Grumpy Old Men

by MrsHamill (thamill@cox.net)

Archive: MA and my site, Mom's Kitchen (www.squidge.org/~foxsden)
Category: Oh, I dunno. Romance, humor, other
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Geezerfic. Nothing much happens, actually, just a look at two old guys arguing.
Disclaimer: What, you think I own these guys? Do I even look like George Lucas? If this is not what you expected, please alter your expectations. No such thing as random coincidence. No such thing as too much lubricant.
Warning: If liver spots turn you off, avoid this fic.
Series: Nah.
Notes: Gloriana said we need more Geezer!Fic in this fandom. *smiles innocently* She also told me to take out some of the 'old man's in there, which I did. Laura McEwan betaed for me, even though she was so overtired she was getting pretty stupid, and I'm intensely grateful! Any mistakes still here are all my fault, I guarantee.

For Qui-Gon Jinn's century day, his lifemate Obi-Wan Kenobi had thrown him one hell of a party. All the children (and the children's children) and the last of the Jedi from their generation had come to their retirement home on Alderaan, and though Qui-Gon had said he'd hated it, Obi-Wan had suspected he was secretly pleased.

Qui-Gon was so used to hiding his pleasure, however, he went a bit too far in the other direction. All that did was to firm Obi-Wan's resolve to never to give him another party. So for Qui-Gon's one-hundred-first naming day, there were no streamers, ribbons, balloons or other signs of festivity -- just the two of them in their pleasant and thankfully remote home, squabbling as usual over what to eat for dinner.

There were several holos sent, and during the day nearly everyone dear to them had checked in, wished him a happy nameday and chatted for a few moments before Qui-Gon grumpily complained about their waste of credit on a live transmission. Some of the littlest ones -- the children's children's children, something which made Obi-Wan feel very old -- sent hand-made presents, and about those, Qui-Gon was curiously silent.

As Qui-Gon had grown older, his grumpiness factor had increased, and when he was forced to retire, it went off the scale. The serenity he had worn for so many years had gradually eroded to the extent that, to Obi-Wan, it sometimes seemed Qui-Gon was turning into Yoda, something best not mentioned. Obi-Wan had his grumpy moments as well, though (like Qui-Gon), he would deny them to his final breath.

The whole day, from the moment they rose (as usual, far too early in the morning, but neither could continue to sleep) until dinner time, Qui-Gon kept shooting Obi-Wan little suspicious glances, as if wondering whether an entire party might pop out from behind the woodwork any moment. When nothing happened other than the comm calls, Qui-Gon began to frown and become snippy.

Obi-Wan just nodded to himself and smiled. The old fraud was utterly transparent.

Waking from their late afternoon meditation and nap, Obi-Wan stood and stretched carefully. His shoulder was aching again, which must mean rain was on the way. That was good -- he was tired of having to turn on the sprinkler system in the garden. Thinking of the garden, he realized there must be a few vegetables ripe by now -- there had been a savva which had looked just about ready to pick yesterday when he had watered.

Sure enough, the sky was leaden with the promise of rain. He strolled out to the raised vegetable beds and hunted for the intense red of a savva and found, to his delight, two of them perfectly ripened.

"What are you going to do with those?" Qui-Gon stood, arms akimbo, in the doorway. He hadn't bothered to straighten his hair after waking and the sparse, white stuff stood about his head like a cloud.

A fat raindrop smacked Obi-Wan on the top of his own white-haired head and he glanced up. "I thought we might have them with dinner. I'll slice them and fry them with the doles left over from last week."

With a noise half a sigh and half a humph, Qui-Gon moved aside to let Obi-Wan re-enter their home. "I don't like savva."

"Yes, you do," Obi-Wan contradicted him mildly, knowing that showing his testiness to Qui-Gon's statement would do no good. He went to their lavish kitchen and put the vegetables on the counter, reaching for the cutting board.

