Fates – Watch!

by Leandra

Disclaimer: The fiend in flannel owns Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. Ben and Quiggs, Seda and Dun, Master Titulus, Lieth and of course Squicky belong to Raina and me.

Category: Q/O, AU, PWP

Rating: NC-17

Archive: yes please, m_a, nutters inc (nowhere else)

Feedback: nuttersincorporated@hotmail.com

Note: This story is part of a series. To understand it you might want to read (in the following order:)

Fates - Clotho
Fates – A Fading State of Innocence
Fates – A Loss of Innocence
Fates – How Squicky Can It Get?
Fates – The Seduction of Padawan Jinn
Fates – Come what may
Fates – Fever
Fates – Watch!

The timeline can be found here:

www.angelfire.com/theforce/nuttersinc/fates_timeline.html

Thanks to: Tem-ve, my beta reader and my Padawan Lorraine, who made my Ben!muse so horny, that he simply had to do something about it.

Note: This story is told from Quiggs' POV.

He told me to simply watch and that's what I'm doing. I watch. I suppose I never did watch with such undivided attention before. He has made up some rules and he made it clear, that if I regard them, he would continue doing what he is doing right now. And I'm really not going to break those rules, because I like what he is doing. To himself. To me.

So I just watch, sitting almost on the edge of my seat, 2 meters away from him. He sits on a stool in front of me and regards me with a half-lidded gaze that's a promise in itself. My eyes roam appreciatively over his form and I watch his hands leisurely undoing buttons. He takes his time, his eyes never leaving mine, one button, two buttons, three, revealing smooth pale skin with every flick of his fingers. My breath hitches and I feel a lump in my throat when he slowly pushes the fabric off, letting it glide from his freckled shoulders. The discarded clothing drops to the floor, unnoticed. My eyes follow the journey of his hands. Slowly, almost hesitantly he trails them down his chest, skims them over his stomach until he reaches his waistband.

A smug grin appears on his face as he notices me swallowing and wetting my lips. My mouth is terribly dry and I feel my fingers twitch with the need to reach out for him, to feel his warm smoothness under my touch. A glint of mischief in his eyes, and instead of the promise of his hands inside his pants, he trails them upwards again, away from where they so surely belong, torturing me with the sight of his elegant fingers raking softly over his abdomen. A disappointed groan escapes me, and for a short moment a smile curves his lips. By now my gaze must burn his sensitive skin. His right hand rests on his lower abdomen, applying firm pressure, his other hand slides sensually upwards until his fingers find the pale rosy bud. Nails softly rake the area and he trembles slightly, hard muscles rippling under smooth skin. His head lolls back and he closes his eyes, indicating how much he enjoys this.

The pulse on his exposed throat throbs sympathetically in sync with my growing arousal, as if his heartbeat and my need are connected through a secret bond. His fingers twist a nipple leisurely and he hisses, then his eyes open slowly and he stares at me, eyes a stormy green. I shiver under his intense gaze, a tingle runs through every limb of my body. I'm painfully hard by now, and he isn't even naked yet, but the sight of him, displaying himself so wantonly before me, looking so sensual and devourable simply undoes me. I can't think of anything but him now, my entire being is focused on him, on his fingers that have now started to tease and tug on his nipple.

"More?" he asks suddenly and his voice is a low purr, husky, promising. Words fail me and I simply nod. Yes. Yes. Show me more. I tremble again and lick my lip. Show me, all of it. He bites his lip and trails his hand downwards again, down over the taut planes of his stomach and he doesn't stop now, he slides his fingertips past the barrier of his leggings and a soft cry flies from his parted lips when he curls his palm around his erection. I can only imagine that, can only imagine the sight of his hands stroking his cock. I focus on how the muscles work in his arm while he strokes himself and strangely the sight of those muscles twitching is more erotic than anything I've ever seen. The expression on his face should be illegal I think, while I study the focused look on his face, how his eyelids flutter, how thick his too fair lashes are, how his teeth worry at his bottom lip.

I try to ignore my own hardness pressing against the fabric of my trousers. I will have time to take care of it later. Suddenly his eyes open again, fixing on me. I have no idea how I look, flustered maybe, he simply looks gorgeous. His mouth is partially open and he breathes shallowly, the tip of his tongue flickering out to wet his lips. The hand that isn't occupied with stroking his hardness caresses his chest and I would really, really give it the attention it deserved if he hadn't just pulled down his waistband and freed his erection to my hungry eyes. A gasp from me, and there is this smugness in his eyes again, but it is overshadowed by pleasure immediately and he won't stop staring at me and I, I can't stop staring at his hand, moving agonisingly and ever so slowly up and down. Oh yes, he is taking his time as well and he is determined to make me suffer, moaning softly now, moans that I can feel running like tiny tremors over my skin. My own panting breaths come in time with his shallow breathing and I don't know what still keeps me sitting here, don't know what keeps me from crossing the space between us.

A drop of pre-cum has built on the tip of his penis and he uses it to lubricate his strokes, smearing it over his length and I can't help but think what a waste this is and I remember his salty bitter taste and that is the moment I give up and the next moment I find myself kneeling in front of him and I knock his hand away. He is staring at me with wide eyes shining with undisguised lust and need, his chest is heaving and goosebumps form on the skin covering his sides. He doesn't reach for his erection again, but lets his arms fall to his side, waiting. A long shuddering moan when I drag my tongue over the underside of his length and I'm rewarded with his musky scent filling my nostrils and the taste of his pre-cum exploding on my taste buds. His body trembles, multiple trembles that run up his stomach, continue over his chest until they break free from his mouth in the forms of needy moans. He is encouraging me now with these moans, guttural, husky and oh so enticing. The moans form words, words I almost don't recognize.

"Quiggs…Qui-Gon…" My name. Repeated over and over, hidden in those little gasps and pants and needy noises. I take pity on him then and take him into my mouth and it doesn't really take one swipe of my tongue, or one soft scratch of my teeth and he shudders again, filling my mouth with his semen. I savour his taste, every drop and then he bonelessly drops from the chair right into my arms and I pull him close, my own hardness forgotten in the pleasure of seeing him like this.

He buries his face in the folds of my tunics and I stroke his back softly until the tremors in his body subside and his panting breaths slow down until his breathing comes even. I rest my chin on top of his head and close my eyes. Our own future is inevitably coming towards us. In moments like this, it doesn't exist. Not for me.

END