In and Out of Jedi Robes

by Merry Amelie

Title: In and Out of Jedi Robes
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Quinn and Ian dress up for charity.

I'm posting Arcadia and Q/O drabbles to TPM 100.

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 107
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at the Master Apprentice ML.

My MA story page is here.

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, Carol, and Padawan Sue
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula

"Qui-Gon! Obi-Wan!"

The enthusiastic squealing followed Quinn and Ian into the theater. They'd agreed to dress up as Master and Apprentice for a charity screening of The Phantom Menace in Alder Run, and couldn't believe the commotion it had caused. Now they knew how actors felt at premieres.

They had started up Main Street, the Initiates from the dojo trailing them happily. As soon as the crowd had seen them in full Jedi regalia, Quinn wished he'd learned a few mind tricks of his own, to keep their more tenacious admirers at bay. Of course, aikido was right out.

Now they were safely in the theater, sitting in the 10th row, with a couple hundred admirers surrounding them. They, as well as the rest of the audience, had paid $50 apiece to watch TPM and enjoy a reception afterward. The proceeds would go to the Maceonic Lodge's charity program.

Quinn had a surreal feeling about this, dressed as he was in his aikido outfit, with his cloak taking up most of the seat. Thank goodness the theater was over-air-conditioned. He winked at Ian in the dim light, who looked just as bemused as he himself felt, though he'd handled his shorter cloak with more finesse.

Quinn had even worn the dreaded fake whiskers he'd put on for their first Hallowe'en together, the costume party at Bant's. Still itchy and uncomfortable, especially in the summer heat he'd just weathered, Quinn tried to remember it was all for a good cause.

When Ian had kissed him before they left for the benefit, he'd grimaced at the scratchiness against his clean-shaven Padawan chin. "Brings back memories."

Obi-Wan in his Master's arms, Ian in Quinn's.

Quinn blinked at his analogy. He remembered the delight he'd felt when he tugged Ian's fake braid to try to pull him closer. And his amusement when the braid came off in his hand. He'd even got in a quip worthy of Ian then: "And so your apprenticeship ends, my love."

He smiled over at Ian, who was wearing that same fake braid at the moment, their invaluable gift from Bant safe at home. His lad gave him his best impish grin, clearly in Obi-Wan's mindset himself. "Enjoying yourself, Qui-Gon?"

Quinn's flush was hidden by the dim light; he was still uncomfortable with roleplaying all these years later. "Yes, I am," he said, without calling Ian 'Obi-Wan' in return. "I'm looking forward to the movie."

Not completely true -- Quinn couldn't wait to take the costume off already. And if he was lucky, they'd share a private party afterwards, to which the Jedi wouldn't be invited.

Quinn's reverie was interrupted by a tugging at his sleeve. The little boy next to Quinn offered him some SnoCaps, which he accepted with a smile.

The lights dimmed completely, focusing their attention on the here and now. An expectant hush blanketed the room as the familiar words slanted across the screen. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..."

And the professors, along with the rest of the audience, were off to the magical universe they'd first visited as boys, and now were rediscovering for the benefit of children's charities.

Quinn smiled as he thought of his and Ian's first proper date, their dinner and a movie -- a fine meal at Larson's in Mossley, then a showing of this very film. Ah, their courtship had been the first step on their path to freedom.

When Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan appeared, literally cloaked in mystery, the crowd gasped and cheered, familiarity not blunting the impact of that first glimpse of them.

It was almost like seeing himself onscreen, Quinn thought. Qui-Gon Jinn, and yet not. And Obi-Wan! The lad reminded him so much of his Ian -- the earnest expression, the mischief after the 'saber battle with the droids and droidekkas, the palpable closeness between Master and Padawan.

Quinn took a deep breath. It was just a movie. Why did it evoke such deja vu in him? He'd been six when Star Wars had first come out, the perfect age for space battles and lightsaber duels. He had played with countless toys, from 'sabers to sarlaccs.

It was part of his childhood, and TPM had made it part of his adulthood, as well. Just as it had been for his lad. He had seen the Millennium Falcon swoop over Ian's bookcase the first time he'd visited Ian's New Jersey apartment; R2-D2, when he'd been invited into his Paduan bedroom. He had known he was home.

Quinn refocused on the screen in time to see Qui-Gon's big hand inevitably tighten on Obi-Wan's shoulder as they watched the Coruscant sunset. So obvious to Quinn that they were more than just Master and Padawan, if this Moment stood on its own merits.

Quinn had kissed Ian when they'd watched this scene together on their date, love overwhelming him. He settled for entwining their fingers under cloak sleeves now. Even in the sparse light, he was mindful of the hundreds of fans around them, including the little boy next to him.

The political intrigue reminded Quinn of his committee meetings on a good day, and he sat back contentedly, glad that he and Ian did not have to resolve it. His attention wandered to his Qualifying Exam questions, and he managed to come up with a few for Case to parse.

Qui-Gon's touch to Obi-Wan's cheek while dying snapped Quinn's attention back to the screen. Their intimacy took his own breath away. He squeezed Ian's hand convulsively; he couldn't bear the thought of ever parting with his lad. Ian squeezed back, understanding in the warm pressure of his fingers.

