Snow and Chocolate

by Merry Amelie

Title: Snow and Chocolate
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Warming up naturally.

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

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 137
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, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue

To Carol

One snowy Saturday afternoon in January, a smiling Quinn rested on his shovel while watching Ian trudge over from next door. His gloved hand swept over Ian's back, brushing snowflakes off his parka, as they stomped into the house. They'd just been out in 9-degree weather shoveling their driveway and sidewalk, as well as those of their elderly neighbors, the Changs.

Ian bent to unbuckle their Williamsburg boots. "Talk about old-time craftsmanship. They're as water-tight and sound as the day we got them." He lined them up by the wall, keeping his thick socks away from the puddles they'd made on the floor.

Hanging their parkas on hooks near the door, Quinn headed for the kitchen. "How about some hot chocolate?"

"Love some." Ian put another log on the fire and padded after him, grinning at Sandy and Artoo as they snoozed on the sofa.

Quinn scooped Ghirardelli cocoa powder into a saucepan and got skim milk from the fridge. Ian found the mini-marshmallows hiding behind some soup cans, then reached into the top shelf for spiced rum. When the cocoa had cooled a bit, Ian stirred in the marshmallows, watching them rise to the surface like little icebergs in a chocolate sea. A splash of rum created a storm surge that capsized the icebergs before quickly subsiding into placidity.

Quinn ambled over to the cabinet by the fridge to get the packet of marzipan fruit that Amy and Danny Walker had sent them over the holidays, and put a few pieces on a plate. They settled at the kitchen table, watching snowflakes drift into the yard.

"I've forgotten the last time I saw grass out there." Quinn chuckled.

Ian scraped his chair closer to Quinn's. "Too true. It's cozy, though, here inside with you." He picked up the only marzipan banana, which was three times the size of the other fruit.

Quinn's eyes widened as Ian nibbled on the banana seductively. He shifted in his chair and smiled at Ian's knowing wink. "Oh, laddie."

Ian licked along the length provocatively, then held the banana to Quinn's lips, offering him a taste.

Quinn nipped at the treat, holding his gaze tenderly. "Thanks, lad." He sipped his cocoa, avidly watching Ian nibble his teeth-marks with teasing eyes. After the banana was just a delicious memory, he put his mug down to give Ian a kiss, which warmed both of them more than the cocoa.

"Just what I needed against the cold," Ian whispered. He kissed away his husband's chocolate mustache, and stopped him from sporting a beard by licking his chin. "Mmm. Tastes better on you."

"Does it now, lad?" Quinn licked the bow of Ian's lip. "Don't know about that. Couldn't be more delicious."

"Oh, Qui..." Ian just had to kiss him once more. He ran his chapped hands over the back of his herven's flannel shirt in a leisurely massage, enjoying his hums of pleasure.

With a mischievous smile, Ian reached over with his teaspoon and poached a mini-marshmallow from Quinn's mug, no easy task as it tried to bob and float away from the invading spoon. He let it melt in his mouth with a triumphant grin.

Quinn dipped his tongue between Ian's lips to share the taste, savoring Ian's happy purr. "Still poaching my treats after all these years?" he whispered into Ian's mouth. He cupped his lad's cheek lovingly as Ian nodded. "If I'm lucky, you'll never stop."

"No way," Ian said softly, leaning into Quinn's caress.

Luckily for them, their cocoa had been piping hot when they'd started, or it would taste like chocolate milk by now. Somehow, they managed to finish it, amid delicious kisses. As usual, Quinn washed the dishes and Ian dried.

Quinn daydreamed while he scrubbed, looking out the kitchen window. He saw Mrs. Chang carrying an umbrella against the snowflakes as she watched her grandson playing in the yard. Ever since Quinn's elementary school days, being under an umbrella had created his own private bubble, cocooned and sheltered, as if he were the only boy in the world.

Snow still made him feel that way, especially while it was falling. Insulated from others by a blanket of white. It had taken Ian to breach that solitude. He turned to his laddie, humming by his side, and kissed his forehead tenderly.

"Mmmm. I've gotta dry more dishes." Ian beamed up at him.

"Ah, lad, have I ever needed a reason to kiss you?" Quinn matched his smile.

With the earthenware back in the cupboard, they refilled the pet bowls and turned out the lights. The pups were still sleeping on the couch, a convenient excuse for Quinn to pull Ian onto his lap. They were quickly as entangled as Sandy and Artoo. A grinning Ian threw a chewed pillow onto the carpet, then leaned down to kiss Quinn.

Ian was surrounded by warmth, held in Quinn's flanneled arms, lost in the heat of his mouth, drowsy in the haze of the fire. He yawned into his husband's kiss and felt a playful tongue take advantage of his open mouth with a leisurely caress.

They snugged into each other contentedly, half asleep already.

"Looks like our pups have the right of it, laddie. Perfect time for a nap." Quinn grazed his cheek with his lips.

The moves Ian used to get up would have won him a game of Twister, and almost succeeded in rousing Quinn from his sleepiness. Ian banked the fire, while Quinn drew the drapes. They dragged themselves to the bathrooms, then got under the covers in their flannel shirts, underwear, and socks. Ian made for his favorite place, tucked under Quinn's arm with his head on the broad chest. No need to count snowflakes for them to fall asleep.

When Quinn woke up a couple of hours later, it was already dark, the safety light outside shining faintly into the bedroom. Ian's spiky hair was tickling Quinn's chest where it had gotten inside his flannels. He scratched a bit, which awakened Ian. Nuzzling the unruly hair, he smiled when Ian snuggled even deeper into his arms.

"Sleep well, laddie?" Quinn rumbled. His sleep-sexy voice was just the thing to fully wake his lad.