"No, I don't." Qui-Gon sounded querulous, which usually meant he was either overly tired or constipated again. This time, however, Obi-Wan suspected it was related to his nameday.

"Yes, you do. I sliced them for your salad just last week."

"Those were raw." Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan into the kitchen. His limp was pretty bad, Obi-Wan noticed, which was probably a result of the rain. Perhaps a front was coming through? "I don't like them cooked. Especially not fried."

"Yes, you do. Don't worry, I've already sent out for your nameday dessert. It'll be here by the time we sit down to eat."

"I hope you didn't get the nawlo-flavored one. You know I don't like that."

"Yes, I know, I got the choco-flavored one." Obi-Wan had to smile -- either that, or throw something.

"Good." Qui-Gon leaned against the counter and rubbed at the scar from his fight with the Sith on Naboo. "I'm just glad you didn't subject me to another damn party."

"Yes, Qui-Gon." Ten or fifteen years ago, Qui-Gon's complaints might have pissed him off royally. But now, since Obi-Wan was pushing hard on his eightieth nameday, he felt he understood it a bit better -- getting old was rough, even on a Jedi. But Force, it was hard at times to put up with his lifemate.

"What are you smiling about?" The words came with a scowl, but the tone was far more curious than harsh.

"You."

"You're smiling at me?"

"Yes, actually." Finished slicing the fresh savva, Obi-Wan reached for one of the gleaming pans suspended over the kitchen sink, but stopped with a wince.

"Foolish old man." Qui-Gon reached over his head to take the sauce pan down. "I know your shoulder is bothering you. Just ask me to do it rather than hurting yourself -- I'm still taller than you are."

"You've shrunk over the years, love." He put the pan on a burner and opened the coldbox.

"So have you. So I'm still taller."

"Yes, dear." He knew how much it pissed off Qui-Gon to be addressed so, and had to turn away to hide his smile at Qui-Gon's glower.

The doles were still a beautiful, rich purple, save for a few which he discarded. He dumped the rest into the sink and turned the water on.

"What are you going to make with them?"

"Well, since it's your nameday, I'll give you a choice." He went to their pantry and took out a bottle of buttersub. "You can have nerf or you can have..." He paused, thinking. "I believe I still have some joafish frozen in the coldbox."

Qui-Gon shuddered theatrically. "Don't we have anything else? I'm so tired of nerf and unless joafish is very fresh, it's terrible."

"Sorry. You know we're both watching our cholesterol and lipids."

"Bah." Qui-Gon made a face and waved his hand in the air. "What difference does it make? We're both too old to care, too old for being healthy to stretch our lives significantly."

"Don't say that, don't even think it." Obi-Wan didn't turn from the counter, afraid he'd show too much on his face. "Fine. Sounds like nerf it is." Finished washing the doles, he dumped them into the pan with a squirt of buttersub. Once the heat was on to his satisfaction, he turned to his lifemate, who was still hovering. "Why don't you go check the dataset? I imagine there are more messages waiting there for you, and you need to keep off your leg."

"My leg is perfectly fine. And you're just trying to get me out of the kitchen."

"Guilty as charged." Actually, Obi-Wan was more trying to get him to sit and relax his knee. "If you're planning to stay in here and bother me, you can cut the nerf steaks into strips for the pan."

Qui-Gon made a disgusted noise. "If I must."

The kitchen was blessedly silent for a long time -- Qui-Gon sat at their table, Obi-Wan stayed at the cooker. By the time Obi-Wan was ready, Qui-Gon was finished. Obi-Wan had just opened his mouth to speak when the front door chimed.

Qui-Gon almost jumped in his seat and turned. "You..."

"Relax. It's the dessert being delivered. Let the housedroid get it." He picked up the cutting board, filled with nerf pieces, and carefully dropped them into the pan with the vegetables. "The only one who said he might come by is Luke, and he'd just land his fighter in the field out back."

"Luke said he might stop by?" Obi-Wan didn't miss the poorly hidden eagerness in those words.

