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Archive: M/A

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Q/O

Category: pwp

Warnings: unauthorized use of fabric softener.

Feedback: please?

Disclaimers: don't own them, pointless to sue me.

Notes: Rose, thank you so much for your time and your patience.

"You know, Master, it's actually true what people say. There's no place like home."

"I completely and wholeheartedly agree with you, Padawan."

Two weeks in a swamp had pushed Master and Padawan to their limits of patience and will to live. Dagobah was a dry and nice place compared to the hellhole they just had visited. After only a couple of hours, the first spots of mould had shown up.

The second morning Obi-Wan had been startled awake by the strange, croaking noises his Master made. The question: "What's wrong?" had resulted in a shouted: "Gaah, I have mould in my hair! Where's the scissors?"

It had taken almost until midday before Qui-Gon calmed down. He could stand much but being overgrown with mould was not on that list. Now, two utterly horrible weeks later, they both shimmered in an interesting greenish-lilac tone. It covered everything, inside and out.

"Well, we made it home at last." Qui-Gon dumped his pack on the floor and moved to the couch.

"Don't sit down! The ick will spread and grow into the furniture!" Qui-Gon reeled a little when his shouting Padawan flung himself onto his back "Fresher, go to the fresher," Obi-Wan ordered still attached to Qui- Gon's back, "If I don't get to shower now I will hurt someone."

"Do you think the Laundromat is open now?"

"Why? Can't we just burn the clothes and get new ones?"

"Love, first we do what we can to clean them. If we fail, we can have a ritual burning and drink ourselves off our feet, celebrating that we're dry and mould free. Good enough?"

"That'll do, Master. Where's the scrubbing-brush?"

45 minutes later, two newly scrubbed, red flushed gentlemen in worn sweatpants only, entered the Laundromat. As it was very late, or rather very early, the place was empty. Pulling on a pair of leather gloves, Obi-Wan started to load the washing machines.

"Those are my best gloves, you know," Qui-Gon grumbled at Obi-Wan.

"Sorry about this, but I don't want this mess to bite me in the hands."

Qui-Gon leaned back against the wall, watching his Padawan bending over to pick up more icky clothes. The view was very tempting. The tightening in his groin reminded him of how long it had been since they last touched each other. It hadn't been worth it to dig through layers of slime to get to the lovely body Obi-wan possessed. Some things were just… no. But now, with Obi-Wan clean, scantily clad and nicely bending over the washer, the situation was different.

When Obi-Wan closed the last lid and started to pour fabric softener, his Master was right behind him. The firm grip on his hips and the hard cock that pushed at his ass made him drop the bottle and spill it all over himself.

"What are you doing?"

"Sshh, lean forward a little. I've missed you so much," Qui-Gon said as he yanked both his own and Obi-Wan's pants down. He slipped his cock between Obi-Wan's thighs and reached around to grab the rapidly hardening flesh there. He used some of the fabric softener that trickled down Obi-Wan's stomach to slick his hand.

"Oh, come on. You are making a mess here," Obi-Wan tried to protest when Qui-Gon started to pump his hips and his hand in a rhythm.

"Yes, this is a nice mess here. It's going get worse, too," Qui-Gon whispered in his ear before biting down on his neck to keep him still.

The fabric softener spread down Obi-Wan's thighs and groin, making everything slippery. He squeezed his thighs together to give Qui-Gon more friction and was rewarded with a thick groan. The hand on his cock tightened and picked up pace. Obi-Wan's body tingled. It had been too bloody long since the last time.

A screeching, rumbling noise to the left ripped them back to reality. One of the washing machines had gone unstable and was definitely moving off its spot. Qui-Gon let go of Obi-Wan and flung himself on top of the stampeding machine.

"Obi-Wan, help me, turn it off, do something."

Obi-Wan looked down on his slippery gloves and equally slippery, purple, on-the-verge-of- bursting, cock. "Oh, I'll help you, Master," he said with an evil grin, "just stay were you are."

"What?" Qui-Gon tried to turn around but was pushed back onto the machine.

"Sshh, I've missed you too. And I don't like to be interrupted like this."

He rubbed the slimy leather glove down Qui-Gon's cleft. The startled moan made him grin even wider.

"This is not.. oh.. the right…. time," Qui-Gon ground out, desperately trying to keep the machine still. He was shaking in time with it, and all Obi-Wan had to do was to hold his fingers against Qui-Gon's opening and the vibrations made them slip inside. He slid them gently in and out; listening to Qui-Gon's groans and wondering what it felt like to have the rough leather rub inside like that. The thought almost did it for him, so he spread more softener on his cock and tried to position himself. Moving in time with the shakes, he managed to thrust inside. Qui-Gon howled. Obi-Wan howled. The machine went into spin-dry mode.

"Hold on, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon shouted over the rumblings and Obi-Wan's moans. And hold on Obi-Wan did, planting his feet and plastering himself onto the sweaty back under him. It was like riding a bucking bantha.

Two weeks was definitely too long, Obi-Wan thought when the tightness around him clamped down even more. He pried a hand between Master and machine to get to Qui-Gon's weeping erection. The washer went into spin-dry overdrive.

All Qui-Gon could do was to hold on to the raving machine. His senses overloaded with Obi-Wan's cock inside him and the gooey glove on his own. He heard Obi-Wan shout something garbled and grow impossibly hard inside him. Obi-Wan managed to pull almost all the way out and slam back in again, hitting Qui-Gon's sweet spot right on. The hot gush that followed was enough to set Qui-Gon off, red flashes igniting behind his eyes. Their joined yells of passion reverberated through the room. The washing machine finally slowed down and stopped.

Obi-Wan's legs gave out and he slid to the floor pulling Qui-Gon with him.

"Master, I thought you didn't like slimy stuff."

"Well, there's slimy and slimy. With the right timing, slimy can be really good. And by all means, keep the gloves."

It sure was good to be home again.

Fini