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Title: Independence Day at Lake Saasta
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Quinn and Ian's holiday weekend.
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 175
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
Lyrics to "Sloop John B" by The Beach Boys: SLOOP JOHN B Lyrics - BEACH BOYS
Here are the yearly Academic Arcadia Fourth of July stories:
2004 -- 27) Independence Day: Let Freedom Ring
2005 -- 48) Declaration of Independence
2006 -- 81) Meditations on Freedom
2007 -- 105) An Arcadian Picnic
2008 -- 127) A Dazzling Display
2009 -- 145) Fourth and Maine (my favorite)
2010 -- 161) Two Hundred and Counting
The first time they were at the lake: Valentine Woods
"'Tis beautiful!" Quinn beamed at Ian, after he got his first good look at the lake sparkling in front of them.
Although it was their second visit to Case's cabin, this was the first time Ian and Quinn could see the blue-green waters of Lake Saasta. When they'd stayed here before, over this year's Valentine's weekend, the lake was covered with a layer of ice, obscuring its vibrant colors.
This time, Case had offered them the cabin for the Fourth of July weekend to thank them for their extra advising work this summer. He was relying more and more heavily on his best team and wanted them well-rested for the remainder of their summertime schedule. Besides, he was spending the holiday in Washington State with his parents and younger sisters, so the cabin would have been vacant anyway.
Since the Fourth of July fell on a Monday this year, the professors had three days to play and were looking forward to every one of them. One of the best things about a vacation was the anticipation of it, and Case had been wise enough to let them know of his plans back in June.
They got their duffels out of the back seat of the Audi and ambled up to the cabin. The door was stuck from heat expansion, so Quinn used his shoulder to put a little extra mustard into opening it, much to Ian's delight. Dropping their duffels on the planked floor, the first thing they did after putting the groceries away was to open the windows to get rid of the musty smell in the air. As soon as they raised them, the breeze caressed their faces, giving them a taste of the outdoors waiting for them, just outside the cabin.
The windows at the back of the cabin had cool green views of the woods and a broad path leading through them, while the windows in front had cool blue views of Lake Saasta and the lighter blue of the sky above it. Ever safety-conscious, Case had let them know that the lake had a maximum depth of seven and a half feet at the center. Even better, motorboats and Jet Skis were prohibited, so no oil marred its pristine beauty. It could have been made for Quinn's enjoyment -- enough depth for him to bask in, and pure and natural, to boot.
Just the thing for a perfect summertime getaway. Good timing, too -- Ian had just gotten over a head cold that Lelia gave him, so he was ready to swim.
"Let's go for a dip in the lake. Wanna try out the new trunks you gave me." Ian put an arm around Quinn as he was gazing out at the lake, much closer to it now.
Quinn squeezed him close. "Grand idea. Can't wait to see you in sky blue, lad."
They used the facilities, then put on their trunks and grabbed the towels that Case had left draped over the couch. Since Ian was behind him, Quinn didn't see the mischievous glint in his laddie's eyes as he looked forward to racing against his herven.
In the distance, they could see other swimmers enjoying the peaceful Saturday afternoon. Sunlight shimmered off the lake as if there were two suns warming it. The coarse grass surrounding the water tickled their feet when they ran across it.
They barreled into the lake, splashing like children, bellowing like men, arrowing through the water like athletes. Immersed in blue-green, surrounded by the forest-green of the trees, they truly relaxed for the first time in ages. No laptops or cell phones to disturb them at their play, just water lapping around their waists as they chatted.
"Remember, we have to be back in time for the barbecue at your folks' place." Quinn's hair flicked drops of water onto Ian's chest as he hunkered down into the lake, twisting from side to side in leonine luxuriance.
Waiting until Quinn was looking at him once more, Ian captured a droplet on his forefinger and sucked it very slowly, grinning when Quinn's eyes darkened, despite the sunshine. "Yeah, and Dad wants you to do the grilling again this year. He says you make the best burgers."