"I doubt he will, though," Obi-Wan said. "It sounded like Leia and Han had a lot for him to do."

"Oh."

Obi-Wan chuckled. He glanced at Qui-Gon, who was still sitting at the table. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were planning on trading me in for a newer model."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Luke is as close to a grandson as I'll ever get. I'm not so old I can fool myself into thinking a baby would want me."

"I want you." Obi-Wan turned the burner off under the pan and lifted it to the side.

"You are just a dirty old man."

Obi-Wan turned fast enough to see the smirk on Qui-Gon's face, and he shook his head. "I'll always be younger than you, though."

"Then I don't need to trade you in on a newer model, do I?"

The housedroid entered the kitchen before Obi-Wan could respond, putting a small package on the counter. "Thank you, 4RE. Please set the table."

Their housedroid was silent, something which suited them. Having been around constant tinkerers like Anakin and Luke for years and years, a silent droid counted as a blessing. It efficiently set the table and served them, and Obi-Wan sat with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Qui-Gon gave him a sharp look from across the table.

"Nothing, nothing." Picking up his fork, Obi-Wan began to eat. "I'm just hungrier than I thought."

"No, that wasn't a hungry sigh." Qui-Gon took a sip of his water. "That was a 'I'm tired of all this' sigh if ever I heard one."

"Oh, stop it." Obi-Wan gave his lifemate a disgruntled look. "You never have figured out what I'm truly thinking in all the years we've been together -- don't try to tell me you're starting now."

Qui-Gon looked affronted. "I resent that, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I was your master for more than ten years and I --"

"Never had a clue what I was thinking, and don't you dare deny it." Obi-Wan stabbed a slice of savva and shoved it into his mouth. "If you had, we would have been sleeping together far sooner than we did."

"I knew you wanted me from the time you were sixteen." Qui-Gon also took a big bite of his vegetables and chewed, shoving his chin out almost rebelliously. "You had excellent taste and I had no business bedding my underage padawan."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "The same tired refrain... you need new material, old man."

"Look who's calling who old!"

The argument, the standard one shared generally at mealtimes, continued in a desultory fashion as they ate and drank. Neither had a huge appetite lately, which was normal for their ages, Obi-Wan knew, but it didn't keep him from worrying about how thin Qui-Gon was getting.

The rain began in earnest as they finished up. Obi-Wan could hear it drumming against the roof as he rose to clean up.

"Leave it for the housedroid," Qui-Gon said, as he always did.

"No, I prefer doing it myself," Obi-Wan replied, as he always had.

"If you leave it for 4RE, we can start on dessert sooner."

"You're still hungry?" Surprised, not a little pleased, Obi-Wan turned from the sink.

"I could eat a slice of my favorite dessert." Qui-Gon had a fatuously virtuous look on his face that made Obi-Wan roll his eyes.

"All right." Obi-Wan pointedly didn't say how pleased he was that Qui-Gon could still eat. He set the droid to its task and brought the box to the table, with clean plates and utensils. The box was designed to keep the concoction frozen even during transport, which meant it needed a very sharp knife to cut it. Obi-Wan always joked he should use his lightsaber on it, and Qui-Gon always threatened him with severe bodily harm if he did.

The dessert was almost too choco for Obi-Wan's taste; if he ate it too fast or ate too much, he'd get an almost immediate headache. But Qui-Gon loved it, and the look on his face as he let a piece melt in his mouth made Obi-Wan laugh.

They decided on only two small pieces, saving the rest of it for later. 4RE had their after-dinner tea ready. Normally, they would sit outside in the late afternoon sunshine to drink it, but the rain still drumming on the roof forced them to stay inside.

Their house had a large picture window overlooking the back -- the garden and the huge field of wildflowers they owned but never developed. On some days, when they were forced to stay inside, they would sit in the chairs which flanked each side of the window. Other days, they shared the small sofa was between the chairs. This evening, Qui-Gon sat on the sofa and patted the space next to him. "You haven't given me your present yet, Obi-Wan," he said, taking a sip of his tea and placing the cup on the small table before the sofa.

