Wedding Present

by Merry Amelie

Title: Wedding Present
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ian and Quinn celebrate Bant and Ethan's wedding.

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 162
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

Wedding stories in Arcadia:

1) Wedding Gifts (An Arcadian prototype)
2) A Wedding in Arcadia #1 -- A Delicious Proposal
3) A Wedding in Arcadia #2 -- Facing Reality
4) A Wedding in Arcadia #3 -- Anticipation
5) A Wedding in Arcadia #4 -- Practice Makes Perfect
6) A Wedding in Arcadia #5 -- Meditations
7) A Wedding in Arcadia #6 -- Ceremony
8) A Wedding in Arcadia #7 -- The Reception at Roma
9) A Wedding in Arcadia #8 -- Wedding Night
10) A Wedding in Arcadia #9 -- Quinn's Husband
11) A Wedding in Arcadia #10 -- Ian's Husband
12) A Wedding in Arcadia #11 -- Honeymoon Sunday
13) A Wedding in Arcadia #12 -- A Maverick Proposal
14) A Wedding in Arcadia #13 -- An Unexpected Guest

To Zoe

Quinn was in his element.

He was dancing with Ian, alongside Bant and Ethan's other wedding guests at the Cala del Mar Resort, by the shores of Moncale Bay. Neither bride nor groom had felt comfortable marrying in New York, when their friends could not. So they'd picked nearby Connecticut, an equal marriage state, to celebrate their nuptials. It helped that Ethan had relatives who lived there, and that it was only an hour's drive from Upstate New York.

Ian could feel his husband's happiness as he danced in his arms. Their tuxes, with shamrock and parrot preening on their lapels, slid together while they moved in harmony across their little corner of the ballroom, which was decorated in a soothing seascape of blue and green. He caught Bant's eye to give her a grin as she danced with her groom, then whirled Quinn around so he could smile at the new bride, too.

Ian nuzzled into Quinn's neck. "I did a double-take when the rabbi called Bant 'Beth' today."

"I know what you mean," Quinn said. "The last time I used her real name was in 1999, when she took my Conrad class. And I don't remember calling Eth 'Ethan' anytime in the last century."

"Nothing like a formal occasion to bring out the proper names." Ian laughed softly. "Our own names don't really lend themselves to nicknames. 'Qui', I guess, for you, but I can't think of a thing for myself, unless you count Lelia's 'Wan'."

"Just makes 'laddie' sound all the more right." Quinn rubbed the back of Ian's neck with his forefinger.

Ian beamed at him, relishing the feel of Quinn's callus against his nape.

"It's good to see Bant and Eth looking so happy." Quinn kept up his mini-massage on Ian's neck. "I've been hoping for this ever since they met at our wedding. And that was thanks to you, m'lad."

Green eyes shone up at him. "Well, I did ask Mom to seat them next to each other."

Quinn hummed 'Matchmaker, matchmaker' under his breath, so Ian could barely hear it over the band playing 'Wonderful Tonight', even though his hearing was Jedi-keen. His chuckle breezed over the little shamrock as Quinn held him even closer.

Bant grinned when her Ethan danced them closer to their friends. "Hi, guys. Enjoying yourselves?"

They both said 'yes' and gave her warm smiles, with Ian adding, "Great party, Beth."

Her grin widened. "You'll just have to get used to calling me Mrs. Kotter, too."

"Yes, ma'am," Quinn said smartly, causing the others to grin.

Ever mischievous, Ian said, "Thanks for putting us at the Luke table, Mrs. Kotter. Better than sitting with your grandmother -- she pinched my cheek when we stopped by to see her."

Quinn waited until the chuckling newlyweds danced out of earshot before giving his own response to Ian's comment. "Can't blame her for that, laddie. She's just showing her good taste."

Ian grumbled, "You wouldn't be so flippant if she'd pinched you."

"I'm not her type, lad," Quinn said, eyes dancing, along with his feet. "She only goes for handsome young men."

"Well, you certainly meet the criteria for me." Ian darted a quick kiss to Quinn's jaw.

"Ah, laddie, it must be the eyes of love," Quinn murmured.

Case was the next to dance towards them, his date Billie demure in her chocolate-brown evening gown. Somehow he looked like he had more on his mind than rice and champagne.

