Disclaimer: They belong to George. I'm sure you can all imagine
what they would do if I owned 'em. If not, this story will give
you a good idea.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Qui, Obi, first time, Qui Gon's POV.
Notes: A Christmas gift for Emu. What can I say? It seemed
easier than trying to ship the stuffed Jar Jar with removable
tunic to Australia.
Besides, me resist an Australian bred bunny? Me? Yeah, right.
Thank you to Pumpkin for the beta.
You're a thrice damned idiot, Jinn, I tell myself yet again.
The words are too kind. I'm worse than an idiot. Inconsiderate,
thoughtless bastard, that might be a little more accurate. Once
again, I acted without thinking. This time it may very well
have cost me Obi Wan. I rejected him. In front of the Council,
I rejected him. Said he was good enough to go on without me. He
is. But to tell him that way, to say I wanted to take another
in his stead, was a thoughtless, cruel act.
Now I sit on the floor of the Naboo Queen's ship, trying to
meditate, trying to find the words which will enable him to
forgive. But all I can think about is the first time we were
intimate. I don't understand why after so many years my mind is
insisting on returning to that night. I try again to focus on
the last few days, but my mind stubbornly refuses to remain on
the designated topic. I give in. Closing my eyes, I allow
myself to remember.
I sense him pacing outside of my quarters. I sit on the floor,
pretending to meditate, but really I am waiting, hoping he'll
find the courage to open the door.
My heart leaps at the knock.
Come in, Padawan.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Master. I can come back later. I
don't want to-"
"Nonsense, Obi Wan. Come in." I interrupt before he can
persuade himself to leave.
He hesitates.
I give in to the urge I had resisted while he was pacing. I
allow some of my affection for him to cross our link, silently
encouraging him.
The hesitation vanishes and he walks to me, dropping to his
knees in front of me. "I wish to speak with you." He is looking
at the floor between us. I want him to look up.
"Obi Wan." I can hear the anticipation in my own voice and
wonder if he noticed. He looks up. "You can always say anything
you feel you need to, or wish to. You know I will listen."
Unless you disagree with me, then I will just tell you to board
the ship. I shake my head as the thought jars me out of my
reverie. Inhaling deeply, I return to my memories.
"I know." He looks down again. Please tell me, Obi Wan. "It
is..." He pauses. "I have never found it easy to discuss..."
"Your feelings?"
He nods.
"I would tell you mine first if I could, but I cannot." Not for
the first time, I curse the restrictiveness of Jedi tradition.
"You would..." he breathes, understanding. Finally, he says it.
"I love you."
"Obi Wan," I answer gently, "It is customary to look someone in
the face when you say that." I take his chin in my hand and
lift his face, forcing him to look at me. "I love you."
"You..."
"Yes."
"Not as a padawan? I mean your padawan."
"No. Not as my padawan. I assumed you were not saying you loved
me as your master."
"No, I wasn't. Not that I don't. Love you as my master, I
mean."
I nod. Obi Wan suddenly grins at me, one of his heart stopping,
happy grins. I answer it with my own. We actually sit there
like that, grinning, for a couple of minutes.
"May I kiss you?"
The request catches me off guard, but I'm thrilled by the
prospect. "Please."
He leans forward and presses his lips chastely against mine.
Only the barest touch and then he sits back. The kiss was
pleasant enough, as far as it went, but I want much more. "May
I have another?"
Obi Wan leans forward again. This time he presses more firmly,
stays longer. I part my lips slightly. When he starts to draw
back, I take his face in my hands and bring his mouth once
again to mine. I caress his mouth with mine, tugging gently. A
rush of arousal, I'm not sure if it is his or mine. I kiss him
slowly, one brief kiss following another, until he tries to
press his mouth more firmly against mine. I let him. I feel the
tip of his tongue against my lips, seeking entry. I let him in.