Quinn dunked his head to clear it. "And here I thought I was the hot dog king." He chuckled at the moniker, their own private joke.
"That'll never change, at least to me. But it's a good thing my dad doesn't know that," Ian said with a wink.
"Not a title we'd share with the family." Quinn winked back. "Ours is a kingdom of two, so there's no need to worry about anyone else."
"Who could worry on a day like today, anyway?" Ian said, spreading his arms to indicate the lake surrounding them.
Quinn whirled around in abandon. "'Tis impossible, lad," he said, shaking more water droplets off his summer-long hair, some of which flew onto Ian's face this time.
Ian grinned and licked one off that landed near his lips. "I'll race you to the dock."
"You're on!" Quinn's blue eyes almost matched the color of the lake, needing Ian's cool green to blend in completely.
They streaked through the water using the Australian crawl, spray flying around them, at home in their natural habitat. The thrill of competition surged through them, and while Quinn's long arms allowed him to tap the dock a second before his laddie, both of them were exhilarated from the burst of speed.
After a few more races, they floated on their backs for what seemed like hours, lulled by the wavelets lapping around them in the sun-warmed water. Quinn was daydreaming of Loth Lorien and swan-prowed boats floating down an endless river, while Ian was back in St. Thomas, playing with Quinn in the waters of Magen's Bay.
As the shadows of the trees drifted across the lake with them, they finally decided to dry off and head indoors. Knowing that they had a couple more days of vacation made it easier to leave the idyllic currents of the lake, for now.
One of the perks of swimming in a pristine lake was that there was no need for a shower afterwards. They simply stripped off their trunks and stepped into their shorts. Ravenous after their swim, Ian got the deli sandwiches they'd brought with them out of the refrigerator and put them on earthenware plates, while Quinn made raspberry iced tea.
Sitting at the wooden kitchen table, they enjoyed their corned beef on rye as they relaxed into their vacation. Ian did his usual deli routine -- a bite of sandwich, a crunch of pickle, a bit of potato salad, all washed down with the iced tea, and repeated until everything was eaten -- whereas Quinn was less methodical, eating from various containers at random.
Dabbing a little more Russian dressing on his rye bread, Quinn said, "We're lucky we were able to reserve August 20th at both Luke Chapel and the Sunset Tower."
"The Force must be with us," Ian said mischievously. However, it had actually taken quite a bit of logistical skill to coordinate the reservations at both the chapel and hotel, not to mention the other services -- the bakery for their wedding cake; the florists for the centerpieces, boutonnieres, Lelia's bouquet as their flower girl, and chapel decorations; the band for their reception. There was such high demand for the rest of the summer, now that marriage equality had added thousands of people to the pool of potential brides and grooms.
"Guess so, especially since just about everyone on our guest list can make it. Especially my folks." Quinn remembered that phone call in particular, in which his dad had actually said:
"Your mother and I are extremely sorry we missed your wedding in Massachusetts. We'll do our best to make up for it this time around, Son."
He had not been able to answer right away, his eyes a blue haze of unshed tears, but he'd finally managed a heartfelt, "Thank you, Dad."
Ian could see how deeply affected Quinn was by his parents' wholehearted acceptance and gave his hand a tender squeeze before he reached for the mustard.
By the time they'd finished their meal, the sun had started to set over the lake. Quinn washed the dishes and Ian dried them, as always. Sunset supplied their 'dessert' of raspberry and orange sherbert swirls on the horizon. When everything was put away, they went out to the living room, hoping to find a pleasant evening diversion.
Quinn saw the old guitar, in its home by the bookcase, and said, "How 'bout a serenade, lad?"
Ian beamed at him. "I'd love it. Let's sit outside while it's nice and breezy."
