Hairy Negotiations

by Merry Amelie

Title: Hairy Negotiations
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hair-trigger diplomacy.

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

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 158
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

Quinn bear hugs to my friends who spot the title of one of my 2003 Qui/Obi stories in the guys' conversation.

To Carol

Ian ran his hand through Quinn's hair in a tender glide, relishing the luxuriant softness between his fingers.

They were sprawled on the bedsheet in their boxer-briefs after a long day of classes and meetings, slightly sweaty already in the warm April evening.

Quinn melted into his husband's caresses. "Feels so good, laddie. You always know just what I need."

Ian's sweet grin came out in force. "Easy to tell from the way you're purring. Remember, you're the one who taught me Shyriiwook."

A rich chuckle answered Ian. "We share a love of linguistics."

Ian nuzzled into the tempting chestnut strands. "For starters," he said, wry as you please.

"Good as that feels, I still need a haircut," Quinn said ruefully.

Ah, one of their usual wrangles. "But I like it this way." Ian felt free to indulge himself with a pout in the privacy of their bedroom. "There's more to play with now."

"And I like you to play with it, lad." Quinn reached up to entwine Ian's fingers with his own, both now entangled in his hair. "But there still will be plenty to play with after it's cut."

"Guess so," said Ian grudgingly.

"If you're that sulky about it, I'll give the barber the miss for a bit. He's scaling back his hours to go fishing, anyway." Quinn gave Ian's fingers a squeeze before dropping his hand down to the sheet.

Now Ian pouted because he realized he was in the wrong. "Nah, don't mind me. I was just being selfish."

Quinn snorted. "Nonsense. You're the only person I want to please."

That earned Quinn a kiss, when his lad's lips finally made the trek from his hair. "And man, do you ever," Ian breathed.

"'Twould be a pity to cut it, then." Quinn's soft lilt was becoming more pronounced.

And Ian's ancestral burr made a rare appearance to match it. "Glad y'gree."

Now that they had this established, Ian relaxed into Quinn's arms, sleepy after the intense negotiations. But his conscience still niggled a bit. "Too bad we still have classes. Maybe you could use a trim, after all. I know you don't like it shaggy when you're teaching." He remembered Case's acerbic comments when he had let his own hair grow a little wilder than usual, to which he'd retorted with a wink that it was easy to manage a neat look when one was bald.

"Only a few weeks until the end of the semester. I can let it grow out this summer." Quinn absently petted Ian's stomach.

Ian grinned. "A masterful look on you."

"Ah, my young Prentice, how perceptive of you to notice." Quinn nuzzled the spot behind Ian's right ear where Obi-Wan's braid would grow, every bit as possessive as Master Jinn himself would be.

Ian grinned in anticipation. Quinn could master him anyplace, anytime. "So you'd like it longer over vacation?" He shivered deliciously.

Quinn could hear the shiver in Ian's voice, as well as feel his lad shiver into him. He kept up the nuzzling, relishing Ian's responses, both verbal and physical. "Yes and no. Nice to be a bit scruffy when my students won't notice, but it'd be cooler without it."

"Guess we're back to short, then." Ian snorfled, snuggling into him with glee.

"It's never been longer than my collar before." Unbidden, a flash of how he'd looked in the Williamsburg periwig came to mind, and it was Quinn's turn to shiver. He tilted his head up to kiss Ian hard, focusing on the here and now, instead of the eerie feeling of deja vu he'd gotten when he realized he looked exactly like Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and that Ian thought so, too.

Ian whispered breathlessly, "There's always a first time."

"Ah, laddie," Quinn groaned, the taste of Ian sweet on his tongue. Making love with his lad always had the thrill of a first time to him.

Ian brushed a bunch of unruly strands off Quinn's forehead. "Guess it is a little bit out of control." His voice grew lower with each word. "Makes me wanna get out of control, too," he all but growled. "And not just a little bit."

Smiling devilishly, Quinn rubbed his furry head into Ian's cheek. "I just might be able to do something about that."

"You're too modest," Ian purred, then nuzzled into soft chestnut strands and kissed them. He chuckled as he picked an errant curl of hair off his tongue and twitched it aside.

Quinn unerringly found Ian's dimple, and slid his hair over it in a sensuous glide, made to satisfy both of them. He traveled a silken path, tickling Ian's neck with his hair, then rubbing it over his chest.

Ian gasped when his nipple was teased by furry softness and held Quinn's head there for a long moment, until he urged Quinn over to his left nipple, which demanded the same attention.

Then Quinn moved down to caress Ian's ribs and tickle his navel with strands sliding over and into it. Ian's stomach started to shake, along with his voice, when he gasped out "Qui!" as a very interested cock strained up through the opening in his underwear pouch to butt Quinn's chin. His own cock was hardening fast into heather-grey cotton, pulsing in time to each of Ian's tremors.

Quinn remembered how good it had felt when Ian's Obi-Wan braid had rustled over his cock; now he wanted to return the favor by teasing Ian with his own hair. Nothing like Ian's copper fur, he thought ruefully, but it would have to do. He spread out over the sheet, his head pillowed by Ian's thigh, cock pillowed by luxurious bedding and burrowing into it fast, free of its own confines by now.

Silken chestnut drifted over the glans, gifting Ian with the unique sensation of his husband's locks teasing him intimately. Ian didn't think he could bear it if Quinn had one inch of that beloved hair cut off anymore. He was purring almost continuously by now, his breath occasionally hitching when Quinn dragged some strands across the slit. "Suck me!" Both plea and command were wrapped in Ian's shout.

The time for teasing was over. Quinn took the succulent tip of Ian's cock, wet with pre-come spread by his hair, into his mouth. He savored the taste of pure Ian, his intoxicant of choice, as he thrust into the sheet, delighting in its coolness against his overheated skin.

Loving suckles drove Ian wild. He tried to buck up but was met by the solid muscle of his husband.

Quinn mused that his biceps got a better workout from his loveplay with Ian than they got from the most intense aikido session. Much more satisfying, as well.

Ian wailed, swamped by lust and frustration. Beyond speech, he beseeched Quinn with desperate eyes.

That look was more effective than the wildest plea. After a deep breath, Quinn took him in to the root, his nose tickled by the cotton of Ian's underwear.

Ian yelled as he pumped into wet warmth, convinced he would pass out before he came. His eyes closed under the weight of sensation. When Quinn's chipped tooth grazed over him, that was it. He spent himself into that exquisite mouth, hoping his orgasm would go on forever.

The scent, the hot rushes, the taste -- all sent Quinn over the edge, too. Semen dripped down his chin as he focused on the sweet fire sweeping through him.

When Ian could move again, he gazed down at Quinn with indescribable joy. Sated blue eyes shone back at him, lit by love.

"What was that about a haircut?" Ian drawled, reaching down to curl a sweaty chestnut strand around his index finger.

"Daft idea," Quinn murmured happily as he lolled on Ian's thigh.