His tongue glides past my teeth, brushing against my own. Then
he withdraws. I let him break the kiss and wait for him to
begin another. He does. He is kissing me firmly now, exploring
my mouth with his own. He tastes vaguely of quailla berries,
but mostly he tastes like Obi Wan. I've never been able to
describe it any better than that. It's an intoxicating blend of
tangy and sweet that I have only ever encountered in Obi Wan's
mouth.
I wrap my arms around him, seeking to pull him closer. He
shifts his weight further forward in response and we tumble
backward. Obi Wan grins at me, more than a little sheepishly. I
stand and offer him a hand. He takes it. I pull him into my
arms and lean down to kiss him. I sweep my tongue through his
mouth and then withdraw, only to capture his lower lip. I suck.
He makes a moaning sound deep in his throat. I suck harder.
He is tight against me and I can feel his erection. He wants
me. This incredible young man wants me. I abandon his mouth in
favor of his neck. I lick. I nip. I suck. I explore, searching
for sensitive places, learning which caresses he prefers. Obi
Wan is clinging to me now. His head is tilted in offering. I
know at that moment that anything he offers I will take,
greedily.
My mouth reaches the juncture of his neck and shoulder and I
bring a hand up to shove his tunic aside, exposing more of his
skin, feeding my hunger.
I move the hand between us. I push aside his tunics in an
effort to get to warm flesh.
He pulls away. I think for a moment that I have gone too far,
but then his belt drops to the floor. I stifle a groan. The
sash follows. His tunics fall open, exposing the center of his
chest. Still smooth and unscarred, I wonder how long it will
remain that way.
I step toward him. "May I touch you?"
"Please."
I smile down at him as my hand slides under his clothing. He
trembles. "Obi Wan, is this your first time?"
"Yes. I wanted it to be you." His reply is barely audible.
"Thank you." My voice is only marginally louder than his. I
kiss him briefly. "Thank you, for your trust and your love. You
honor me."
He smiles softly at my words. His eyes are wide, filled with
emotion. His arms circle my neck, pulling me down for another
kiss. The longing in this one makes my breath catch. I drop my
hand to his waist and pull him tight against me as the kiss
deepens. One kiss blends with another. Someone moans and I'm
not sure which of us it was.
I pull back slightly and tug on his tunics. He helps, and
within moments they lie crumpled at his feet. Both of my hands
are on him. I run them slowly down his chest, up his sides,
back down again. Smooth skin, hard rose-tinged nipples, firm
muscle, I savor it all.
He is watching my hands, watching me touch him. I run a finger
lightly over each nipple. He gasps. I do it again. Before I can
do anything more he is reaching for my belt. It's quickly
undone. My sash follows it. His hands are on me and it is my
turn to gasp. His touch is light, lighter than I prefer. But
the knowledge that they are Obi Wan's hands more than
compensates. His hands are moving up my chest with excruciating
slowness. I'm holding my breath, waiting. Fingers brush my
nipples and I groan his name.
"Yes?" He smiles up at me, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Bed," I answer.
The mischievous glint disappears. Replaced by a combination of
anticipation, arousal, and nervousness. He turns from me and
goes to sit on the edge of the bed. I look at him for a moment
before following. Then I drop to the floor in front of him. I
undo his boots and remove them.
I move my hands along the outside of his legs, from knee to
thigh, moving my whole body closer as I do. When I reach his
hips he leans down and kisses me. I'm thrilled by the hunger I
feel coming from him.
He reaches for my hair tie. It tangles. I remove it, shaking my
head to loosen my hair. He takes my hair in his hands, using it
to pull me close for another kiss.
He releases me and I look down. His cock is straining against
his leggings, clearly outlined. I reach for the waistband of
his leggings. "May I remove these?"
He stands. I pull them down, lifting them over the head of his
cock when they catch.
Obi Wan is standing before me, naked. He is waiting for me to
touch him. He wants my hands, my mouth, my skin against his.
All I can do is look. It's good to be able to look my fill, not
to have to turn away, fearful of my own reaction. He is
beautiful.
"Master?"
