Master
Apprentice  Archive
Clothes
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Archive: M-A, ask me, or Master Jacynthe's: http://jdemorae.slashcity.tv/lightsaberissues/index.html
Series: nope
Categories: Q/O, PWP, first time!
Feedback: Dying for it, please. padawanhilary@gonwan.com
Summary: The Emu's "Yet Another Official Bird Dialogue Challenge": "For Force' sake, Master, will you put some clothes on?" I just added water.
Spoilers/Warnings: None, I tell you, unless you're hydrophobic
Disclaimers: Someday I intend to use my own beloved, beautiful characters to write for fame, fortune and glory. Today is not that day.
/..../ thoughts and bond speak, *..* emphasis'
Notes: I just want to say for the record, I resisted the hell out of this bunny. I resisted the images of Qui-Gon therein. I resisted the clueless padawan ploy. And then I caved. One can resist only so much.
"Master," he called, "late meal is ready."
They were on this little planet to oversee a wedding. The ceremony itself had been the previous day, so the Jedi had been given leave to spend an idyllic day in whatever fashion they chose. Obi-Wan was annoyed that instead of helping his padawan with studies, or reviewing mission notes, Qui-Gon had chosen to spend the day-- the entire day-- at this blasted lake.
It wouldn't have been bad. It wasn't as if Obi-Wan didn't appreciate the value of free time; far from it. A day in the sun appealed to him greatly. But he'd had a lot of catching up to do in his academy work. They'd been off Coruscant far too much for him to justify lazing about. He had far too much work to do, and he'd hoped. . . well, he'd only hoped his master would spend the time with him.
He squashed the idea. Ridiculous. His master didn't need to sit around and make sure his silly, lustful, crush-beset padawan did his homework.
"Master!" He was growing impatient now. The beauty of the lake and the fact that he'd passed up a day in it was frustrating him. Obi-Wan's eyes hadn't adjusted to the terrible glare, so he couldn't see if his master was somewhere on shore or out further into the water. Who knew that Qui-Gon was such a damned fish?
Qui-Gon would have chuckled indulgently, had he been able to. As it was, he sat submerged in water. He'd been waiting by the lake all day for this. About mid-afternoon he'd begun to wish his padawan weren't so diligent in his studies. Then as soon as he'd heard his irritated padawan moving down toward the water, he'd ducked under, extending his senses to better hear when Obi-Wan was closest.
He'd been plotting this for weeks. Today, the opportunity had come to him. Now, he was going to take it. And a lot more, if he was lucky.
Obi-Wan's shouts were muffled in the water, but it seemed as though he was growing quite bothered, so Qui-Gon began to surface.
Smoothly, slowly, he broke the top of the water, brushing his long hair back from his face. Water ran off his neck, parting around muscles and ducking into the groove between his shoulder blades. The air was cool after the warmth of the water, but Qui-Gon didn't care. He ignored the gooseflesh that had broken out all over him and concentrated on seducing his padawan.
"Master?" Obi-Wan turned toward him, seeing only a silhouette of head, chest and torso. Obi-Wan choked out a laugh and turned his eyes away, flushing, knowing Qui-Gon was bare under all that water. "Master, have you been down there the whole time? I was starting to worry."
There was no answer, so Obi-Wan peeked.
Qui-Gon was out of the water to mid-thigh now, striding up the bank. The sun on the lake behind him made it nearly impossible to see-- nearly. Obi-Wan could make out the starkly outlined body, wet and graceful and sleek. He was struck dumb. His master had stopped walking and now simply stood in the ankle-deep water, the rest of him revealed and yet obscured against the shimmering, blinding backdrop.
Qui-Gon stretched deliberately, arching his back and reaching his hands for the sun. Then he casually began brushing excess water from his body. He wrung his hair out, then put his hand on his shoulder, sweeping droplets of moisture off of his skin in a long arc down to his fingertips. He repeated this on the other arm. He was well aware of Obi-Wan's avid stare as he placed both hands on his upper chest and made the same sweeping motion downward, not nearly as quickly as he'd done his arms.
Obi-Wan swallowed around a dry lump and turned away again. "For Force' sake, Master, will you put some clothes on?" he asked, his voice weak and unconvincing. He'd have thought that his master was doing this on purpose, except Qui-Gon wasn't exactly the sneaky seducer type.
