Series: No.
Rating: NC 17
Archive: M & A; anyone else ask
Category: PWP; First Time
Pairing: Q/O
Feedback: Always both welcome and appreciated.
Disclaimer: They belong to George. I was just having a little fun
with them, again.
Summary: Qui Gon returns home from a solo mission
Warnings: None, unless vanilla squicks you. This one is very
vanilla.
Notes: I originally wrote the sex scene for this in response to
Mac's "Something more comfortable" challenge. But the
opening was trite and hackneyed. The new opening is marginally
better, but you still may want to skip straight to the sex.
I dug it out when Emu pointed out that today is the six month
anniversary/birthday of Master and Apprentice, and that we should
celebrate with a little smut. So, here's my contribution to the
party. Whose next?
Please raise your glass to the best archivist in Europe. Oh,
sorry, America. Thanks, Sockii, for doing a tremendous job.
On with the smut:
"You're home." Obi Wan did not even attempt to hide the
joy in his voice. Qui Gon turned and opened his arms. Obi Wan
almost threw himself into them, hugging Qui Gon tightly.
"When did you get back?"
Qui Gon released him. "About twenty minutes ago. I decided
to surprise you." He gave Obi Wan another brief hug.
"Now that you're here to watch over dinner, I'd like to take
a quick shower and change into something more comfortable."
"Of course, Master."
Qui Gon left the kitchen and Obi Wan turned his attention to the
stove. He didn't bother to hide his joy at Qui Gon's return.
Qui Gon returned from his shower surprisingly quickly. Obi Wan
was setting the table. He looked up to see Qui Gon wearing a
sleeveless white shirt with a low neck and lose pants which hung
from his hips. Obi Wan swallowed hard at the sight. The shirt
emphasized his Master's broad shoulders, the muscles of his bare
arms bulged, and the way the shirt clung like a second skin drew
the eyes down the "V" of his torso to... Obi Wan didn't
bother to hide his reaction to his master's attire. However, he
managed to keep his voice calm. "Nice. Did you buy it on
Ythra?"
Qui Gon shook his head. "I found it in the back of my closet
when I was packing."
"Desperately searching for a clean tunic again?"
Qui Gon gave him a mournful look. "These things wouldn't
happen if I had a padawan who looked after his master
properly."
"I do look after you properly. What I don't do is your
laundry. You're a grown man, fully capable of washing your own
tunics."
"But wouldn't you like the opportunity to wash my
underthings?"
"No. Absolutely not."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. I may want to remove your underthings, but I
definitely don't want to wash..." Obi Wan paused as he
realized exactly what he had just said. "Them," he
finished. Turning, he fled into the kitchen. "Dinner should
be almost ready."
Qui Gon followed him. "Do you think we should have some wine
with dinner?"
Obi Wan shrugged. "Sure."
"Any preferences?"
"You choose." Qui Gon selected a bottle, quickly opened
it with a small application of the force, and handed Obi Wan a
glass. "I must admit that I have never seen anyone open a
bottle of wine with the force before."
"The force has many uses, Padawan."
"In your hands it does."
"What can I say? My hands are skilled."
"I have no doubt of that, Master." Obi Wan answered
blithely, as though flirting with his master were an everyday
occurrence. Then he thought about it. It was an everyday
occurrence. Today it was simply a bit more blatant. When had it
happened, he wondered. When had their mutual teasing become
flirting? And why hadn't he realized it until now?
"I think dinner is ready."
A few minutes later they were settled at the table. The
conversation stayed on safe subjects, covering Obi Wan's
activities and training while Qui Gon was away, the latest Temple
gossip, and what little Qui Gon was free to tell his apprentice
about his mission. Obi Wan didn't much care what they talked
about. He was just happy to hear Qui Gon's voice.
