Fevered Thoughts

by sidewinder (sidewinder72@yahoo.com)



Rating: R

Archive: m_a, my homepage

Category: a silly super-short thesis-avoiding PWP

Summary: Sequel to "Stranger Things..." Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discuss Qui-Gon's dream.

Notes: you can blame this one on the fact that I received so many nice comments on "Stranger Things...", much to my amazement. And very very little on "Close to the Edge", so I'm assuming y'all just want more silliness from me. Want to change my mind? Send me feedback, or else suffer the consequences ;-)



"Pregnant?! You dreamed you were pregnant?!"

"Yes, Padawan."

Obi-Wan gave his master a wide-eyed stare, then began to laugh. "Oh, Force protect us...protect us from your dreams, at least! I thought you said it wasn't a nightmare."

"It wasn't. It was rather odd, yes, but...not unpleasant."

"Are you certain you're feeling better, Master?" Obi-Wan teased, pressing his hand against Qui-Gon's forehead. "This must be the fever speaking."

"You are just looking for an excuse to keep me in bed for the rest of the day."

"Perhaps." Obi-Wan smiled, and kissed the place where his hand had been resting. His mouth then traveled down to Qui-Gon's nose, then wandered across his cheek before finding his lips. Qui-Gon knew he should be shooing Obi-Wan out of bed to go...practice some important Jedi thing or other.

Well, maybe in another hour or two. After all, Obi-Wan had shed all of his clothing while Qui-Gon had dozed off again, and it seemed like such a waste to ask him to put them back on so soon.

Obi-Wan finished sucking on his master's bottom lip and started to laugh again. "A baby of all things..."

"You said I was glowing."

"I said what?"

"When I was pregnant. You said I was glowing, and that it was quite sexy."

"Definitely the fever talking," Obi-Wan muttered, as his fingers slipped under Qui-Gon's nightshirt to trace intricate patterns across his chest.

"The idea of having children has no appeal to you?"

"Why, does it appeal to you?"

"I asked you first, Padawan."

A slightly annoyed sigh was Obi-Wan's answer, then he added, "I just have never given it any consideration. I'm too young to be thinking about children. And you?"

"From time to time. I suppose it's only natural for the thought to come to mind as a man grows older."

"Then remind me to never grow old," Obi-Wan said. He slipped the shirt over his master's head, and then straddled Qui-Gon's naked body. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and a small bottle of massage oil flew into his hand from across the room.

"Padawan..."

"Yes, Master?"

"I don't think this course of action is going to do anything to reduce my body temperature."

"Nonsense. A good sweat is what you need right now."

"Been studying the healing arts in your spare time?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

Qui-Gon drew in his breath sharply, as Obi-Wan took him inside his body in one swift movement. "Obi-Wan..."

"Yes, Master?"

"Oh...mmm...nevermind."

Yes, healing arts indeed.




"I told you, a good sweat and you're feeling better, aren't you?"

"Infinitely."

"No more silly dreams about babies and glowing and that sort of nonsense."

"No more. What would I do with a child, when I already have my hands full with you?"

Obi-Wan raised his head from his master's chest, looking mildly affronted. "Should I feel insulted right now, Master?"

"No, my padawan. Merely loved."

end