"Why, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice almost lazy as he bent and swept his hands down his legs. Obi-Wan turned his eyes back toward his master, sucking in a breath as those large hands deftly pushed water from the skin-- but it wasn't what the hands were doing, it was where they were doing it. Obi-Wan watched the pattern of movement through the sparkling light, entranced: hips, flanks, thighs, knees. Then back up: buttocks, thighs, knees, calves.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, thinking madly of Hoth to bank down the erection he was growing. "Because you're naked."
Qui-Gon chuckled and began to move up the shore. "I've never known you to be so skittish about nudity before."
"And wet," Obi-Wan added, flailing about for reason. The hapless padawan opened his eyes again, unable to help himself. Nervous fire shot through him as he saw that Qui-Gon was slinking-- *slinking!*-- up shore toward him. Now, Obi-Wan could see better, and he swallowed again, quelling a roll of butterflies in his stomach, trying to register it all.
Qui-Gon sauntered toward him, all wet, leonine grace, hair dripping, skin still shining with water. His eyes were fixed on his padawan's, and there was a heat in them Obi-Wan had never seen before. More than that, Qui-Gon was hard, his shaft curving toward his flat stomach proudly.
/OhForceOhForceOhForce,/ Obi-Wan's mental voice chattered. /Let this be real. No-- it's real. Let it be what it looks like./
He half-turned away and shut his eyes, unable to help himself, just in case it *wasn't* what it looked like.
"I'm naked," Qui-Gon agreed, his voice low and rumbly, almost purring. "And wet."
Obi-Wan felt his master step close beside him, radiating heat as though he were on fire. Obi-Wan turned toward him, lips parted as though he would speak if only his voice hadn't panicked and disappeared into his stomach.
Obi-Wan shucked out of his cloak and held it up with one hand by the hood, taking a half-step back, his last remaining brain cell deciding with its last gram of intellect that Qui-Gon's intentions could still be misconstrued. He offered the robe to Qui-Gon, meeting his gaze nervously, wanting to say something generous and intelligent but managing only a squeak.
Qui-Gon smiled and took the cloak, watching carefully. Obi-Wan's expression fell visibly. /Ah, poor clueless padawan,/ Qui-Gon thought, and spread the brown robe out on the ground.
Obi-Wan's heart raced as Qui-Gon stepped up to him. The master gave the padawan no time to think, but quickly took his face in his hands and kissed him soundly.
Obi-Wan whimpered into the mouth sliding over his, absently putting his hands on Qui-Gon's broad, damp back. Leaving one hand cupping his padawan's face, Qui-Gon slid the other one down to Obi-Wan's hip and then around to the small of his back, pressing him close. Obi-Wan gasped into the kiss, amazed beyond reason to feel the hot erection pinned between them. His hands were suddenly tugging at Qui-Gon, pulling him close, scrambling over muscles. Then Qui-Gon was stepping back, drawing a calming breath.
"Uhm--" Obi-Wan protested, reaching for him, but Qui-Gon went to one knee, undoing boot buckles deftly.
Obi-Wan stared down dumbly, his last brain cell rapidly dissolving. His master knelt at his feet, unfastening his boots, back muscles rippling under skin that was just now beginning to dry. Even in his wildest, hottest fantasies, Obi-Wan could never have hoped for anything remotely reaching this.
Almost as an afterthought, he unclipped his utility belt and dropped it to the ground, then began removing his sash and tunics. /This is happening. This is real. This is my master at my feet. This is unbelievable. This is--/
His thoughts flash-burned under the stare that turned up to his. "Raise your foot," Qui-Gon commanded, and Obi-Wan did, putting one hand on his master's shoulder to keep from falling over. Qui-Gon tugged one boot off, then the other, then socks, and then he was kneeling up, untying the lace that fastened his padawan's leggings.
Mesmerized, Obi-Wan remained still as Qui-Gon tugged the cord and loosened the waistband, then tucked his fingers under smallclothes and trousers alike, yanking both down, then pulling them off Obi-Wan's feet.
Qui-Gon looked up at his apprentice again, who was staring at him like he was under Force-suggestion. His breathing was rapid, and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips.