They lingered over dinner. The wine was nearly gone when they
finally rose and began clearing the table. Perhaps it was the
wine. Perhaps it was the fact that Qui Gon was not hiding his own
pleasure in being back with Obi Wan. Perhaps it was the flirting
they had indulged in earlier. Obi Wan didn't know the cause. He
did know that warm feelings of attraction were flowing quite
freely from him, and that Qui Gon was returning them.
It was the last which shook him. He had never in his wildest
dreams imagined that Qui Gon might return his feelings. But their
was something in his Master's eyes, something in his voice, that
made Obi Wan think just maybe he did.
The last dish had just been put away. Qui Gon was standing very
close to him. "Padawan." Only Qui Gon could make his
title a caress.
"Yes, Master?" He met Qui Gon's gaze.
"What shall we do with the rest of the evening?"
Obi Wan swallowed nervously. "You should choose. It's your
first night home."
Qui Gon simply looked at him for several long moments. Obi Wan
held his breath, awaiting his Master's response. "Very well.
Senator Ptoinur gave me a recording of music from her planet. I
think you might enjoy it."
Obi Wan merely nodded, and followed his master from the kitchen
to the common room. As Qui Gon went to turn on the recording, Obi
Wan looked from the couch to the chair, trying to decide where to
sit. The chair would put some distance between them. Obi Wan
chose the couch. The first quiet notes of the music reached him
just as he sat.
Qui Gon entered the room, and Obi Wan watched him as he walked
across it. The loose pants seemed to accentuate the muscles
underneath, flowing around his master's hip and legs.
The master settled onto the couch, his body angled so that he
faced Obi Wan, one arm stretched along the back of the sofa,
reaching toward his apprentice.
Obi Wan turned so that he was facing his master, painfully aware
of how close that hand was to touching him. He forced himself to
concentrate on the music. The instrumentation was mostly
unfamiliar, the melody deep, resonant and sensuous.
The sounds added to the tension between them. Obi Wan realized
his breathing had become shallow. His eyes were locked on his
master's chest, watching it rise and fall. He wanted to rest his
hand there, feel the pounding of his Master's heart. He knew it
had to be pounding, his own was.
Qui Gon's mind brushed lightly against his. He looked up. What he
saw in his Master's face made his breath catch in his throat. For
a long moment he just looked into that face, studying it, noting
every detail. Qui Gon was waiting. Waiting, he realized, for him.
This would go no further unless he acted. He leaned against the
back of the couch, resting the side of his head against his
master's open hand. Neither of them moved for a long moment. Then
Qui Gon moved his thumb, lightly stroking Obi Wan's cheek.
How, Obi Wan wondered, could the slightest touch be so
pleasurable? The bass from the music thrummed. Was it a bass, he
thought vaguely. Qui Gon's thumb continued it's slight movement.
His hand pushed gently at Obi Wan's face and he lifted his head
from the couch in response. A single finger moved along the
outside of his ear, then across his jawline. Reaching his chin,
the hand turned so that the fingers rested beneath his chin while
the thumb again came up to stroke, this time passing across his
lower lip. Obi Wan opened his mouth a little in response, making
more of his lip available to his master.
Fingers moved lightly across his face, touching his other cheek,
before sliding down his face and onto his neck. He wanted to
close his eyes, shut everything out of his awareness except his
master's touch and the music which was snaking sinuously around
them, further binding them together. But he couldn't shut his
eyes, couldn't tear them from his master's face.
He had never felt so exposed to those eyes. His master had a
penetrating gaze, intent blue eyes from which he could hide
nothing. Tonight those eyes seemed to drink him in. His smallest
movement was noted, recorded. He was almost convinced Qui Gon
could see his heart pounding.
Callused fingers moved across his neck, sliding down it. He
barely contained a gasp as they passed over the sensitive spot
just above his collarbone. Qui Gon smiled. No, he thought,
nothing was escaping his master.
A second melody joined the first. Hearing it, Obi Wan decided
that he was no longer content to remain passive. He inched
forward, moving to within reach of his master. He raised his
hand, fingertips passing along his master's cheek. Unlike Qui Gon
he chose not to dwell on the face, or neck. He slid his hand
quickly down to his master's shoulder, followed the neckline of
his master's shirt across his chest and onto the other shoulder.
