Category: PWP Slash
Rating: Duh. NC-17
Summary: You go for a walk in the Temple Gardens, and see something… stimulating.
Feedback: Please! I want to know if I messed things up to terribly! Nicely worded constructive criticism is welcome, praise is begged for, and flames will be used to heat my condo during the next cold snap. ladywitch79@hotmail.com
Comments: This was, in a fashion, inspired by Dev-Aki Basaa's fic, Trophy Slave. It is also my first attempt at slash, so please be nice when I get something terribly wrong. Also, I want to thank Hypatia and Lynxie, my long-lost prude triplet sisters, for making sure I gave this plot bunny free reign.
Archive: Amber at www.templevoices.com for the JediPrudes, when you finish the page, JediSpunks if they have one, Sith_Chicks, MA, QJEB, and OKEB
Beta: Amber O'Connell-Murray
Disclaimer:
Georgie Porgie, puddin' pie,
Killed Qui-Gon, and Obi cried.
But that's okay, and that's all fine,
Cause they're all his, and are not mine.Georgie Porgie, puddin' pie,
Owns Star Wars 'till he's died.
So for this, I am not paid,
But least Qui and Obi get laid!
You slip through the darkened halls, your heart pounding in fear of discovery. But it's late, and you are most likely the only inhabitant of the Jedi Temple who is even awake. You see your destination ahead, and pick up speed. With a smile, you enter the Temple Gardens, closing the door quietly behind you.
You breathe deeply, luxuriating in the scent of flowers, and in the feel of grass beneath your bare feet. You only sneak away from your master rarely, but when you do, the Gardens are always your destination. It's as is if none of your studies about the Force and the Living Force make any sense, until you are surrounded by beautiful, living things, unfettered by rules that are millennia old. This is your moment of wildness, of pure freedom.
You run lightly over the paths, your arms flung wide and your Padawan braid streaming behind you. Freedom! The air seems to whisper in your ears: Freedom! Tonight is not for meditations, katas, weapons practice, or studying - it is about freedom, wildness, and... soomething potent, something you can't seem to put your finger on.
You sense them before you hear their approach, and you dive into a nearby cluster of bushes, pulling the Force around you like a cloak of invisibility. You always were the best at hiding. All you have to do is sit tight until whoever it is leaves.
After waiting just long enough for you to start wondering if the Force was playing tricks on you, two figures come into your line of sight. You use the Force to enhance your vision, and realize they are Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. You blink in confusion: What are they doing here?
They stop less than a meter from your hiding place. You force your breathing to calm, and take the moment to admire the beauty in both the men before you. In the shadows, Qui-Gon seems to be even more of a giant than he normally is, and every feature seems to stand out on its own, so much larger than life. Pulling your eyes away from Qui-Gon, you look at Obi-Wan in all his predatory beauty. Normally, you prefer your men tall and dark, closer to Qui-Gon's appearance, but Obi-Wan, with his dark blonde hair and vivid blue eyes, he has always had a hold over you and you libido, you muse.
Then, you watch as Qui-Gon pulls Obi-Wan into his arms.
Your eyes widen with surprise as the two men begin to kiss passionately, their whispered endearments not quite reaching your ears. Quickly, you cast about, looking for an escape route, but find none. You will have to stay where you are for the time being.
Which might not be so bad, you think, as Obi-Wan's tunic lands on the ground...
~*~*~
Spellbound, you watch as the two men undress each other with knowing, eager hands. Obi-Wan seems to want to be everywhere at once: caressing Qui-Gon's chest, running his fingers through his master's long hair, kissing the solid column of his lover's throat. You can feel the need roll off the Padawan in waves, and it steals your breath away in the form of a barely audible moan.
Qui-Gon, though, is much less hurried. He traces Obi-Wan's jaw with the back of his right hand, and trails his left up and down Obi-Wan's bare back. He ceases his caress suddenly, splaying his fingers across the small of Obi-Wan's back. Craning your neck around as much as you dare, you see that Obi-Wan has his hands inside Qui-Gon's tunic, and is slowly working it off, his movements only hinted at by rustling fabric.
Qui-Gon's head slowly tilts back, his hands dropping to his sides as Obi-Wan kisses and nips his way down, and you hear the older man's quiet groans. The rumble of his baritone pushes a primal button deep within you, and your hand moves beneath your robes. Tentatively, you begin to move your fingers, growing bolder as Obi-Wan moves lower on Qui-Gon's torso.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan stands, gently pushing Qui-Gon back a couple of steps, so that the taller man is leaning against a tree. Kneeling in front of his master, Obi-Wan holds his master's hips steady against the tree. A moment later, Qui-Gon's leggings drop to the ground. Your jaw drops. Gods, to undo the ties on Qui-Gon's leggings without his hands would mean Obi-Wan had used his...