They settled themselves comfortably on the wooden steps, Ian on the neck side of the guitar, to make it easier for necking. When Quinn strummed a few chords, the guitar seemed a bit more out of tune than on their previous visit in February, but that didn't bother either of them. He started in on an enthusiastic rendition of "Sloop John B" by The Beach Boys. By the time he got to the refrain:
"So hoist up the John B's sail
See how the mainsail sets
Call for the captain ashore
Let me go home"
it had become a duet. As they looked out over the water, sporadic lights from cabins across the lake danced over its surface, seemingly in sync with their singing. Ian pulled Quinn down for a kiss before he could even put aside the guitar.
By the time the guitar thudded onto the steps, they were midway through their fourth kiss.
"We'd best take this inside, lad," said Quinn a bit breathlessly. He hauled Ian up with one hand, only grabbing the guitar with the other because it wasn't his to leave to the mercy of the nighttime weather. Propping the guitar against the closest wall, Quinn pulled Ian into the bedroom. Shirts, shorts, and underwear carpeted the wooden floor planks, and the men were very lucky the curtains were already providentially closed.
They tumbled onto the double bed, forgetting about the one pillow that waited for them, even though this time Ian had come prepared. He had brought another one from his bedroom office, but it was currently on the dresser, which seemed light years away right now. Getting up with a chuckle, he threw it to the bed beside the other, his chuckle deepening when Quinn whooped as he intercepted it on its way, like a football. Of course, he had to admit their pillow fight last time had been even better than sleeping on his-and-his pillows. But practicality and comfort won out now.
It was close quarters after their king-sized bed in Alder Run, but cuddling up close was never a problem for them. They reached for each other's cocks at the same time, delighted to find them hard and rarin' to go. Kissing while they touched, they reveled in giving pleasure. Their hands fell into rhythm together, as they played over eager territory. They stroked one another for a while, deep in each other's groove. But, as they got more excited, it became difficult to concentrate through the steam of arousal.
Quinn brushed Ian's testicles with the back of his hand on some strokes, keeping it unpredictable on purpose, while Ian pressed into the glans with his callused thumb every so often on his downward journey. Both of them enjoyed a twist of surprise. However, they were too turned on to keep this up for long.
Quinn knew it and deepened his kisses as his hand flew over Ian, harder and faster, feeling his lad keep pace with him. Pre-come made it easier for their fingers to dance over each other. They both lost it at the same time, spurting onto sweaty skin with abandon. Used to their Quinn-sized bed at home, Ian wasn't thinking of the smaller mattress he was currently on. His leg slid off the bed, and the rest of him nearly followed, until Quinn's huge hand hauled him closer, just as he heard a rough chuckle near his ear. Petting one another down, they cleaned up with tissues, then tried to fall asleep.
Ian couldn't sleep for a while; he missed the usual sounds at bedtime -- the snuffling of Artoo and Sandy, the humming of the air conditioner, the chirping of crickets in the backyard. He snuggled into the sleeping Quinn and let his snoring -- one constant, vacation or no -- lull him to sleep.
*****
The next morning, Quinn woke to the aromas of coffee and buttermilk pancakes on the griddle. Smiling, he found his shorts inside out half-hanging off the nightstand, caught on the corner nearest the window. His underwear was harder to find, but he was up to the challenge -- it turned out that it had nestled on the storage locker under the bed, by the headboard. At least that way, both boxer-briefs and shorts had kept clean, so he put them on again as he whistled his way out to the kitchen.
"I knew the scent of hotcakes would work better than the most reliable alarm clock to roust you out of bed, ma herven." Ian clicked off the stove before he turned to greet Quinn with a kiss.
Neither one of them had bothered with a shirt that morning, so the kiss was all the more intimate. Their chest hair and skin rubbed together deliciously.
"You know me so well, laddie," Quinn said, nipping at said laddie's nose.
"Especially since I added cinnamon to the batter, just the way you like it," said Ian, enjoying the nips, which increased at this statement.
Quinn got out mugs, plates, and silverware for two, and watched as Ian expertly flipped the flapjacks onto the plates. They brought their own coffee and food to the table and started to eat.
Quinn asked, "So, what would you like to do today?"