Ian relished the vibrations under his cheek. "Mmm-hmm. But now I wanna play." He tightened his arm around Quinn's waist and raised his face for a kiss.

A trace of chocolate, a hint of marshmallow. Their kiss was sweet indeed. It led to another, as kisses tend to do. Quinn pulled Ian up to thoroughly explore his sweet mouth. His lad's half-hard cock, trapped in its heather-grey pouch, butted against his stomach, firming with every teasing taste of his tongue.

Ian grinned when he felt a cottony nudge against his hip. His husband was ready to play, too. He licked Quinn's cheeks and chin, stubble rubbing his tongue the right way. Quinn made the most encouraging sounds, inviting Ian's sucks and suckles, nips and nibbles. He kissed his way down Quinn's nose, lavishing each bump with a lick.

When Ian pushed his tongue into Quinn's philtrum, a hungry mouth recaptured Ian's lips, unable to resist their taste for long. Quinn's cock finally pushed its way out of his boxer-briefs, boring into tender flesh, tickling his inner thigh with streaks of pre-come as it shifted restlessly, seeking its home.

"Want something?" Ian asked, petting Quinn's chest with teasing fingers.

"Your incredible mouth," Quinn begged, punctuated by an instinctive thrust.

Ian smiled and ran his lips over Quinn's scratchy chin, then on down his neck, stopping to taste the sleep-sweat there. As he opened each button on Quinn's shirt, he nuzzled the newly revealed skin. Leaving the shirt on but open, a nod to the cool air in the bedroom, Ian pressed his cheek into his husband's stomach, inhaling the scent he so loved.

Quinn began to shake, with his lad's face so close to his cock. "Please!" he gasped, his hands gripping Ian's shoulders for dear life.

"So polite," Ian teased, but moved faster towards his goal, though Quinn's coarse hairs kept catching on his stubble. His chin bumped into Quinn's erection as it surged its way towards his navel. He rubbed his dimple onto the tip, relishing Quinn's shout, then did it again. Chin sticky and wet, he reluctantly moved on, knowing he didn't have much time by the pitch of his herven's grunts.

He took Quinn's left testicle into his mouth and suckled gently, knowing it was much more sensitive than the right one. That brief suction arched Quinn's hips off the bed, reminding Ian it was time to stop teasing. It wasn't easy to capture Quinn's cock, though, since his thrusts were so erratic, his skin so slippery with pre-come.

Ian grabbed it with both hands and took as much as he could into his mouth, while Quinn fell apart under him. He could almost taste Quinn's groans as he searched out his husband's pleasure. His tongue could barely move around the cock filling him so perfectly. He managed a few licks as his fingers unknowingly moved in the same rhythm, all the stimulation Quinn needed.

Quinn came into his lad's mouth with a roar of pure joy. He felt Ian swallowing his cream, intensifying the sensation all the more. He fell back onto his pillow with a ridiculous grin.

Ian was breathing almost as hard as his husband; Quinn's length and girth were daunting, but one look at his sated face made it all worthwhile.

When he could move again, Quinn grabbed Ian and hoisted him to kissing level. His semen and Ian's saliva made a heavenly cocktail, extremely potent. "Thanks, laddie. You're amazing, y'know that?"

Ian's cheeks matched his husband's flush. "So are you."

Quinn smiled when he felt Ian's cock butting against his stomach again, this time poking through his underwear and painting his sensitized skin. "Don't worry, I won't fall asleep on you. What would you like?"

Ian's grin was crooked as he bent to run a questioning finger along Quinn's perineum, savoring his breathy 'yes'. Stopping to unbutton his shirt, with big fingers trying to help, Ian all but tore it off anyway in his impatience. He threw it over the edge of the bed, wrinkling his nose when he smelled his own sweat.

Rolling off to get their gel, Ian stepped on a sleeve, bunched up over his tatami. His laugh brightened the dim room, especially when Quinn joined him. Still beaming, he straddled Quinn as he uncapped the tube. He had to squeeze hard to get the last few dollops of lube, while Quinn bent his knees back to give him access. He coated himself and Quinn with every last drop, preparing his husband thoroughly, knowing from experience that his smaller fingers had to do a lot of stretching.

When Quinn looked up at him with pleading eyes, Ian kissed the bridge of his nose, their own private ritual. "I'll be right there," he whispered, taking himself in hand and pushing into his husband. "Relax, love, relax," he crooned, delighted to feel the head slip in.

Quinn trembled from head to toe. "Ahhhhh!"

The tip of Ian's cock felt sublime. The heat and pressure engulfing it made Ian crave more. He thrust again, gaining ground as Quinn bellowed under him. Another push and he was all the way in. He couldn't tell whose breaths were more ragged, Quinn's or his own. He wanted to kiss Quinn, but they both needed air and besides, he couldn't reach his lips from this position anyway.

Quinn grew frantic under him, writhing on the heavy cock. Ian began a series of hard thrusts, desperate to satisfy him. Quinn's eyes went wide as he bucked up wildly. Ian's hips got a better workout than on the pommel horse as he pounded into his husband, grinning fiercely each time he hit Quinn's prostate and earned a grunt. He balanced on one hand and grabbed Quinn's cock with the other, running his hand over its wet heat.

Quinn clenched around Ian with a howl and spurted onto his belly. Ian drove into him again and again, shuddering and shouting as he came inside him. They crashed into the sheets, tremors subsiding slowly. After a few moments of sticky togetherness, Ian used the tail of Quinn's shirt to clean them both, then pulled up the covers and settled into his husband's arms for the night.

The snow didn't stand a chance against the warmth indoors.