His master's skin was smooth under his fingertips. He brought his
hand back to the other shoulder. This time he stroked over the
shirt. He moved his hand back again, the path arcing lower,
passing barely above his master's nipples. He felt Qui Gon's
sharp inhalation.
Qui Gon was not much given to passivity either, and his hand
moved from Obi Wan's neck, moving into and under the opening of
his tunic. The two melodies were intertwining and separating in a
graceful flow of sound, intent and focused. They continued their
explorations, still just touching each other with a single hand.
Obi Wan was torn between wanting more and not wanting the moment
to end. This silent seduction was the most erotic thing he had
ever experienced. He feared to do anything which might break the
mood. He had always imagined that sex between he and his master
would be explosive, passionate, something which would overwhelm
Qui Gon's control and objections. Instead, he was finding himself
caught in a very controlled seduction. One initiated by Qui Gon.
Qui Gon's fingers were tracing a pattern in the flesh just below
his collarbone.
Looking directly into Qui Gon's eyes, he brushed his fingertips
over a nipple, eliciting a gasp. Slowly he moved his hand across
his master's chest, repeated the action on the other side, his
eyes never leaving Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon's hand left the skin at the opening of his tunic and
moved over soft fabric to his belt. He easily undid it. Shoving
the leather out of his way, he loosened Obi Wan's sash. A large
hand insinuated itself into the now open tunic, moving gradually
upward.
Obi Wan pulled his eyes away from Qui Gon's to look down at that
hand. Just the thought of Qui Gon's hand on his flesh was enough
to excite him, the reality was indescribable.
The movements of his own stopped, his hand resting over his
master's heart. Obi Wan could feel it pounding. He inhaled
shakily as callused fingers slid over his ribs. He closed his
eyes for a moment, found he couldn't keep them that way. He
wanted to see Qui Gon too badly.
The man was beautiful. Strength, power, serenity, the epitome of
a Jedi. He was Obi Wan's ideal, Obi Wan's hero, Obi Wan's most
secret desire.
At the moment he did not look serene. He looked aroused. Eyes
partly dilated and lips slightly parted. His breathing was
shallow and his heart was beating rapidly beneath Obi Wan's hand.
The main melody increased in tempo. Obi Wan concluded that as
much as he liked his master's shirt, it had to go. He moved
closer to his master and clasped the shirt in both hands, raising
it up over his master's head. Qui Gon cooperated, necessarily
removing his hand from Obi Wan.
Shirt removed, Obi Wan indulged in the sight of his Master's
naked chest. Hardened brown nipples, a light dusting of hair,
wide, strong shoulders, he drank it all in as though seeing it
for the first time. In a way he was. After several long moments
he looked back up at Qui Gon's face. Obi Wan knew he was
grinning, foolishly, but couldn't help it.
Qui Gon returned the smile, bringing both hands to Obi Wan's
tunic and sliding it off of his shoulders. The gaze turned on him
was as hungry as his own had been. Long-fingered hands returned
to his chest, running lightly over his skin. He wanted to plead
for more. These light touches were torture.
Qui Gon must have sensed his need because the touches became
firmer, less teasing. Fingers moved inexorably toward his
nipples. He held his breath in anticipation. One fingertip
circled each nipple, thumbs brushed across them. Obi Wan
shuddered. Qui Gon leaned forward, captured one in his mouth,
squeezing the other between thumb and forefinger. Obi Wan moaned,
entangled his hands in Qui Gon's hair.
Both of Qui Gon's hands moved to his back, supporting him as he
arched into his master's mouth. That mouth moved across him
bestowing kisses, nipping lightly, sucking oh so softly. Obi Wan
trembled. He fought the urge to cry out, not wanting to ruin the
mood.