"Who says I bought you one?" Obi-Wan replied, shaking his head.

"I do," was his prompt reply. "You always get me something, just like I always get you something."

"After the fuss you made last year, I shouldn't think I would get you anything." He glared half-heartedly at Qui-Gon, who had the grace to look slightly abashed. "But you're right, I did get you something."

Before sitting, Obi-Wan went into their 'office' -- the third bedroom of their extensive, rambling house, one that was cluttered with broken machinery, stacks of out-of-date flimsiplast readouts, datasets and workbenches. He pulled a large box and a small box off the top shelf of one of the closets -- ignoring the twinge of protest in his shoulder -- and brought them both back to the sofa.

"I know you've been dying to know what's in this one since it got here," Obi-Wan said with a wry smile, putting the large package on Qui-Gon's lap.

Tossing his lifemate a grin, Qui-Gon snapped off the fastenings and opened the large box to find billows of off-white softness. He frowned, lifted a large section, rubbing it between thumb and finger and smiling in appreciation. "Sheets?" he finally asked, looking puzzled.

"Flannel. Nearly as soft as satin and a lot warmer. You remember those satin sheets you ripped to shreds?"

Qui-Gon blinked. "That I ripped to shreds? Just who was on the bottom at that time?"

"And had you not intended on fucking me through the mattress, they wouldn't have ripped." Before Qui-Gon could speak again, Obi-Wan added, "Keep looking."

Beneath the sheets was a large cylindrical object, running from corner to corner of the box. It took Qui-Gon a few moments to get it untangled and when he managed to do so, he froze for a long moment before gently lifting it away out.

"It's gimerwood, isn't it?" he whispered.

"Yes." Obi-Wan was pleased to see Qui-Gon blink several times as he ran his fingers up and down the cane made of the soft wood. The handle was carved to look like his lightsaber grip. "And don't give me any lip about not needing a cane."

"I don't," Qui-Gon murmured, though his heart was obviously not in the contradiction. "How...?"

"I have my ways." Obi-Wan smiled, pleased his gift had had the desired effect. He thought Qui-Gon would appreciate the memento of his grand-master, the being who had been more like his master than his master was.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said thickly.

"You're welcome. That's not all, you know." He passed over the smaller package.

"What is this, you don't throw me a damned party and instead you spend the same obscene amount of our credit on gifts?"

"Oh, just shut up and open the box, old man."

After another hrumph, Qui-Gon snapped the fastenings and opened it, then burst out laughing. "Obi-Wan!"

Feeling a silly grin grow on his face, Obi-Wan chuckled. "I saw them advertised on the net and just had to get them. The biggest bottle is choco-flavored."

Qui-Gon pulled the four large bottles of sexual lubricant out of the package, continuing to laugh. "This is bizarre -- all these flavors! I suppose it's a good thing it's edible..."

"Let's crack open the choco-flavored one and try it out. What do you say?" Obi-Wan winked at Qui-Gon.

"We've already had our Monthly Sex, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, only half facetiously. "Last week, wasn't it?"

"I think we can make an extra go at it, in honor of your nameday." Obi-Wan stood and offered his hand to his lifemate. "Besides, there's nothing else to do but drink our tea and watch the rain fall, is there?"

Instead of taking his hand, Qui-Gon picked up his new cane and used it to help lever himself out of the sofa. "The handle feels exactly like my lightsaber," he said with a small smile playing about his face. "It's amazing."

"I'm glad you like it, love." Obi-Wan picked up the smaller package and brought it with him to their bedroom. "We can have 4RE change the sheets tomorrow."

"That's assuming there's a reason for changing the sheets." He was still complaining, he would always complain, but Qui-Gon did follow him to the bedroom.

"I think we can pretty much guarantee that," Obi-Wan laughed.