Ian was adept at reading the signs. "Looks like Case is on a busman's holiday."

Quinn tried to dance them away, but Ethan's elderly neighbors were blocking their escape. "If I hear one more word about sticking to the advisor's guidelines, he's going out the nearest window," he said under his breath.

Sure enough, Case got right to the point. "Hey, guys. Just thought I'd ask about your August schedule..."

Quinn was ready for this maneuver and parried him fast. "Live in the moment, Case. Let's celebrate Bant and Eth's love today; there's plenty of time for shop talk on Monday."

Case admitted defeat gracefully, muttering, "Touche," as he danced off with Billie.

They returned to their table, mercifully far away from the aggressive din of the band, to find that the main course had been served. They chatted a bit with Evan and his wife, Jackie, then Ian chugged his water, while Quinn went for the iced coffee. They tucked into their grilled seafood platter, ravenous as always after dancing.

Ian squeezed lemon onto a crabcake. "I'm glad they played 'Unforgettable'. It's one of my favorites."

"You can't go wrong with Nat King Cole," said Quinn as he speared a carrot.

"That reminds me, you promised Bant that you'd ask her mom to dance." Ian was looking forward to this; he loved seeing his husband's moves from a different point of view.

Quinn smiled warmly at him. "I will, but after the cake."

"Of course," Ian said indulgently.

When they saw the ladies gathering on the dance floor, the professors sighed in relief, secure in the knowledge that no longing looks would be coming their way.

"Remember when we had to take cover after the throwing of the bouquet? Now all we have to do is this." Ian jauntily flashed his wedding band.

Evan smiled. "It's helped at school, too. Don't know why the kids pick you two to crush on, but I used to hear the most outrageous things before class."

"Luke's just marinating in gossip." Ian snorted dismissively.

Jackie said, "Sounds like my office."

Billie and Case strolled over to join them with cheery hellos, and for the next little while, everyone focused on their food. Case somehow resisted the urge to mention that Ethan had the next two weeks off, leaving the department without its summer Vice Chair.

When the wedding cake was brought out for the ceremonial first taste, Bant and Ethan managed to get almost as much icing on each other as Quinn and Ian had before them. A chortling Ian took their picture before they'd had a chance to clean up, knowing that Lelia would get the giggles from seeing her honorary aunt and uncle this way, since her favorite photo of their own reception involved cake smushing.

Quinn remembered his promise and escorted Bant's mother to the dance floor, while Ian ate a second piece of cake. His lad looked on appreciatively as they danced to 'What a Wonderful World'.

Quinn was all tall elegance and grace as he danced with Mrs. Taylor. Ian drank in the sight of his husband in motion and reached for his camera again.

When Quinn returned to their table, he and Ian said goodbye to their friends and went to find the newlyweds. A radiant Bant sent them off in style, pressing a box of cake slices into Ian's hand. "There's one with a blue flower for Lelia," she said, brushing her lips over first Ian's cheek, then Quinn's. "And more than enough for her uncles."

Ethan waited his turn to hug them. "Thank you, guys," he said, and they could tell he was talking about far more than attending their wedding.

Back at their room, they hung up their jackets and kicked off their shoes, eager to get to the good stuff.

Quinn wasted no time unravelling Ian's bowtie, white this time, since they'd only worn the green and blue tartan ones for their own wedding. He kissed the tip of his laddie's nose, anticipation lighting his blue eyes.

Ian's nimble hands made short work of Quinn's bowtie, as well, giving them both access to those pesky little studs on their shirts, blocking the suntanned skin they craved. He batted Quinn's hand away, knowing he could undo them faster with his slimmer fingers.

Both shirts flared open now, and offered tantalizing glimpses of the treasure inside them. Quinn couldn't decide whether to touch that luscious skin or rub against it. Ian made the decision for him by capturing the hand he'd pushed away before and sliding it under his own shirt. Ah, the cotton was cool from air conditioning, while Ian's chest felt pleasantly warm beneath his fingertips. Quinn hugged his laddie to him as he intensified his massage, finally able to continue it in a setting more private than the dance floor, on an expanse of skin more intimate than the nape of Ian's neck.

