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Title: Rehearsing at Sunset
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: R
Summary: Quinn and Ian's rehearsal dinner is hotter than expected.
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 179
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
Their first rehearsal dinner: A Wedding in Arcadia #4 -- Practice Makes Perfect
To Carol
Quinn locked the bathroom door with relief, as well as a decisive click.
He and Ian had just fled their rehearsal dinner for some much-needed privacy. The party was in full swing at The Fountains Room in the Sunset Tower hotel, on a Friday night made for celebrating. It was even more boisterous than it had been six years ago -- the Masterson side had added almost twenty guests to the mix, and the sound level rose accordingly, so that they could hear the revelry, muted though it was, even through the walls of their little haven.
"Can't wait 'til tomorrow," said Quinn, as he grabbed his laddie's waist and pulled him in close.
"Too many people," Ian said, reaching up for their first kiss in what seemed like days.
They'd barely managed to restrain themselves from kissing the stuffing out of each other in public and desperately needed to do so now. Their tenuous refuge, the men's room down the hall, was clean, elegant, and a deep shade of blue, although they were not in a state to notice any of these characteristics at the moment.
Kiss after kiss sparked between them, anticipation of their wedding tomorrow firing their passion, just as their shared life force always kissed right beneath the surface. They kept their hands above their hips and their bodies a scant inch apart to avoid the temptation of actually making love right then and there.
"How much longer do we have to stay?" asked Quinn with a groan.
"Ages, I just know it," Ian moaned back in absolute frustration.
"Well, then, we can afford to take a bit of time for ourselves now, laddie mine." Quinn gentled his kisses and coaxed a smile from his frowning herven by rubbing his cheek with his forefinger in a tender glide.
"Everyone must have noticed that we've left by now," Ian fretted into Quinn's shoulder.
Quinn tucked his thumb under a dimpled chin to raise Ian's head, so his herven could see his wink. "So they did, my lad."
Ian looked up at him in blue-green adoration. "You're not going to remind me to live in the moment again, are you?" he asked impishly.
Quinn's deep chuckle reverberated through Ian, even though they were only touching with hands and lips.
"Oh, I've got better things to do with my mouth, laddie." So saying, he launched into a detailed exploration of Ian's sweet face, starting with licks along his hairline. When a copper strand stuck to his tongue, he peeled it off and let it swirl its lazy way down to the tile floor.
"I...can...see...that," said Ian, every word a struggle. He tried to reciprocate, but Quinn held his shoulders in a speaking grip, an implicit signal not to move, with which his lad was more than familiar.
Quinn continued his caresses by nuzzling into Ian's cheek, his breath stirring the fine hairs there in what must have been a pleasant way, judging by Ian's encouraging sounds. After kissing the broad nose, he nuzzled into the other cheek, as well. Balance in all things.
Then he began to tease Ian's dimple with a very agile tongue, reveling in his herven's breathy gasps. By now, he was lost in the language of Ian's sensuality, learning the meaning of each groan all over again.
Meanwhile, Ian was engaged in a losing battle with his own body. He would not thrust into Quinn. He would not! This mantra would have been more effective if Quinn had not started suckling his already-wet dimple at that very moment.
Fortunately, the door handle jiggled in a clang of angry metal, the only thing that could have penetrated their lust-fogged brains. This was followed by an impatient series of ever-harder knocks, and they sprang apart reflexively, even though the door was still locked.
"Hey, hurry up in there. I've gotta go!" yelled a deep voice they did not recognize, thank goodness.
"Meet-ya in the lobby," Ian whispered frantically. A nod from Quinn was his only acknowledgment. Hands still warm from each other's skin finally moved lower, but only to adjust tight slacks and to cover unruly bulges with well-tailored suit jackets, their fingers a bit unsteady on the buttons, especially the bottom ones.
A quick splash of water on their faces -- burning with an uncomfortable combination of lust and mortification -- then Quinn slunk out first, while Ian waited a few discreet minutes in the stall, which helped him to simmer down.
The Sunset Tower lobby was scattered with chairs and sofas for their guests' comfort. Ian found Quinn on a loveseat, waiting for him with a rueful smile. They kept their voices down, still a little embarrassed by their interrupted tryst, although no one was paying them the slightest attention in the bustle of weekend travelers.
"Didn't think we'd get a wake-up call 'til tomorrow morning," Ian snorted.
This brought a gentle laugh from Quinn. "We should have been more aware of the time and place."
"And to think that I actually believed I was learning to focus on the here and now, for a change," teased Ian.
Quinn sighed. "You certainly were, lad. It's all too easy to get carried away with you."
"Same here, ma gradh (my love)." Ian grinned at him, mischief in every line of his face.
"Have you settled down now, laddie?" asked Quinn, gazing at his lad with keen eyes.
Ian nodded. "Guess we should get back to our guests, then."
Quinn managed to sneak in a caress as he tugged Ian to his feet, and he could see by the sweet smile on his face that it was just what his lad had needed.
When they ambled back into the Fountains Room, they were met by a wink from Ethan, of all people. Then Ian recalled the way that he and Bant had had of disappearing during their reception and giggling their way back to the table.
"Hope you remembered the cameras," Ethan mouthed at them in a playful jibe, in an echo of Case's joke at their bachelor party.
They'd thought they were all blushed out, but a bit of pink graced their cheeks anyway.
They walked through the room, smiling back at the family and friends surrounding them -- everyone from neighbors like Violet and the Changs; to colleagues like Case, Evan, and Ethan; to family like Cousin Wendy and Aunt Maureen and Uncles Sean, Rory, and Mal; to friends like Bant and Amy and Danny Walker; to mentors like Master Yodama and Coach Rance.
They sat down with the others at their table -- both sets of parents and Monty with his little family -- Quinn with Lelia to his left and Ian with Jo to his right.
"You missed dessert, guys," Keith told them.
Ian couldn't look at Quinn for a moment then, or he would have burst into wild laughter. They'd shared a better dessert than anyone at the table could have imagined.
"Not to worry," Ginny broke in. "We saved you some cake. Lelia picked out the slices with blue flowers for you."
Quinn ruffled her hair. "Thanks, honey. You're a little doll."
Lelia stood on her chair, her patent leather shoes tapping on the wood, so she could kiss his cheek. "You're welcome, Uncle Qui."
John slid two plates over to Ian and Quinn with their cake slices. They proceeded to eat them with gusto, their appetites even healthier after all of their exertions.
"Can't wait 'til tomorrow," said Quinn, just as he had at the start of their escapades, with a private grin just for Ian.