I look up, meeting his eyes. "You're beautiful."
"Thank you," he replies, clearly uncomfortable.
"Would you prefer breathtaking?"
The corners of his mouth start to turn up.
"How about sexy?"
The corners curl further.
"Desirable? Alluring? Enticing?"
He laughs. I stand. "Lesson number one. Laughter and sex are a
good combination."
His expression turns quizzical. I answer before he can ask.
"Sex should be fun, Obi Wan."
He nods, seriously. "I'll make a note of that, Master. Should
be fun. Laughter allowed."
"Yes, but only with your partner, never at him."
"You mean I can't laugh at you? Where's the fun in that?"
"I'll show you." I push him back onto the bed, pinning him.
Then I seek every ticklish spot I've discovered over the years.
He tries to stop me. Failing to capture my hands, he changes
tactics. He wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me down for
a kiss. Once his lips have mine, a hand goes to my groin,
curving around my erection. Even through my leggings his hand
is warm and inviting.
He wins. I stop tickling. I try to devour him. My mouth covers
his. I drink in his sweet breath. My hands are everywhere. He's
kissing back, arching into my hands, encouraging me.
I pull away from his mouth, moving lower. There is no pattern
to my kisses. I move from neck to chest to shoulder to arm,
back to chest. Inevitably I am drawn to his nipples. I lick
first one and then the other. I alternate between them, licking
and sucking. He feels good, stiffened flesh under my tongue.
His hands tangle in my hair. "Qui Gon."
His groan goes straight to my cock. I move lower, still tasting
him. His abdomen is flat, firm. I turn my head and rest it on
him. He runs his hands through the ends of my hair. I inhale
deeply. He smells good, tempting.
I resume my downward journey. A trail of kisses from his navel
downward and I am at his cock. I intertwine my fingers,
stroking up and down with only fingers and thumbs. His cock is
straight and thick. The foreskin has already retreated. Ceasing
my stroking, I lick the head. Not the quick lick I had
intended. I am drawn in by the taste of him and I linger,
swirling my tongue around the head, rubbing his slit with the
end of my tongue.
Obi Wan is making small sounds in his throat. Whimpers. The
sound thrills me, encourages me. I take all of him into my
mouth at once. His hips buck upward and he cries out in
pleasure and surprise.
I suck hungrily. I swallow. I stroke. I want to make him come.
I want to taste him. I want to feel his hot fluid spurting down
my throat.
His hands are tangled in my hair. He's pulling, but I don't
stop him. I do take control of his bucking hips. I hold him
down. I force him to allow me to pleasure him.
He comes. His fluid is bitter. It's delicious. I drink him in.
I'm disappointed when it ends. Such a small amount of
lovemaking and he's already made me a glutton.
"Qui Gon." Despite his satiation, his tone is questioning.
I move up beside him and take him into my arms. "Yes, Obi Wan?"
"That was..."
"Good?" I suggest.
"Incredible."
I squeeze him in response. "Yes, it was."
I meet his questioning look with a smile. Understanding dawns
and he smiles back. "Do I get to touch you now?"
"If that is what you want."
"There is a great deal that I want."
"Well then, I shall endeavor to give it to you."
He grins and rolls on top of me. "If you don't I may take it,"
he answers mischievously. Then he is kissing me. He probes my
mouth, tasting his own come on my lips and tongue. His kisses
are still soft, yet more demanding than before. I respond
eagerly. I only respond, letting him take the lead.
The kissing ends more quickly than I wish and his mouth is on
my neck. I groan when he finds an especially sensitive spot
under my ear. He lingers there, evidently enjoying my reaction.
I drop my arms from around him and clench the sheets. My
arousal is now bordering on painful. I want to turn him over
and take him. I want to thrust myself into him. His mouth, his
ass, his hand, it doesn't matter. A hand slides over my ribs. I
close my eyes. His touch is too light. It's maddening. It's
wildly exciting.