"You say that now..."

Their bedroom was light and airy, with large clerestory windows over a huge bed, a bed that had been specially made for them. Obi-Wan often felt very close to the Force in the room, the place where they had meditated, slept, and made love for almost twenty years, since Qui-Gon had to retire from active service, hanging up his Jedi tunics for the last time.

These days, they wore comfortable, worn clothing and did nothing more strenuous than isometric exercises. They still carried their 'sabers, and the younger generation still came to them for advice and help -- though both of them suspected it was more a sop to the aging Jedi than for any real purpose.

Years before, they might have fallen into the room, kissing each other passionately as they ripped at each others' clothing. Years before, Qui-Gon might have carried Obi-Wan into the room, whispering obscene suggestions of what he wanted to do to and with Obi-Wan. Years before, they might have stayed up all night making love, or simply never left their bed save for necessary bodily functions and food. Years before, when they still lived in the Temple on Coruscant, their love affair was the stuff of legends.

It was still legendary, but both the legend and the men had grown older.

Now, they removed their clothing perfunctorily, folding it neatly or placing it in the hamper for the housedroid to wash. Now, they climbed under the covers of their big bed and came together in a familiar fashion, adjusting themselves into a cuddle that did not put strain on past injuries or brittle bones. Now, when Obi-Wan put his head over Qui-Gon's heart, he felt the slightly puckered scar where the Sith had nearly killed Qui-Gon under his cheek, and silently thanked the Force once again for saving his love.

It was still daylight, though the heavy cloud layer and the rain still pelting the windows made it much darker than normal for the hour. Obi-Wan lay with his head over Qui-Gon's heart, just listening to it beat and letting the sound of it soothe him.

Qui-Gon was letting his hand run up and down the skin of Obi-Wan's back; the calluses on his fingers felt good on Obi-Wan's skin. The hand moved slower and slower until it stopped behind Obi-Wan's neck. "Don't fall asleep on me, now," Obi-Wan said, his voice soft.

"Hm? No, I was just resting my eyes."

Obi-Wan chuckled and gently bit the nipple next to his mouth.

"Hey!"

"Yes?"

"I thought we'd agreed on no biting in this relationship."

"I don't remember signing any such agreement." Lifting his head and eyeing his lifemate, Obi-Wan deliberately let his hand drift low on Qui-Gon's body until he reached Qui-Gon's quiescent genitals, pleased with the immediate indrawn breath his touch engendered. "I'm sure I would remember if I had."

It was so pleasant, Obi-Wan thought as Qui-Gon began kissing him slowly, to lie on their bed and be loved. When had he ever thought growing old would be frightening? To be sure, things took much longer now -- it took close to an hour of conscious, sexual intent for either of them to get an erection and quite often, neither was hard enough to penetrate -- and they were restricted from doing many other things they had loved to do when they were younger. But it was all right, really. It wasn't so much a hardship.

Obi-Wan felt his own flesh stir lazily from the kisses Qui-Gon was giving him -- hot, rather nasty kisses that felt so good. They alternated fondling each other with tickling, light touches everywhere their hands could reach, and Obi-Wan sighed in pleasure. "I love you," he murmured into Qui-Gon's mouth.

"I rather think you'd better," Qui-Gon replied, smiling as his lips were captured again.

They continued to kiss and pet each other as the rain cascaded down on their home. Obi-Wan felt the slow rise of pleasure and sighed again. "Since you're the choco expert in this house, perhaps you'd like to try your gift?" he whispered.

"I suppose I could do that," Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan lifted his hand and the bottle came to him. "I can't believe you bought me edible sexual lubricant on my nameday."

"And why not?" Obi-Wan asked, popping the cap on the bottle.

"It's not exactly something anyone would suspect a centenarian of using frequently, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked at him askance. "That's just because they've never met you."

Qui-Gon laughed, which crinkled up the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, making him simply more beautiful to Obi-Wan.