"Let's go for a hike around the lake, while it's still early." Ian followed the trail of maple syrup around his plate with a bit of his pancake. "The shade should keep us cool."
"And then we can go for a swim when we get back," Quinn said with enthusiasm.
Ian grinned at him. "Sounds like a plan."
When they finished eating, they fell into their usual clean-up routine. While Quinn washed and Ian dried, they took advantage of the gorgeous summertime view. Instead of an ice-crystalled winterscape, they were treated to the sight of water the colors of Ian's changeable eyes as they looked out the window.
Before heading out, they decided to read a bit while they digested their meal. Ian was knee-deep in The House of Mirth for his Wharton paper, while Quinn re-read Vonnegut's The Sirens of Titan. They sat on the couch, with Ian leaning into Quinn's shoulder, and read for almost an hour.
Since they'd be walking in the shade of hundreds of trees surrounding the lake, they didn't bother to put their Luke t-shirts on for their jaunt. Shirtless, they held hands as they set off up the path, bare arms brushing intimately.
"Have you thought of where you'd like to go on our honeymoon?" Quinn asked.
"Well, we'll only have a week and a half left before the semester starts, so somewhere not too far afield," said Ian. "And we really should get back a little early, to prepare for our classes."
"It's a good idea to stay relatively close to home," Quinn agreed.
"How 'bout Cape May?" asked Ian. "Kathy and Monty vacationed there last year, and they loved the Victorian gingerbread houses and nice beaches."
Quinn smiled. "Sounds good. We can see how The Wayfarers' Inn stacks up against the architecture there."
"And I have a feeling they have some great seafood restaurants," Ian added. He knew his Quinn, inside and out.
"You've convinced me, laddie." Quinn chuckled. "At least we won't have to worry about our tuxes fitting after the ceremony," he said dryly, patting Ian's stomach.
"I'm sure we'll be able to work it all off, love," said Ian with a wink.
"No worries on that score, lad," Quinn answered in a low voice.
They were already more than halfway around the lake, and they hadn't met anyone yet. They'd seen a few swimmers by the northern edge, but that was all. Apparently, swimming was more popular than hiking in these parts. And no wonder, at this time of year.
Despite the shade, they were a bit sweaty, since the temperature was about 75 degrees, and they were walking at a good clip.
"Glad we left our shirts off, lad," Quinn said, wiping his forehead with his arm.
"Me, too, Quinn," Ian teased, frankly ogling him.
Quinn's flush was almost indistinguishable from his tan, though not to Ian's knowing eyes.
By the time they got back to the cabin, they were literally itching to go for a swim. They peeled off their sweat-soaked underwear and shorts and threw them into their improvised hamper -- a canvas totebag -- crowing as they dunked them, one after another. Their trunks were ready for them, dry after spending the night on the clothesline strung across the shower stall in the bathroom.
But not for long. Pausing to grab the inflatable raft that Case had left propped up against the living room wall for them, Quinn followed Ian outdoors. They ran into the lake, cheering wildly, more enthusiastic than a pair of eight-year-olds. The water felt impossibly good on their skin after their hike, just what they needed to cool off fast. Quinn floated the green raft onto the water and tried to get on. His technique, Ian was delighted to see, had improved since St. Thomas, and he made it onto the raft without being swamped.
Luckily, there was enough room for two to lie comfortably side by side, so Ian scrambled on beside him, the raft lurching precariously to one side as he did so. They paddled with their hands and made their desultory way through the water surrounding them.
A bunch of children on the other side of the lake, their parents sitting on the grass under the shade of a huge tree, saw them floating by and waved and called to them cheerfully. They stopped paddling and pulled the raft to shore. Everyone, kids and adults, introduced themselves. They chatted with their new acquaintances for a pleasant half hour, all of them relaxing in the cool shade.
Then a dark-haired little girl named Natsumi asked Quinn, "Could we have a ride on your raft, please, sir?"