"Good idea," Qui-Gon said conversationally, mimicking his padawan's tongue-swipe around his lips before engulfing the erection in front of his face.
Obi-Wan shouted and nearly fell over backwards, so Qui-Gon grabbed his wrists, guiding his padawan's hands into his hair before grasping the slim hips before him. The taste, the heat, were unbelievable, and he sank down over Obi-Wan's considerable length, lapping at the base with his tongue, before backing off to the head.
Obi-Wan was by now completely incoherent with pleasure. He hardly registered that he was using his master's head for balance; his entire consciousness was on that mouth. *That* mouth. On him. He closed his eyes and sank his attention into that hot, wet, deep suction that retreated, then advanced again with swirling, slick friction. Distantly, he heard ragged breathing and a rapidly rising "Ohhhh." He couldn't imagine where it was coming from; certainly everything *he* possessed was centered on the heat in and around his cock. Oh, but wait, something else was happening, too. It was spreading, that heat. It was *consuming* him. He snapped into himself just enough to keep from fisting his hands in that damp, silky hair before he came, the fire exploding in his belly and into Qui-Gon's mouth. Obi-Wan shouted hoarsely, biting his lip as his knees buckled under him. Qui-Gon caught him, swallowed one last time, then poured rather than lowered Obi-Wan onto the grass.
Obi-Wan lay there, panting, feeling the prickle of grass under him and warm skin beside him, the orgasm retreating to languid relaxation. Qui-Gon looked down at him, radiating smugness.
"Wha--?" was all the padawan could manage before he figured it was better not to bother with inanities like speech or thought. He closed his eyes and swallowed, then pulled Qui-Gon down to him for a lengthy kiss. He tasted himself and was amazed all over again. Releasing an inarticulate noise, he levered himself up and pressed Qui-Gon back, closer to but not on the cloak he'd spread on the ground. /Oh well,/ Obi-Wan thought, and left Qui-Gon's mouth in favor of his throat.
Qui-Gon stroked his padawan's hair, languishing in the sensation of that soft, skilled mouth over his skin. When Obi-Wan swirled his tongue around a nipple, Qui-Gon hissed in a breath; when the nipple was trapped between tongue and teeth, he groaned and shifted, tightening his hands in Obi-Wan's hair minutely. He found the small ponytail and stroked it distractedly.
"Good idea," Obi-Wan muttered against his skin, sliding a hand down Qui-Gon's torso to the badly neglected erection. He swept his thumb over the crown, making circles, loving the way his serene, cool, diplomatic master had gone suddenly animalistic and reasonless. Qui-Gon was thrusting into his hand, holding him, encouraging the biting kisses his padawan was bestowing on his chest.
"Mmm," Obi-Wan said, smiling and raising his head as Qui-Gon's movements and noises descended into mindless expressions of pleasure. He caught Qui-Gon's mouth in another kiss, swallowing a moan and then moving swiftly down his master's body to take the painfully hard cock into his mouth.
Qui-Gon dug his hands into the grass and let his pleasure spill out into a loud moan to keep from pushing his padawan's head down over him. Obi-Wan's tongue darted around the ridge of his head precisely once before his master came, pivoting his hips upward, reaching for more of that mouth. Obi-Wan obliged, pulling as much in as he could, laving the head and grasping the base with his hand as Qui-Gon twitched and pulsed in his mouth.
Obi-Wan's master relaxed into the grass with a groaned sigh, melting just as Obi-Wan had. Obi-Wan crawled up beside him, grinning, inordinately pleased with himself.
"We didn't quite hit the cloak," he complained happily.
"Mmm," Qui-Gon replied, looking up at his gorgeous young padawan who was beaming as sunnily as the water off the lake. He watched as Obi-Wan edged closer to the robe, scooting in the grass. Then he was on it, stretching out invitingly.
"We should use it," he suggested, then glanced away, still smiling, suddenly shy as he noticed Qui-Gon growing erect again.
Qui-Gon rolled over and rose to his hands and knees and prowled over to his padawan, who had that glazed stare again, as if hypnotized. "We should?" he questioned.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Because-- we're naked."
Qui-Gon pounced, covering his padawan's body with his. "And
dry," he added.
End.