Master Apprentice Archive A Touch of Lace Quick search:

Summary: There just isn't enough attention paid in this fandom to Qui-Gon's legs. Answer to the 800 word keeper's challenge. (Q/O). Rated R.
/snort/ 800 words, my Padawan's ass.
Q/O, First Time, PWP, Kink. No spoilers.

Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. I am the keeper of the black lace stockings, though I must thank Tanya for helping me put the Master in them.

Dr Squidlove, keeper of Qui-Gon's black lace stockings.

Obi-Wan suppressed a wry smile as he adjusted his grip on his slumping master. Even with a hand from the Force, walking the rather fluid form of a half-asleep Qui-Gon to their quarters was a trial, made all the more difficult by the concentration required to probe the surrounding corridors. Qui-Gon sighed, pressing a little more weight on Obi-Wan's shoulders, rubbing his eyes like a child.

Their bond had grown cloudy as Obi-Wan was studying. He'd let it go for a while, thinking Qui-Gon could use a little relaxation at the Jedi Master's gathering, but eventually sent a light touch out to check how he was faring - and found his Master smoked to the gills. Apparently, Qui-Gon's body wasn't as smoke tolerant as it used to be, and so Obi-Wan was left with the task of removing his Master from the corner in which he'd collapsed, and spiriting him back to privacy.

He pushed him through the door of their quarters, spinning Qui-Gon out of his cloak and catching his belt with a nudge of Force, before tumbling him onto his back on the bed. Qui-Gon blinked at him with something that might have been surprise, if he'd been a little more alert, and then closed his eyes and began to snore.

Obi-Wan allowed himself an affectionate grin as he removed his own cloak and hung it neatly by the door. Qui-Gon was going to be mortified when he woke, and it would be little comfort that Obi-Wan had managed to get him back here without stumbling past any of the knights who considered Qui-Gon a paragon of Jedi stoicism.

He pushed Qui-Gon to the centre of the bed, and unbuckled his boots. With a knee on the mattress for leverage, he pulled off the right boot. And stared. Gossamer-fine black silk stretched over Qui-Gon's leg.

Obi-Wan scrambled for the second boot, yanking it away to find more of the same.

For a long moment, Obi-Wan just stared at his Master's stockinged feet. He'd never claimed to know his Master well, but he'd thought...

He traced a finger along the line of shin, feeling the sheen, and - Obi-Wan looked closer - Qui-Gon's hairless legs. It seemed he didn't know his Master at all.

A moment's hesitation and then Obi-Wan reached for Qui-Gon's sash. Wouldn't do to have him sleeping in all these clothes. The tunic peeled back to reveal only a familiar, bare chest, so Obi-Wan took a deep breath and loosened the trousers.

A band of black lace was slung low on Qui-Gon's hips. Obi-Wan leaned closer, examining the garter belt against Qui-Gon's pale tan. Hand crocheted, unless Obi-Wan missed his mark, and fine workmanship at that. Rather like the torso it held. He touched his tongue to his lips and grasped the waist of the trousers, pulling them down in a single movement.

Blood swirled around Obi-Wan's stomach and into his cock. The gentle shadings of black silk over sculpted muscles defined Qui-Gon's calves against the pale sheets, making them seem even longer. Soft lace to match the belt clung to Qui-Gon's thighs, intricate garters over an inch wide. The curve of his soft penis was almost an afterthought.

Almost.

Qui-Gon snuffled and rolled away from his silent observer, scissoring his legs to expose the line where patterned lace broke silk-clad leg from the vulnerable flesh of inner thigh. Obi-Wan's throat closed. He swallowed, and ran a hesitant finger up the black strap stretched taut over Qui-Gon's rump. He wasn't touching his Master, but oh, so, so close.

Qui-Gon mumbled and shifted, pressing into Obi-Wan's hand, and slept on.

With breath quickened, but bolder, he reached forward to trace the lace inside Qui-Gon's leg, where it met tender skin that twitched under his touch. He followed the straps with his gaze, over his Master's curved ass, to the belt and further, the warm tones of his broad back, the drift of loose hair and glazed eyes, watching him.

The gaze was blank, almost curious, nothing filtering out past the haze of drugs. Certainly nothing in the way of protest.

Carefully not considering his actions, Obi-Wan let his nails graze lightly over soft skin, forward, to slip a finger under the strap. Consequences didn't matter. Right now Qui-Gon's eyes were rolling shut in what might be pleasure, and that mattered very much. He let his finger slide up, under the strap, to the womanly softness inside his hip, watching for some sign of encouragement through the fog.

Qui-Gon gave it, his mouth hitching open, giving the curious gaze a strangely wanton feel. And then Qui-Gon's hand lifted, lazily, to prod a finger at his padawan's lips. Obi-Wan sucked.

Only for a moment. He put a hand to Qui-Gon's shoulder, pressing him onto his back, and straddled him. Qui-Gon waited, docile, as Obi-Wan lay clothed against his near-naked Master and kissed him, stealing a liberty with his lips and tongue.

Qui-Gon responded, slow at first, and awkward, but there was no mistaking the willingness. Hands settled loosely in Obi-Wan's hair, resting, rather than guiding, but Obi-Wan pulled them away and pressed them into the mattress as he stole deeper. Qui-Gon acquiesced.

Eventually, Obi-Wan pulled back, standing only long enough to yank his own clothes to the floor and climb atop again, pulling Qui-Gon's leg up with him, nodding his approval as the other leg hesitantly followed to wrap around his hips.

Warm, dormant flesh against his groin and silk over steel brushing his back. Obi-Wan reached down to rest a hand on Qui-Gon's heavy thigh, staring hard into his eyes as he caressed the fine grain of the stockings.

Qui-Gon licked his lips. "Lower."

He rasped his pleasure and let his head roll back as Obi-Wan's touch slid down, rubbing his balls, sweeping over the older Jedi's sleeping cock.

"Lower."

Obi-Wan squeezed, and let a finger tickle along the skin behind his sacs, dipping further until he found the tender hole. Qui-Gon arched and reached up to grasp the bottom of the headboard as Obi-Wan's finger circled.

"Where?"

Qui-Gon tipped his head to the left, still needing to reach through the fog for his words. "Under the mattress."

Obi-Wan reached over to retrieve the lubricant and returned his slickened fingers to work, loosening the drugged muscles easily. Qui-Gon shifted his legs, letting them slide over Obi-Wan's hips in invitation.

Obi-Wan removed his fingers and thrust inside.

Stay tuned for the sequel: A pair of heels.

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More Squidfic can be found at
The Lecherous Tentacles of Dr Squidlove
http://members.iinet.net.au/~tentacles/squidfic.html