"Can you swim, Natsumi?" Quinn asked her seriously. She nodded at him, her ponytail bobbing, the rest of the children nodding along with her. He looked to her parents for confirmation. "Then if your folks say yes, sure," said Quinn.
After permission was granted, Quinn asked who wanted to go first. Tiny hands were raised so enthusiastically, it felt like one of his classes, with a much younger group of students. After they'd all put on their water wings, the kids were ready to go. He and Ian began a routine of hoisting the little ones onto the raft, two at a time, and chugging across the lake, making tugboat sounds. The kids giggled throughout their ride. After their last small passenger had left the raft, the men said their goodbyes and got on again themselves. Now the waves from the children, which their parents echoed, were regretful; they didn't want their new friends to leave so soon.
They made a few more trips across the lake, relaxing on their backs to enjoy the late-afternoon breeze and the shade spreading cool across the water. Finally, as the sun was setting, Ian dragged the raft onto the shore, and they went in to eat dinner.
This time, it was spaghetti primavera, using the vegetables they'd brought with them. They ate quickly, since they were hungry after all that exercise. After the clean-up, they decided to read for a while before bedtime. Quinn grabbed both books from their duffels, and they lounged on the couch, relaxing into different universes.
Ian looked up from his page when he heard the first burst of sound. "Fireworks," he said with a grin.
"Ah, whoever's setting them off is probably leaving tomorrow, like we are," said Quinn.
"Nice not to miss a chance to celebrate," Ian said.
They went out to sit on the steps, front-row seats to the free show. They weren't expecting much, since these were private fireworks, so they were delighted when they were treated to yellow sparklers, waterfalls of red, white, and blue, as well as their beloved green and blue Roman candles.
The blaze in the sky was reflected beautifully by the waters of the lake. Hot and cold, just like their twin vacations here, in high summer and wintertime.
When the last rush of color had faded into the stars, they went inside for the night. Tired from all that swimming, they fell asleep moments after snuggling into each other in bed.
*****
When they awakened on the Fourth of July at a little after 9 am, the men felt truly independent. The next few hours were all theirs, to do with as they pleased. They'd head to Padua in the early afternoon for the family cookout. Until then, they could revel in their free time.
After a breakfast of Cracklin' Oat Bran and skim milk, they played a few rounds of gin rummy, then put on their trunks. Grabbing their towels, they headed outside and ran into the lake. They stayed in the cool water for a couple of hours, starting an impromptu racing war with a variety of strokes -- butterfly, backstroke, and breaststroke -- for a change of pace from their usual Australian crawl.
Ian's amazing bursts of speed gave him the edge over the relatively short distance to the dock, and he took full advantage of it, even wiggling his tongue out like a little boy when he won the day.
After the umpteenth time of hitting the dock with his fingers just a bare second too late, and seeing that adorable tongue peeking out at him, Quinn finally called, "Truce, General! Truce!" through tears of laughter, which were all but indistinguishable from the spray of the freshwater lake. He turned out the pocket of his swimsuit and waved it like a white flag.
It was Ian's turn to guffaw at that. "Surrender to me now," he barked out between laughs.
Quinn swam up to him, as close as could be. "If you'll just wait a couple minutes, I promise I will."
Ian's eyes caught fire at that offer, no matter the water around them. He didn't say a word, not trusting his voice, but raced to the shore, swimming even faster than he had during their war games. He looked over his shoulder as he neared the grass, impatient at the relative slowness of his husband. They left the lake the same way they'd entered it -- running.
Stripping off their trunks, they dove onto the bed, dripping wet and wild. When Quinn reached for the lube on the nightstand, Ian rolled on top and looked down at his prize. "Mine!" was his exhilarated shout.
"All yours, Ian," Quinn said in a sultry tone.
Ian used his amazing hips to align their cocks, drawing grunts from both of them. Then they kissed and kissed, growing harder and harder as they did so. Ian licked a path across Quinn's already-wet face, starting with his forehead, detouring to his nose, with each bump lovingly dabbed, then onto his cheeks with their afternoon fuzz, down to that scrumptious chin.