He is tentative, gentle. Later, I will show him how I like to
be touched. Tonight, I just let him explore.
His fingers brush a nipple. I clench my fists tighter.
He takes a nipple in his mouth and I arch upward. "Harder,
please. Harder," I moan. He complies. "Yes, Obi Wan. So good,"
I encourage him. He pinches the other nipple and I gasp. His
mouth replaces his fingers. My hips begin to buck. I can't stop
them any longer.
Obi Wan sits up. He looks me in the eye as he rises from the
bed and bends over to undo my boots. They are quickly removed.
I raise my hips and together we remove my leggings.
He kneels between my legs and I inhale in anticipation. How
many times had I imagined this? Obi Wan naked, between my legs.
His hands surround my cock. I close my eyes. "Obi Wan." My
voice is low and shaky.
He strokes me firmly, hard and fast. Obi Wan is stroking my
cock. It's all a little unreal. I force my eyes open. He is
alternating between my face and my cock, eyes moving from one
to the other. His face is etched with desire, and no small
amount of delight. I'm close now. He knows it. "Come for me,
Master. I want you to come. I want to see it."
His words push me over the edge and I thrust up into his hands.
Only my shoulders, head and feet remain on the bed. The rest of
me is stretched in the air. Every muscle is taut as my come
spurts into the air, an offering from me to the man I love.
I collapse back onto the bed. He moves up beside me and rests
his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him. pulling him
close. It isn't close enough. Somehow, I know it never will be.
We're lying crosswise on the bed. No way to pull the covers
over us. I reach out with the force and a blanket floats from
the closet. Obi Wan chuckles, but he doesn't complain. I spread
it across us, then reach out again to turn out the lights.
I wake to the feel of an erection pressed against my thigh. Obi
Wan is still in my arms. I squeeze him, again, before opening
my eyes. It isn't yet morning. Dawn is still four hours away.
A mouth closes over my ear lobe. I am instantly hard. "Obi
Wan." The words I had intended as a warning come out as a plea.
With a quiet chuckle he releases my ear. A hand is stroking
across my chest, firmer than before.
"There is still so much more I want to do, Master," he
whispers.
"Such as?" I ask, my own voice barely audible.
"I want you to take me. Slow and gentle, hard and fast, I don't
care. I just want to feel you inside of me."
"Obi Wan..." I begin.
"Don't tell me you don't want to. I know you do."
"Yes. But don't you think you're putting a lot of firsts into
one night?"
"Maybe. But I still want you." My resistance wavers, but it
isn't entirely gone. As much as I want him, I don't want to
move too rapidly. An unpleasant first experience with anal sex
can easily turn into an only experience. "I was dreaming about
you. Do you want to know what I was dreaming?" he continues.
I'm lost and I know it. "Yes."
"I was on my hands and knees. In this bed. You were kneeling
behind me. You pushed forward, sliding your cock into me. I
called out. You had my hips in your hands and you pulled me
back onto your cock. When you were all of the way inside me,
you began to fuck me. You were slow at first, but you were
thrusting hard. After a few strokes you began to move faster,
and then faster. You were moaning, saying my name, telling me
you loved me, that I felt good, that I excited you. I let you
take me. I gave myself over to you, let you pleasure us both."
My resistance crumbled. I rolled over, pinning him beneath me.
I took his mouth in a searing kiss. I ground my hard cock
against him. He moaned into my mouth, thrusting back.
Our kisses grew more frantic, our movements more desperate. I'd
never been driven to such a feverish level of arousal so
quickly before.
Gasping, shaken, I pulled away. He reached for me. I resisted.
"I want it to be good for you, Obi Wan. The first time needs to
be slow and careful."
"I understand." His hand is touching my face. I cover it with
my own. I kiss his palm.
Rising, I go to my closet and remove a tube of lubricant. Then
I head to the bathroom for a towel.
My breath catches as I see him lying on my bed, waiting for me.
He's almost unbearably desirable. I kneel next to him. "Are you
sure about this?"