Ian purred his pleasure at being petted into Quinn's sideburn, stirring the little hairs there in a breathy caress. Shrugging off his shirt, he pulled Quinn's off as well, then reached over to stroke his husband's stomach, wanting him to feel the sublime sensations he was giving Ian. The quintessential blend of groan and growl it evoked made Ian grin.

"Bed," Quinn rumbled, pulling down his slacks and underwear together, then kicking them aside.

Ian just stared, mouth watering at the sight of his husband's magnificent cock, until a big hand undid his own pants and slid them down, taking his boxer-briefs with them. A rich chuckle snapped him out of his erotic haze.

"Ah, laddie. Wouldn't want me to get a big head, now, would you?" Quinn grinned as Ian stepped out of his muddle of clothing.

Ian grinned crookedly. "Too late -- you're big in every way, not to mention both heads." He got the berry lube from the nightstand and threw it on the sea-blue sheet.

Definitely more groan than growl now in Quinn's voice. "Might you be needing a lift, lad?" Quinn hauled Ian off the floor, delighted when he wriggled in his arms. He dropped him gently onto the bed, then got on top of him.

Quinn rained kiss after kiss on his laddie's luscious lips, then went further afield to cheeks, nose, and chin, always drawn back by the lure of the galaxy's most succulent mouth. He rubbed up and down Ian's arms as he kissed him, though he was barely aware of it.

Ian was in heaven, basking under two hundred pounds of pure sex.

His lad's writhing drove him wild, and Quinn felt pre-come cooling the fiery head of his cock as Ian's trembling fingers caressed his face. Quinn blindly ran his hands over the bed, trying to find the lube that Ian had thrown on it earlier. He finally discovered the tube hiding under a crease of the sheet. Kneeling between Ian's legs, Quinn squeezed gel onto his palm. He coated himself first, feeling it warm into his cock, then his husband. While he had Ian at the perfect angle for it, he took the chance to play with taut testicles and tease his perineum.

Ian gazed up at him, love burning in his eyes. "Now," he said -- half command, half plea -- as he pulled his legs back even further.

Grateful that a man of his size had married a gymnast, Quinn plowed in, only pausing to kiss Ian on the bridge of his nose before entering him, a sacred ritual never forgotten. In to the hilt, he struggled not to come as Ian fell apart beneath him. Their moans were as abandoned as if they were at home.

"Need ya to move," Ian growled impatiently.

Quinn groaned when he pulled out to the tip, then thrust in hard. "Like this, laddie?"

"Oh, yeah! Jus' like that." Ian shivered in delight under him.

Quinn kept his thrusts hard and fast, the tempo set by his laddie's cries. Ian was bucking up into him now, shouting something that might have been 'Qui'. He reached out to grab Ian's pulsing cock, its living force calling to him.

Ian made himself push Quinn's hand away. "Too close," he panted.

Quinn closed his eyes, trying not to fall into vibrant blue-green. They were both too close. He slowed his thrusts by force of will, even though every instinct he had told him to go for it. "My sexy laddie," he grated out through clenched teeth.

Ian tried to stop moving under Quinn, but simply could not still his hips. He trembled in pleasure with each thrust, his sweat mixing with the droplets falling from Quinn's forehead onto his chest and stomach as his herven rammed into him. All Ian could do was whimper and whine under the onslaught. "Kiss...me!" he finally gasped out.

Easier said than done, since a thrashing Ian was hard to capture. But Quinn was just the man to do it. He kissed Ian passionately, his love pouring into his laddie, as his hips picked up steam without his volition. He could not stop the rush to orgasm this time, nor did Ian want him to, judging by his incoherent pleas.

Ian wailed into Quinn's mouth as he clamped around him, coming in ecstatic bursts onto Quinn's stomach and his own.

Quinn buried tongue and cock as deep as they would go, and came in wild rushes inside his lad.

They collapsed in a sweaty, messy heap, letting the air conditioning blow cool over them for the next few minutes.

"That was fuckin' incredible!" Ian said, dipping his thumb in his semen to paint Quinn's lips.

Quinn sucked it off leisurely. "Mmm-hmm."

The sultry wedding night whispered its magic in the air around them.