He ran his hands over Quinn's arms, relishing the feel of all that muscle idling under his fingertips. For now. He nuzzled Quinn's neck, paying particular attention to the sensitive spot just above his right ear. Careful to keep their cocks together, he got up on his knees, so he could explore Quinn's acres of chest, suckling the tasty skin nearest him, while petting the rest.
Quinn lifted his hand to touch Ian's cheek. "And I thought I was in heaven in the lake," he whispered.
"This is just a taste of it. I'll take you there soon, ma herven." Ian kissed his lips, a non-verbal promise, as well. His fingertips skimmed over Quinn's stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They inched further down so gradually that Quinn actually jumped when Ian reached the coarse hairs at his groin.
His grin all mischief, Ian caressed the hairs just the way Quinn liked it, with firm, carding strokes. Delighted with the guttural sounds this earned, Ian took Quinn's pulsing cock in his best saber grip and started to move his hand up and down in the most delicious way.
The sure grip of Ian's fingers and the heat of them sent Quinn's arousal through the roof. "Please!" he ground out. No more of his words were comprehensible, but Ian understood him just fine anyway.
Ian mouthed the tip, then wiggled his tongue into the slit, all the while holding down Quinn's hips with his arm, glad he had stepped up the repetitions on his giant swings. He sucked in as much of the shaft as he could take and drenched it in his saliva, knowing Quinn liked it wet. He petted taut balls with a tender touch, and let Quinn thrust away inside his mouth.
Now Quinn truly knew what heaven felt like, as he came and came into Ian's sweet mouth. He distantly registered Ian suckling him to quiescence, then giving a benedictory kiss to the glans.
Ian snuggled into his side, perfectly content to wait until Quinn was up for Round Two. His erection pressed promises into Quinn's stomach, though, promises Quinn was very much interested in fulfilling. He handed the lube to Ian with lust and love in his eyes, gazing at his husband as he slathered cool gel on both of them.
Ian positioned him just so, legs up and back, prepared for entry. "Are you ready for me, love?"
"Oh, yes," said Quinn, his eyes on fire now.
Kneeling between Quinn's legs, Ian grasped himself firmly and pushed into his herven, careful to watch his face for any sign of pain. He became bolder when he got a smile in return. He thrust in all the way, gasping at the sheer pleasure of it, then laughing in utter joy when he heard Quinn's answering gasp.
For the second time that night, Quinn was beyond words. He used his eyes to implore Ian to keep thrusting. Luckily, Ian was fully conversant in Quinn's mind speech, because he pounded away at him as if he could go all night. He wasn't counting on the amazing sounds Quinn was making, or the exquisite clenching of muscles around his cock, however.
Quinn was going wild under him, his summer-long hair rasping against the pillowcase as he moved under Ian. He grunted every time Ian rammed home, his cock sliding rough over his prostate and making him tremble from stem to stern.
Ian closed his eyes, one thrust away from coming, if he didn't block out the tantalizing sight of Quinn losing it beneath him. But when he heard Quinn roaring, it was too much for him anyway. He came into his husband in ecstatic gushes, Quinn's spasms as he orgasmed heightening each wonderful sensation and enhancing the connection ever-present between them.
He fell on top of Quinn with a whoosh and didn't move for ages. Luckily, Quinn could easily take his weight and then some, and seemed perfectly content with his armful of laddie.
Ian finally stirred, grinning up at Quinn. "Just when I thought we couldn't get any wetter..." Quinn's come was spreading all over their stomachs, groins and thighs by now.
Quinn didn't even try to groan; his throat was still too raw, his thoughts too scattered. When he would later recall this particular Fourth of July, he always felt an undeniable sense of ever-expanding freedom, both socially and personally -- the marriage equality bill, their upcoming wedding, their uninhibited lovemaking that spoke of unfettered liberty.
Independence Day, indeed.