Master Apprentice Archive Vos Breakfast Quick search:

note: if I have succeeeded in infecting anyone with Vos-love, please check out http://community.livejournal.com/quinlanvos100

archive? YES!

Summary: Sequel to Ord Mantell Reunion. Quinlan Vos has two friends over for breakfast.

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Other Male Character, Qui-Gon Jinn

Genre: Character Study, Hurt Comfort, Pairings: Slash (m/m), Pairings: Threesome or more, PWP

Rating: X

This piece may contain explicit sex, violence or other heavy content.

CONTENT and/or WARNINGS: Breathplay, Sex, Voyeurism

YOU have been warned about the content of this piece. It is YOUR RESPONSIBILITY not to view material containing subjects that upset you or that are illegal for you where you live.

If you believe the author/artist did not select an appropriate warning for this piece, please contact me.

Quinlan Vos was roused from sleep by an insistent banging on the hotel room door. Actually, it was merely a gentle, continuous knock; the Force presence that accompanied it was the penetrating part. Unmistakeable, as individual as a fingerprint, pressing gently downward into Quin's awareness. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He glanced over at the slumbering mountain range of Jedi on the other side of the bed. Obi had tracked Qui-Gon via their bond, right accross Ord Mantell, but hadn't roused his master, only him. Hmm. He supposed he'd better get the door.

Through the peephole, his age-mate padawan friend looked fresh and immaculate. He'd shaved so carefully that not a trace of whisker remained on the delicious deep clefts of his chin and upper lip. They were as smooth and creamy as the rest of him. The green eyes, aware of the scrutiny, looked directly at the peephole lens, and lifted a carry-rack full of covered cups. He'd brought caf.

For that, Quin would be willing to let in just about anyone. He flung open the door, his blocky white teeth shining in his dusky face. "Always welcome is a man bearing caf. How are you, Obi?"

Obi-Wan looked down briefly, and made haste to enter. Quin wasn't wearing anything but his skin. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but the sooner they shut the door, the better. Quin pulled out one of the cups immediately, and shaking his inky locks out of the way, lifted the lid and sniffed. "Ah, you remembered how I like it."

Once they were seated on the upholstered chairs in the main area, and both were sipping, he spoke again. "Obi, you didn't answer my question.."

"So sorry, Master Vos," said Obi-Wan, with a twitch of a smile. "I'm better. Not puking my guts out or worse, and ready to apologize."

"Not to me, surely." Obi just looked at him.

Quin thought about it. No, there was no reason for him to be offended by Obi. And he hadn't tracked his master accross Ord Mantell to confront whoever the lover was. It had to do with--

"I'm not jealous anymore, Quin."

Quin smiled at him. "And you're not puking your guts out anymore, either. You're drinking caf and it's staying down. So you came over to see friends about breakfast."

Relief at his understanding filled Obi's face. "Yeah. I wanted you to know that, too, Quin. We're still friends, right?"

Rather than answer, Quin stood up, smiling out of the shadows created by his night-dark hair. The yellow clan tattoos gleamed against the brick brown of his skin-- upper arms, cheekbones, wrists, abdomen-- as he walked magnificently, without undue haste, the few steps between them. And knelt down, face to face with his friend.

One reddish hand snaked around to twine into the auburn hairs at the back of Obi's neck, eliciting a shiver, as their faces drew closer. "Still friends," breathed young Master Vos, and kissed him.

Though they'd fooled around before, as youths, neither of them had ever expressed true affection, like unto this kiss. The Kiffar's caf- flavored tongue was savoring every curve and crevice of a mouth that he'd always dismissed as "cute" in the past. Obi had a true love. He wasn't a flirty kid any longer. And neither was Quin. And what he could do for the master, he was more than willing to do for his friend, the padawan.

For his part, Obi-Wan was being very appreciative. Hungry, was a better way to put it. He was sucking at Quin's tongue, licking it with his own, as well as the lips pressed against his. His hands stroked at Quin's stubbly cheeks, then pulled away that fierce face to speak.

"Dammit, I had to listen to you two over our bond all last night, and I couldn't do a thing about it! What I have put poor Qui-Gon through in the past, and never even thought about that, either! Oh, Quin, he's got to forgive me!"

Obi was reveling in the balm of approval pouring from the delicious man holding him in his arms. And before that man could answer, Obi kissed him in return, drank more of him. He was here for this, after all.