Qui-Gon's rough moan rips you out of your shock-induced stupor. Because of their new location, the same shrubbery that hides you now blocks much of your view. You can see Qui-Gon, leaning heavily against the tree, eyes closed, chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He is holding something, and as he brings his arms up a bit, you see that his fingers are gripping Obi-Wan's short hair as his Padawan's head bobs up and down, moving faster, drawing ragged pants from Qui-Gon's lips.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon pushes Obi-Wan from him, growling "Not yet!" Obi-Wan stands, and tilts his head to one side.
"What's wrong, Master?" he asks.
Qui-Gon closes the small space between them, and roughly pulls Obi-Wan against him.
"I have other plans, Obi-Wan," he pants as he leans forward, kissing the shorter man.
And what a kiss! Even from your distance, you can just imagine that their tongues must be intertwined, rubbing against each other. Your exploring hand moves with increasing urgency against your own flesh as you fantasize about the sensation of rough tongue against rough tongue, the scrape of Qui-Gon's beard as he changes his angle. One of Qui-Gon's hands moves out of your sight and a moment later, Obi-Wan's leggings fall to the ground. Sculpted legs, a well-defined backside... the details are stored for later review. Obi-Wan steps out of the fabric pooled at his feet, and moves eagerly to the arms of his lover.
Skin against skin, sweat-slicked and glowing. Even Qui-Gon has lost his sense of patience, and is running his hands over every part of Obi-Wan that you can see... and then some. Obi-Wan, his back still towards you, tosses his head to one side, and lets loose a groan that brings an answering shudder from your own over-heated body.
You can see the muscles in Qui-Gon's shoulders and chest work as he strokes his beloved. Obi-Wan's moans start coming in time to Qui-Gon's ministrations, louder... louder... and then turn into words that shake you almost as much as they shake Qui-Gon:
"You... I want you. NOW."
Obi-Wan turns around, so close you can smell the sweat and the sex, and for a moment, you fear discovery. But his eyes are closed as he kneels, and you can see every expression of pleasure as it passes over his handsome face. Qui-Gon comes up behind Obi-Wan, caressing the younger man's sides, finally bringing his hands to rest on Obi-Wan's slender hips. Qui-Gon shifts forward, and both men groan in gratification. You stifle a moan with your free hand as you squirm in your hiding place.
All you can see is Qui-Gon's thrusting torso, and Obi-Wan's expressions of ecstasy each time Qui-Gon moves. Your eyes slide shut, and you lose yourself in the sounds they are making, and in the feel of your hand as you move your fingers.
As if from a distance, you hear them, Obi-Wan's caressing tenor calling out to Qui-Gon's rumbling baritone. Calling and answering, their primitive noises drive you beyond nearly all restraint. You are forced to bite into your hand to keep from calling out with them.
Your fingers bring your higher as the dual moans of the two men gradually lose control. Obi-Wan starts to shout out Qui-Gon's name, but it dissolves into incoherent groaning, and is overpowered by Qui-Gon's rhythmic grunts. Your own orgasm explodes behind closed eyelids, only seconds behind Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's. Lost somewhere in orbit around the planet, you have no concept of time as your body tingles with a pleasure of immense proportions, though still slightly hollow for being alone.
After catching your breath, you open your eyes, and see Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon already dressed, and embracing tenderly. Obi-Wan runs his fingers through Qui-Gon's slightly tangled mane, and smiles secretly. And then they leave, once more taking up the standard formation of Master and Padawan - Obi-Wan following just a few steps behinnd Qui-Gon.
Once they are out of view, you wait a moment longer before crawling out of your hiding place. Your shudder a sigh, and start pulling bits of shrubbery off your clothes. "Well," you mutter, "that was... memorable."
You straighten your clothes, and leave the Gardens. As you make your way back to the quarters you share with your master, you do not care if you are seen. In your bedroom at last, you collapse on your sleep couch, and fall into dreams filled with half-seen passions and sounds of pleasure that echo within your own body.
~*~*~
The next day, after weapons practice, you take an extra long time in the 'fresher. Your master apparently decided to beat the daylights out of you this morning, when she saw the evidence of your restless night on your face. She had informed you that you must always be ready and at your peak, whether you slept well or not.
In any case, all you want now is to go back to your quarters where you can sleep and nurse your wounded pride in peace.
And relive last night for the millionth time.
As you dress, you close your eyes, and imagine yourself between those two men. You can almost feel Qui-Gon's hand sliding between your thighs, as Obi-Wan presses against you from behind, and kisses the back of your neck...
Pointless fantasies. You tie your tunic shut with jerky motions, annoyed that you would even let yourself entertain such dreams. Even if you hadn't seen what you saw, you would know that there wasn't the slightest chance they would want -you--; you're nothing special. Completely average looking for a human, you could run naked across a landing pad and no one would remember you. Brown hair, kept short except for your Padawan braid, which nearly reaches past your hips: average. Brown eyes: average. Just under 2 meters tall: average. Gods, even your Jedi powers are nothing more than average!
And Kenobi and Jinn are so way above average, it's not even funny.
You pick up your equipment bag, and a datapad clatters to the floor. Curious, you pick it up and turn it on. Your mouth opens in shock, before curling into a smile as you read the message:
"Meet us in the Gardens again tonight. And this time, don't be so shy."
<end>