The movie ended with the pyre and an incongruous celebration. Quinn's heart went out to Obi-Wan in his ravaging grief. Prematurely Knighted, taking on his Master's burdens, Obi-Wan and his ongoing tragedy were the heart of the saga.

The spell was broken by the cheers of the crowd when the credits appeared. All of a sudden, Quinn and Ian became the center of attention once more. All eyes were on them as they made their way up the aisle, stopping and starting with the flow of the crowd.

Once they reached the lobby, he and Ian found it transformed into a cantina for their delight. A jazz band played in one corner, and donors sat at cozy tables, nursing their blue and green cocktails. 'Aliens' tended bar, served customers, and played unfamiliar instruments.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fit right into this exotic environment. Their table was at the center of the lobby, so the crowd had a good view of them. A Rodian server brought them blue drinks on the house.

Quinn gazed at the band as he sipped, noting that their instruments looked like a cross between an oboe and a recorder. He smiled as he thought of his private riffs with Ian that morning.

The adults around them seemed content to stare at them from a distance, but a few kids, saucer-eyed and dragging their mothers behind them, wanted to meet Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in person. Ian and he autographed their programs, and urged them to do well in their studies at the Jedi Academy. After all, this was the next generation of Luke students.

The party lasted about an hour, then dispersed into the Force. A Twi'lek attendant brought Quinn's THX Turbo to the theater entrance, where he and Ian smiled and waved at the remaining crowd. The THX's powerful engine got them home in no time.

It was their turn to enjoy the costumes.

They were used to undressing each other after aikido, but this felt different. Steeped in the aura of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan all afternoon, they felt an uncommon oneness with the characters, here in the sanctity of their bedroom.

Quinn took off Ian's cloak and folded it, placing it on the dresser. Ian did the same for him, and they were down to their gi and boots. He knelt at Ian's feet, and enjoyed the view of his lad's groin, covered as it was by cream coarsecloth. Only a few tempting layers kept him from his prize.

He unbuckled the Williamsburg boots, and eased Ian's feet from them, loving the toe wriggle which resulted. Then it was his turn, when Ian removed even heavier boots.

Ah, finally. Clad only in cool linen, they embraced in relief. Ian seemed to be used to the whiskers already and avoided their itchiness with an expertly placed kiss.

"Ready to come back to Earth, my Master Jedi?" Ian teased.

"That would be a kindness," Quinn teased back.

Ian pulled gently on the whiskers, obviously remembering how much they'd abraded him on that long-ago Hallowe'en. After a few moments of careful tugging, the last of them was off, and he ran his hand over his newly clean-shaven face in relief. He basked in the feel of the air conditioning on his irritated skin.

"How can anyone stand a beard, especially in summer?" Quinn said grumpily. "I'd only have one if you wanted it."

"You do look dashing, love, but you always look good to me." He caressed Quinn's freshly uncovered skin. "I want you to be comfortable."

Quinn smiled into his eyes as he used the braid to stroke Ian's cheek tenderly, while he still could. He shivered when Ian closed his eyes in bliss. They stayed that way for a timeless moment. At Ian's nod, he pulled on the braid, knowing it would come off with the barest of tugs. "Deja vu. I've had my Knight by my side for years now."

"Just as he'll always be." Ian kissed the hand holding the braid.

Quinn threw it on top of their cloaks, then licked the vee of skin exposed by Ian's gi. Mmmm. The natural taste of his lad seasoned with sweat. He needed more skin now. Unwrapping the gi, with Ian's flesh and scent simultaneously his to savor, was overwhelming.

Ian used this opportunity to pull apart Quinn's own gi, and they both were bare from the waist up. He felt Ian's fingers at his drawstring, and worked on releasing his lad.

With leggings and boxer briefs kicked off, Quinn pushed Ian onto the bed and covered that tantalizing skin once more, with heavy muscle. Kissing Ian into the mattress, he only let up when they needed air.

Quinn nuzzled into Ian's neck, searching for more sweat to feast on, spurred by his lad's litany of exclamations. He dabbed his tongue into the sweet spot behind Ian's right ear, and the resulting purr went straight to his groin.

His lad gave out a heartfelt moan, his erection digging into Quinn's stomach. Quinn got on his elbows, and inched upwards to align their shafts. A questioning press against the hard flesh waiting for him, and Quinn got his answer in Ian's shout.

Sweat and pre-come made Quinn's stomach itch, but he was too turned on to care. "C'mon, c'mon," he gasped out, barely aware he was saying it.

He heard Ian's "Oh, yeah" through a haze, not registering the words, but the desire sparking in them.

Ian's amazing hips upped the pace. Quinn knew he was outgunned. As his husband grunted up against hard muscle, Quinn couldn't stop his own groans. Capturing Ian's lips, he drove into his mouth as he drove into his thrusts.

Quinn lost it with an impossible twist of Ian's hips, and felt his cream blending with Ian's over their stomachs and thighs.

It was Quinn's turn to twist as he tried to avoid dropping onto Ian. He fell to the side, one knee pressed up against his lad's thigh. He couldn't talk for a long moment. "Ah, laddie. You're a wild one."

Ian grinned insouciantly. "Your wild one."

Quinn grinned back. In or out of Jedi robes, life could not get any better than this.