He pulled his master's head upward, wanting that mouth on his
own. Never before had Obi Wan thought of a kiss as sweet, but
this one was, achingly sweet. Qui Gon was gently tugging on his
lips with his own and Obi Wan opened his mouth in response. A low
groan escaped as Qui Gon eased his tongue between those open
lips. The tempo of the music slowed again as did the movements of
his master's lips and tongue and Obi Wan realized that Qui Gon's
delicate exploration of his mouth was occurring in time to the
music.
He wrapped his arms around Qui Gon's shoulders, pressing his
chest against his master's. The second melody surged. Obi Wan
wrapped his tongue around Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon's erection was pressed against him. He controlled the
urge to press himself against it. He concentrated on deepening
their kiss, exploring Qui Gon's mouth as his had been explored.
Obi Wan was not delicate. He was almost shaking with need and he
channeled all of that need into his kiss. His hands clasped the
back of Qui Gon's head, holding it still, as he penetrated deeply
into that mouth. His master tasted slightly of the wine they had
shared during dinner.
Qui Gon broke the kiss. Moved gracefully off of the couch. He
held out a hand and Obi Wan took it.
Qui Gon led him to his bed, then moved away. Candlelight
blossomed next to the bed. Qui Gon moved to the wall, adjusted
something, and music flowed into the room.
His master returned to him, stood in front of him. He cupped Obi
Wan's face in his large hands, bent to kiss him. The kiss was
tender, slow, and Obi Wan groaned partially in arousal and
partially in frustration. The tension building in him was
becoming unbearable. He wanted to beg Qui Gon to end it. He
wanted the sweet torment to continue.
Qui Gon released him. They were not touching at all. Qui Gon's
hands moved to his waist, quickly undid the fastenings of his
trousers. Then he knelt, unfastening Obi Wan's boots. Obi Wan
helped him to remove the boots, then held his breath as Qui Gon
tugged on his pants. They slid easily over his hips. He stepped
gracefully from them as they reached the floor.
Qui Gon looked up at him meeting his eyes. His hands moved up the
length of Obi Wan's legs, stopping to take hold of his hips. His
master's piercing gaze had been softened by desire. Obi Wan
reached out and gently touched his face, felt Qui Gon lean into
his touch.
The music soared. Qui Gon licked the end of his cock. Obi Wan
shuddered at the slight contact. Qui Gon took a small amount of
him into his mouth and sucked, his tongue swirling around the
tip. Obi Wan's hands moved to the back of his master's head. He
needed the support.
Suddenly the warm softness left him. Qui Gon stood. It took Obi
Wan a moment to register the change. Then he reached for the tie
on his masters trousers, undid it with a swift tug. The pants
dropped to the ground and a barefoot Qui Gon stepped out of them
easily.
Obi Wan's eyes trailed down his master's body, moving slowly over
him. He knew his appreciation showed on his face as he lifted his
eyes to Qui Gon's.
Qui Gon placed his hands on Obi Wan's shoulders, pressing him
back onto the bed. Obi Wan went willingly, squirming backward so
his whole length was stretched across the bed. Qui Gon followed,
holding himself over his apprentice.
Obi Wan suddenly realized that his master's hair was still tied
back. He reached up and removed the tie with more deftness than
he believed himself capable of at that moment. He ran his fingers
through the newly freed hair. It cascaded downward, a silken wall
around their faces.
He didn't know who initiated the kiss. Didn't care. He wrapped
his arms around Qui Gon, pulling him downward, arching up into
his master. Qui Gon relented, allowing his full weight to press
into Obi Wan. Obi Wan moaned at the contact.
Qui Gon's mouth left his lips, moving to his neck. Obi Wan tilted
his head, allowing his lover full access.
He was nearing the breaking point. He nearly sobbed with
pleasure, with need. Please, he sent the plea along their
link.
Qui Gon stopped. Looked into his face. What do you want, love?
You. Inside me.
Qui Gon hesitated.
"Please," Obi Wan whispered, "I want you. I can't
wait any longer."
