Master Apprentice 
Archive
Theme and Timbre: Adagio
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Archive: master_apprentice, anyone else, pls. ask
Author's web page:http://www.ravenswing.com/ravendreams/
Category: PWP
Series: Part of the "Theme and Timbre" Series
Rating: NC-17
Warnings None
Spoilers: none
Summary: Qui-Gon wakes up
Notes: Thanks to kimberlite, Mac, Mystique, and Velma for the beta. You wouldn't think a fic this short would be such a bitch! ;)
Feedback: Waited for with bated breath.
Disclaimers: Lucas owns it all. I don't have enough money to pay attention.
The sun is rising, casting a blue glow over the room, peeking between the gauzy curtains surrounding the bed. Our bed. Our ridiculously large and soft and comfortable bed.
I should feel guilty, lying here, burrowed under blankets, soft sheets on my skin. I should be up, meditating, finishing my report to the Council, hobnobbing with the ever-so generous and good-tempered regent.
I should feel guilty for lying here, sleep-soaked and happy, my naked padawan curled up at my side. I should feel guilty.
I don't.
There's little more pleasant than being the first one awake, watching the colors, watching life bloom into a world made grey by shadows. I love this awakening of home, of heart, of body. I stretch, feeling each muscle pull tight and then release, leaving a warmth behind.
He is beginning to wake, feeling my mind rouse to full alertness, worrying about me. His brows crinkle up and without thought -- how rare it is that I can act without thought --I soothe him, gentling him back into his dreams. Hush, my padawan, rest. There is no danger, no reason to fight.
No reason to wake. Let me look upon him, touch him, know him while he sleeps. Let me pretend that the morning sun on his face will keep all shadows from his life.
Oh, so warm! I curl myself around my sleeping padawan, pull the covers around our shoulders. Obi-Wan grunts softly and presses his back against my chest, burrowing into me like a small animal. Just the thought of this man, this beautiful man as some rooting animal on a farm makes me chuckle.
Propping my head up on my hand, I look down, letting my eyes trace the smooth shoulder, the arched neck. I can feel myself flush at the dark mark placed at the juncture of shoulder and neck. A mark of my passion, made obvious in the sunlight.
Deeply asleep now, eyes twitching behind shuttered lids, Obi-Wan dreams.
I need to feel him, want to see what he dreams of with my body so near him. I gently brush against his mind and feel an immediate welcome, a pull, in fact. Suddenly my mind is filled with blues, colors swirling about. Calm, serene... happy?
I need to touch him. Slowly, I slip my free arm underneath the blanket to touch his skin. A song is born deep in my chest as my mind whispers, dancing deeper into Obi-Wan's dreams.
Obi-Wan broke his collarbone when he was seventeen and that tiny lump fascinates my fingers. I stroke his nipples one at a time, trace circles around them until they tighten for me. Smiling, bending down to gently nuzzle an ear, I allow my hand to lower to the soft stomach, knowing where my touch is desired.
I pull the blanket over us, as Obi-Wan's hips begin to rock against me, moving languorously, marking the time of my melody filling his dreams. I dip into Obi-Wan's amorphous dream, sharing it with him, adding splashes of greens into his bright blues. The colors intertwine, coalesce, dance.
Obi-Wan's hard flesh nudges at my hand, stiffening, raising to meet the touch it desires. His skin is heated silk and in this cocoon I have created for us, I can smell him. He makes my mouth water and my breath catch in my throat. I begin to stroke him, my thumb rubbing over the slit, spreading dampness.
I want to taste him. I don't want to stop touching him. Such sweet conundrums.
Obi-Wan's hips rock, body moving more firmly against me and I bend my head towards him. His flesh is beneath my lips and I'm so hungry and there will be more than one passion mark when the sun hits him next.
Obi-Wan's moans blend softly into my rumbling sighs, creating a harmony of desire. We echo in this cave, in this hidden grotto, while the morning flows around us. The dream, our dream, brightens. Blues and greens tumble one over the other in waves.
His hips push, he gasps and he pours himself over my hand. My eyes are open, seeing nothing but the glory of my Obi-Wan as I come, crying out his name.
Obi-Wan opens his eyes, sighing happily. He pulls down the blankets and the sun is bright and warm. He twists his head to kiss me and smiles.
"Mmmm, good morning to you too, Master."
The End