This was breakfast with Quinlan Vos. The first course was mouths, and one another's heated exhalations. Obi-Wan was feeling tremendously over-dressed all of a sudden, so he let Quin unwrap him.

Belt and tunics unfastened and pushed aside, the next offering would be the fragrant neck and shoulders of Obi-Wan. Quin fell to, texturizing the creamy skin with his licks and nips, letting Obi knead at his back and shoulders, to express his joy at his own deliciousness. He loved to give an audience what they wanted. And wanted he was. Quin was beginning to butt himself against the still clothed, parted legs of his feast. And his victim was starting to gasp at his intensity, into the forest of dark hair around his ear.

At last, temporarily sated, Quinlan paused to view the effects of his mouth upon those shoulders. Yes, they were scored with tooth patterns and hickeys, shining with his saliva, almost as brightly as Obi's limpid eyes. He ran a finger over the amazing topography of those parted, panting lips. Obi reached out with his tongue, to lick at that ultra-sensitive fingertip, suck it with unbearable enthusiasm. Quin groaned, and crushed him to his chest.

Then he gently lowered his precious feast to the carpeted floor. He knelt over the other man, removing his boots and pants, as his subdued prey tracked every bob and wave of his erect cock as he worked. He arranged the now naked Obi to his satisfaction, basking in the reclining man's hungry staring at what he was about to offer.

He let his hand trace down from knee to thigh to balls, just to see them twitch. Yes, that man-fruit looked like a good next course. A few slow circles trailed over that creamy, taut stomach made his intended target writhe and wobble in the air.

He knelt, one knee to either side of that well-scrubbed, shining face, looking past his own prick, so ready to be licked and appreciated, at the view. He arrowed it down to its destination, rubbing one palm against the rosy nipple he had spotted in the chest hairs below. His gaze locked upon the pinnacle of hot flesh ahead of him, which he was reverently approaching.

All at once he was engulfed in a maelstrom of heat and suction, as Obi-Wan's arms pulled him down by the buttocks into himself. He fell onto his outstretched hands with a moan, predator suddenly become prey. His abdominal muscles pulsed with the intensity of the sensation. Prickling signals of lust traveled down his legs. Force, Obi was good.

At last he could focus enough to open his eyes again to the goal before him, which was wagging back and forth with Obi's enthusiasm. Predatory instinct re-emerged; like a snapping reptile he tracked it, and pounced upon the red knob of it, and began to enjoy. It was every bit as good as he remembered.

Eventually, he worked nose to balls, inhaling the essence of Obi- Wan. As he snorted and lapped, small cries began to percolate around the hot wetness engulfing the other end of him, which sent pleasing vibrations all through Quin. His response? He grabbed double handfuls of Obi's creamy ass and guzzled. The two of them began to roll around and buck, adding dizzying dimensions of sensation to the mix.

Just as Quin thought he could stand no more, and would surely let Obi-Wan have it all, he heard a voice--

"Started without me?"

The young men paused. Quin propped himself up on one elbow and grinned. "Breakfast," he explained, or perhaps merely announced, dark eyes unrepentant beneath his sooty brows.

Master Qui-Gon Jinn had actually put on a sleep robe before coming out to investigate, but he hadn't bothered to close it. A tantalizing strip of the splendid man within it was revealed, upholstered with a trail of brown and grey hairs leading downward. In the shadows below loomed the man's huge organ, partly erect.

All remained still as the master took in the scene before him, his huge chest inflating and deflating deeply the only motion in the room for the moment. Obi-Wan was looking up at his master from between another man's thighs, but his eyes were all for Qui-gon. The depth of his love shone there, at the service and direction of his master's wisdom. If Qui were to tell him to stop what he was doing, to stand on his head, or slit his own throat, he would do it.

At last the older man spoke. "I believe I have seen this somewhere before." He stepped closer, letting the robe drop to the floor behind him unnoticed. "Yes, it was on Ragoon VI." He dropped to his knees near his padawan, who was now flushing a becoming peach.

"Do you know, I was tempted, then, to do something." He began to stroke Obi's short hair, like a benediction. He placed a gentle kiss on his beloved's brow, an appreciative stroke down the thigh cradling his beloved's head, then moved away. His large left hand began to stroke gently at the part of Obi-Wan that Quin had so recently abandoned. His great organ was now fully erect, and his blue eyes locked upon those of Quinlan Vos, so near to that target. Fires burned there. Quin's nostrils were flaring, evidence of his hunger.