Qui Gon kissed him briefly before sitting up and reaching for the
stand next to the bed. He opened a drawer, withdrawing a small
tube. He settled himself between Obi Wan's legs. Coating a finger
with the contents of the tube, he ran the finger gently around
the entrance to Obi Wan's body.
Obi Wan drew his legs up, offering greater access. Qui Gon pushed
his finger forward. Obi Wan groaned. He turned the finger gently
lubricating his lover. He withdrew his finger, repeated the
process. Obi Wan's hands were convulsively clutching the
coverings of his master's bed. Again the finger was withdrawn,
quickly replaced by two.
The main melody was rising, increasing in intensity. Counterpoint
followed closely behind. The two melodies began to blend
together.
"Qui Gon, please." The words were barely coherent.
Obi Wan retained enough awareness to note that his master's hands
shook slightly as he coated himself with the contents of the
tube. Then all thought ceased as Qui Gon pushed gently into him.
It stung. It was glorious. He was stretched, forced open,
penetrated. By Qui Gon.
His master was leaning forward, a hand on either side of Obi Wan.
He looked amazingly beautiful. Pleasure and concentration written
across his face, muscles bulging with the effort to control
himself. Love surged through Obi Wan and he reached up to touch
his master.
Qui Gon turned his head, pressed his lips against Obi Wan's palm.
Then he began to move, withdrawing slightly, pushing slowly
forward.
Melody and counterpoint merged, forming a new movement that was
compromised partly of each, yet wholly new. Obi Wan didn't
notice. All of his being was focused on the flesh moving with in
him. Qui Gon's flesh. Qui Gon.
Obi Wan groaned, tried to open himself further. He felt he would
never get that flesh deeply enough into him. Never get Qui Gon
deeply enough into him. Then Qui Gon was reaching across their
bond. Obi Wan cried out at the contact. His master's presence
filled his mind and he came, calling out Qui Gon's name over and
over again.
He was aware of Qui Gon's voice joining his own. Of Qui Gon
thrusting deeply inside him, Qui Gon coming, Qui Gon filling him.
He wrapped his arms around Qui Gon's shoulders, pulling the
larger man's trembling form down on top of him. They clung to
each other. Some small part of Obi Wan's mind noted that the
music had stopped. Not that he cared. The only thing he cared
about at that moment was the man in his arms.
Eventually Qui Gon moved to lie next to him. Obi Wan moved so
that he could look at his master, folding his arms across his
master's chest and resting his chin on them. Qui Gon was toying
with the end of his braid.
"Slip into something a little more comfortable." Obi
Wan shook his head. "I can't believe you actually used that
line."
Qui Gon chuckled. "Why not? Sometimes the old ones are the
best." He grinned. "Besides it worked."
"Ummm." Obi Wan leaned forward for a quick kiss.
"I also can't believe you actually set out to seduce your
Padawan."
"My very willing Padawan."
Obi Wan flushed. "Yes, well..." He tried to think of a
response. "Okay, I was very willing."
"Eager, even."
"Okay, eager."
"In fact, I'm not even certain I was the seducer."
"You were the seducer." Obi Wan's eyes twinkled.
"But you won't be next time."
"Next time," Qui Gon repeated. "I look forward to
it. When will it be, do you think?"
Obi Wan moved to straddle his master. "Now." Any
response Qui Gon may have made was smothered by Obi Wan's mouth
on his.
Later that night Qui Gon pulled his apprentice close, kissed the
top of his head. "Padawan."
"Yes, Master." Obi Wan looked up at him, adoration
showing in his eyes.
"I don't think it counts as a seduction if the seduced party
is already sprawled naked on the bed."
Obi Wan sighed. "No, I suppose not." He grinned.
"Guess that means I'll have to try again when you've got
your clothes on. Maybe I should make you dinner and then slip
into something more comfortable." He shook his head.
"Nah, it's been done." Many times, he thought to
himself.
Qui Gon laughed. "There is something to be said for the
tried and true, Padawan."