Holding the bottle out, Obi-Wan squeezed a small amount onto Qui-Gon's finger, for a taste. Qui-Gon's skeptical look vanished as he licked his finger, to be replaced by pleased surprise. "Not bad," he said. "But I think I'd better try it somewhere else, just to be sure."

Allowing himself to be laid flat on the bed, Obi-Wan smiled when Qui-Gon let a measure of the thick stuff dribble on his half-hard cock. It felt a little odd, a little chill, but it warmed considerably once Qui-Gon bent down and began licking it off.

"Tastes much better this way," Qui-Gon murmured appreciatively.

Obi-Wan merely groaned his agreement. Qui-Gon's mouth felt so good, so hot...

"Here, let's do this," Qui-Gon said, nudging Obi-Wan over. He shortly had them arranged in a classic '69' before going back to his enthusiastic oral attentions. "You should have bought this for us years ago, Obi-Wan," he said after dribbling some more of the lubricant on Obi-Wan's genitals.

Shuddering all over, Obi-Wan managed to calm himself enough to call the bottle with the qualla berry flavor to his hand. "Had I known you would have been so enthusiastic about it, I would have."

Qui-Gon moaned softly when Obi-Wan poured a nice amount of the stuff on him. An experimental lick confirmed what his nose told him -- it tasted quite a bit like qualla berries, though there was a slight medicinal aftertaste.

The stuff was thick, like honey, so a small amount went a long way. Even so, Qui-Gon became a little reckless as Obi-Wan began to suck on him, and poured so much on Obi-Wan that it dripped over his testicles and began to ooze down between his legs. "Oh, better get that," Qui-Gon said, a bit breathlessly. Obi-Wan gladly spread his legs wider to let his lifemate go deeper with his tongue and lips.

They let their arousal grow slowly and steadily, reveling in the feel, the taste of each other. The lubricant was merely a wonderful addition to what they were already comfortable with, a coda on their love for each other, for how much they loved to love each other. Obi-Wan felt himself spiraling up and up and up, but when his orgasm washed over him, it was merely another step, not the end of his arousal, his excitement. And, when Qui-Gon flooded his mouth with bitter, qualla-flavored seed, he swallowed with a smile, knowing exactly how his lifemate felt.

The orgasms made them wonderfully limp, and Obi-Wan almost felt like he was sinking into the mattress. He took a deep breath and locked the memory of the moment away in his brain, filed it with so many other times he couldn't bear to part with. He let the breath out slowly, with a hum of pleasure.

He felt Qui-Gon's thigh under his cheek tense before Qui-Gon moved. "A bit sticky, but overall a lovely addition," Qui-Gon said. There was a languorous quality to his voice that was only evident, generally, after a particularly good round of loving. It made Obi-Wan smile.

"Yes, I think I concur." He stretched, carefully, and turned himself so that they were back in their starting positions. "I'm glad I got the qualla-flavored one as well."

"Bah. I don't like qualla berries."

"Yes, you do, you've had them frequently."

"Frozen. I don't like them if they're not frozen and mixed with cream."

"Yes, dear."

Obi-Wan felt rather than heard the subdued chuckle. "We'll have to get more of that stuff on your nameday," Qui-Gon slurred, beginning to breathe deeply.

"Mm-hmm." Feeling himself fall, Obi-Wan did nothing to stop it, and soon was deeply asleep.

Early the next morning, Obi-Wan was awakened by the sound of a fighter landing in the field. Ah, Luke had made it, he realized, checking to see if Qui-Gon had woken.

He wasn't fully awake, but when the second ship roared overhead, Qui-Gon opened his eyes. "Two?" At Obi-Wan's nod, Qui-Gon continued, his voice raspy from sleep. "Sounds like he brought Wedge with him." Qui-Gon was smiling, for once not bothering to hide his pleasure at the visit.

Obi-Wan smiled back and kissed his lifemate before rising to start their day.

end