Kneeling, Qui-Gon bent over that upturned face, gathered up a handful of the dark locks. Quin's upper body was coiled upon his arms, like a beast about to spring. But he stayed still, submitting to direction. The root of Qui-Gon approached him, the woody, musky aroma of Qui-Gon. He spoke again, musing.

"I believe I will do it--" and he pulled Quin's mouth to his jutting groin-- "now."

Quin's mouth took him in, letting him thrust along the channel of his tongue, as he simultaneously clamped his big hand around Obi's wet, protruding shaft. All three men moaned and groaned at the rightness of it.

Quickly Obi-Wan began to express his feelings about the situation, upon the canvas of Quinlan's buttocks and balls. Quin began to raise and lower himself via his knees, as his head and mouth were used by Qui-Gon, varying the oral torture upon his lower regions. He abandoned himself to the joy of gulping at the length of flesh banging against the back of his throat. He felt Obi's tongue teasing at his bobbing glans, then sucking it deep into wet, lapping warmth again. Obi's fingernails dug into his ass, probably drawing blood, pulling him ever deeper. He couldn't take this much longer.

Qui-Gon had his hand tight his beloved's sweet-as-honey shaft, possessively squeezing. He wanted to delay things here, and while Quin's rough tongue and talented throat were pleasant, it was not what he was craving. His other hand left the Kiffar's hair and began to tantalize the private places between his padawan's legs. The hips of Obi-Wan began to writhe, at the pleasure he caused.

And now to put his plan into action. One hand returned to Quin's hair, pulling him away from his feeding frenzy, and transferring the voracious red mouth to the rosy-headed shaft of Obi-wan. Himself, well-wetted now, he positioned at Obi's entrance, and thrust.

Those creamy hips were wagging in all directions from the stimulus, so he had to grab them and steady them to penetrate fully. The muscles of his padawan's interior were equally tumultuous around him- - and the feel of Quinlan's hair upon his belly was so exotic-- he began to slam wildly, his fingers digging into the creamy flesh engulfing him, his thumbs brushed by inky blackness, a plain of brick-brown flesh stretching away toward the hands of his beloved, clawing at the faraway hills of Quinlan--

Obi-Wan was the first to climax. Qui-Gon felt it in his mind as well as his cock, waves of pressure and pleasure reminding him of a sunrise over an ocean. He tried to stay quiet within that bliss, delaying his own release, as he heard Quin gulping and snorting somewhere below. At last Obi's rhythmic shivers stilled into a pleasant contentment. The dark face of Quinlan Vos began to rise, his arms trembling with the effort of resisting his own arousal.

Qui-Gon reached down to run a hand over that stubble, wet with perspiration and lust. He wanted to taste this, had envied them this for years. So he bent his lips to those moist red ones, to savor the melange of Obi and Quin in that cave of wonder. At his approach Quin trembled-- and came into Obi-Wan.

Once again, Qui-Gon was forced to still a bucking, writhing target with his hands, as he captured Quin's face and ravaged those lips. Ruthlessly he plunged into them, seeking that flavor-- and found it. It was incomparable.

The flavor of the two young men combined caused him to shiver with its potent sweetness. And the shivering grew, until he was once again thrusting wildly into Obi-Wan. It dissolved him-- he was lost in some dimension of bliss hitherto unknown.

He came back to himself at last. His hands were still tangled in Quin's hair. The young Kiffar's dazed eyes were inches away. He noticed that he was kneeling between Obi-Wan's legs; that meant Obi- Wan was here somewhere. He let Quin loose, and looked around.

Oh, yes, there, down on the carpet was that beloved face, languidly smiling, arms crossed behind his head. Obi licked his lips, inviting him closer. Yes, what a good idea. He lay on his stomach, approached those lips, enjoyed again the wonderful combination of the two young men, in an entirely different recipe. Obi's arms twined around his neck, swirling the fine hairs at his nape in the way only he could do. He sighed in contentment.

Then he felt a warm weight and pressure from above. Quinlan Vos had decided to use him as a mattress. It was a subtle reminder of new things tried last night, and enjoyed.

Wooly locks tickled at his ear as he turned his head to look Quinlan in the eye. The dark eye, the yellow tattooed stripe, and the dark brow were only inches away.

Their host spoke. "Is anyone still hungry?"

Qui-Gon thought about it. "Why, yes."

Obi and Quin exchanged a look. Obi chuckled.

"I'm sure we can cook up something."