"Yes. I love you."
"And love is connected to anal sex how?"
"It's connected because it makes me want you in every way
possible."
I run one of my hands slowly over him. He inhales shakily. "Qui
Gon."
"Hmmm?" My attention is on the smooth glide of his skin under
my hand.
"Touch me lower." I encircle his cock. "Lower." I cup his
testicles in my hand. "Lower." I press my fingers against his
perineum. "Lower." I remove my hand and open the tube. I
squeeze it, covering my fingertips with thick gel. I apply it
to his opening, circling slowly and pressing gradually into
him.
His muscles tighten around my finger, drawing it further into
him. He's tight. Part of me imagines that tightness surrounding
my cock. The other part worries this won't be possible without
hurting him. I pull my finger back. Push it slowly forward. I
repeat the movement, going slightly deeper each time. Soon my
finger is all of the way inside him. I brush his prostate and
he cries out. I repeat the action, knowing flashes of pleasure
are going through him as a result.
I withdraw the finger and apply more lubricant. I push inside
him again, turning my hand to coat him as thoroughly as I can.
I do it again, applying still more. I withdraw my finger a
third time and he groans. I send reassurance along our bond. I
use two fingers this time. There is some resistance and I stop.
He pushes backwards, forcing my fingers all of the way inside
him. I turn them slowly. I stroke him gently. He trembles a
little when I again caress his prostate.
"Please, Qui Gon." His voice is filled with lust.
I withdraw my fingers for the last time and coat my cock with
the lubricant. I'm dripping with it when I finally begin to
press myself into him. I feel him tense slightly and I stop. I
sense him struggle to relax. When the muscles surrounding me
ease, I resume pushing forward. Once the head is inside, I
stop. Obi Wan is breathing hard. His hands are tightening
convulsively on the sheets.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No," he gasps. Hoping to divert some of his attention from the
pressure created by my cock, I reach around and take his
erection in my slick hand. I stroke slowly. He shudders. I
continue stroking. I feel him relax further. His body draws me
in. Unable to stop myself, I begin to press forward. He opens
for me. His insides clutch me.
I pull back. I push forward slowly. Again and again. Slightly
further each time. I stroke his cock in time with my movements.
My hand glides easily over the hard flesh.
He is moaning. I love the sound. Obi Wan feeling pleasure. I
had often dreamt of how he would sound. Now I know.
I am fully inside of him. I stop. I'm trembling with the
intensity of the emotions within me. The tenderness I feel for
him in that moment is beyond anything I can ever remember
feeling. He is my Obi Wan. My padawan. My love. I slow my
movements even more. I try to caress him with my cock, to
gently stroke his insides, to touch him in ways that will bring
as much pleasure to him as I can manage.
He clings to my cock as I stroke. Every millimeter of my cock
is touched by him. He surrounds me, engulfs me.
"Obi Wan," I moan. "Obi Wan."
"Qui Gon," he answers.
"So good."
"Yes, good." He is moving with me now, increasing the pace. We
are both on the verge. He pushes back against me and I let him
take me over the edge. He comes with me. His come is hot on my
hand.
I rest my head against his back, inhaling deeply and a bit
shakily. I had known I loved him, but the depth of it...
"Qui Gon?"
I kiss his back. Withdrawing from him gently, I move to take
him into my arms, fervently hoping that he will never leave
them.
I was breathing hard when I opened my eyes. That trip back in
time had done nothing but give me an achingly hard cock. It
hadn't solved my present dilemma. I thought back to the image
of Obi Wan dropping to his knees in front of me. He had been
willing to risk rejection, to risk the humiliation of exposing
his heart only to be refused. How could I be any less brave?
I rose and went to his quarters. Standing outside of the door,
I suddenly hesitated. I started to pace. Realizing what I was
doing, I stopped and knocked softly on his door.
"Come in, Master."
The door slid open to reveal Obi Wan seated on the floor, legs
crossed. I dropped to my knees in front of him.
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