for his lover’s words.

-A quiet place. Your body against mine. My Obi-Wan-

The warm passion that flowed across the training bond made the young man blush. What would Qui-Gon write next?

-Taste- Obi-Wan had to stifle a chuckle. 'Now who lacks subtlety?' he thought.

-Your mouth. Sweat clinging to your skin. The rush of your essence on my tongue- The last statement took a bit of effort to type. He had to shield the terminal screen so no one could see his words.

-Indeed- The padawan smiled at the sound of Qui-Gon’s mental chuckle in his head.

-Yes. My turn again. Touch- Obi-Wan tapped his fingers on the desk and waited, growing impatient with the time it took his lover to respond.

-Your lips wrapped round me, your hands on my thighs and the feel of your braid wound round my hand as your tongue strokes along my erect flesh-

Obi-Wan shuddered at the picture the words evoked. Qui-Gon had taken his image and run with it, made it more complete and erotic with each word. Now he really had to shield the terminal screen from casual eyes. He would have to opt for a less sexual word next to calm his raising passion.

-Lovely- It was all that came to him. The word did describe the things going through Obi-Wan’s head perfectly.

-Thoughts of you. Of us and our life together. That’s lovely-

-Yes, Master, very lovely. You next- Obi-Wan grinned widely; enjoying this little game they were playing. It was a lot more interesting than the assembly.

-Sublime-

An odd one. The Padawan stared at the word a moment, unsure of the best way to respond. It came to him in a flash and he started typing, again shielding the screen. -Waking up with you every morning, knowing that you love me as I do you-

Love flowed over the bond and Obi-Wan sent back his own matching feelings to Qui-Gon.

-Hands- The young Jedi typed quickly and waited for the reply that was slow in coming.

-Yours seem so small compared to mine. Long, nimble fingers. Strong hands. I do very much like the feel of your hands on me-

-Thank you, Master-

-You are welcome, my Padawan-

There was a pause, then a word flashed onto the screen. -Body-

Obi-Wan chuckled. -Easy. Our naked bodies, curled together, joined and moving as one to bring us both to blinding climax-

-Obi-Wan...-

-Yes, Master?- He smiled at the screen.

-You will drive me to distraction, my own-

-That is what I intend, my Master. Now my next word is... hair-

-Hair, Obi-Wan?-

-Yes. Hair- Obi-Wan was staring at the cascade of hair that lay against his master’s shoulders. He wondered how Qui-Gon would answer.

-You are obsessed with mine, aren’t you? Weaving your Padawan braid for you. Every time I do, I feel reconnected to you. A symbol of our partnership and our love-

There was a bit of a pause, then the words started again. -I cannot wait until you can grow your hair out longer so I can tangle my fingers into it with the same passion as you do mine-

Obi-Wan grinned and stroked his hand down the length of his braid. He closed his eyes and shuddered, opening them to find a new word flashing on the screen.

-Sound-

The young Jedi clucked his tongue and thought before starting to type. -That startled gasp you make as I take you into my mouth. Your moans and grunt of pleasure as I thrust into you, as my hands stroke and caress your rigid flesh. The way you say my name in the morning to wake me. I love the sound of your voice-

Desire flowed over the bond. He was really getting to Qui-Gon from the feel of it. It spread through him, pooling in his groin. Obi-Wan shifted in his seat and half stood to readjust his leggings. With an apologetic little smile to those around him, he sat back down and stared at the terminal. What should he write next? He chewed on his lip and then typed the first word that popped into his head.

-Fantasy-

After another shared flash of lust, words blinked onto the screen. -I have one where we are standing before the Council, protesting our right to love each other, to be lovers and Master and Padawan at once. You become very flushed and angry and kiss me hard so they’ll all see the depth of our passion. But we don’t stop at a kiss or even a few kisses. With the entire Council watching, you drop to your knees and open my pants to take me deep into your throat. Once I am so hard I’m aching, you turn to present your perfect ass to me, having pushed your leggings down to your knees. I can’t stop from kneeling down and taking you hard and fast for all assembled to see. We rut like wild beasts, the chamber walls bouncing our cries back to us and all the Councilors enrapt by the sight of our wanton act. None can tear their eyes away from us. So we climax, shouting our love for the room to hear. We do not speak afterwards; just rearrange our clothing and bow before leaving the room-

Obi-Wan stared unblinking at the screen for several long moments, heat rising up his neck. And to another part of his body as well. He pulled at the collar of his tunic and wished he had some water to drink. When they got back to their quarters, Qui-Gon would have to beat him off with his saber if he wasn’t in the mood.

‘Not that I really had to worry about that,’ he thought with a sudden grin, images of the myriad things he’d do to his Master once they were alone flashing though his mind and spilling across their bond unchecked. More time passed with no word appearing on his terminal, but Obi-Wan’s need still raged. Then a word appeared. -Joy-

Sigh, yet another easy one. -You-

There was a longish pause. -Just me? I’m joy?-

Head bowed over the screen, Obi-Wan typed without thinking. -For me, you are. Qui-Gon is my joy-

-And you are my bliss, sweet Obi-Wan.- The screen went blank and Obi looked up see his Master standing in front of his terminal. His eyes came up from the screen and settled on his Padawan’s startled gaze.

Looking around the room, Obi-Wan noticed that most everyone had left the hall. His eyes returned to Qui-Gon and he smiled. -It seems that the assembly is over, Master.-

-Indeed it does, young Padawan. I think perhaps we should continue this conversation in our quarters.-

Obi-Wan gave the man his cheekiest smile. -Do you, Master?-

-Yes, I do.- He stood there, his hands in his robe, looking for all the universe like the most serene Jedi Master. Composed, reserved. Not at all planning to take his young charge back to their shared bed and ravish him. But Obi-Wan knew better.

Standing up, his own hands going into his the sleeves of his robe, the Padawan moved around his terminal and followed his Master to the front of the room. At the print station, a dark-haired Padawan handed Qui-Gon his printout. She gave Obi-Wan a funny, longing look and handed him his printout as well. "Thanks, Venda." He said absently and started to read it when he ran into the mountain of his Master’s back.

Qui-Gon’s head turned sharply to look at the dark-haired girl. "Excuse me, Padawan-?"

"Rega."

"Padawan Rega, yes. Are all the printouts identical?"

"Oh no, Master Jinn. Only yours and Ob... er ... Padawan Kenobi’s contain that conversation." She bit her lip.

Obi-Wan bit his thumb to control a laugh. Qui-Gon’s eyes narrowed, then his lips quirked into a half-smile. "Well then, we will just have to be more careful of our conversations in future." He headed out the door, looking serene again. "Coming, Padawan?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan called and gave Venda an evil grin.

"You lucky son of a Sith." She gave him the most envious of looks.

"I'd love to chat, Venda, but as you can see, my Master needs me. Lunch tomorrow, perhaps?" But before she had a chance to reply, a low gasp escaped from Obi-Wan and he suddenly rushed out of the room to catch up with his Qui-Gon.

End?