Let Him See

by Emila-Wan Kenobi

Title: Let Him See
Author: Emila-Wan Kenobi
Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... jediphiles@yahoo.com
Archive: M_A. Others please ask.
Category: PWP
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Summary: Qui-Gon discovers something naughty in Obi-Wan's bag.
Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.
Warnings: None
Series: None, thank the Maker
Note: Answer to a first line challenge by myself for MMoM.

"I can explain," Obi-Wan said.

Obi-Wan had entered his room just in time to witness Qui-Gon emptying a suspiciously full pair of socks to expose a glossy black dildo. In an unaccustomed fit of helpfulness, Qui-Gon had apparently begun unpacking Obi-Wan's bags and sorting laundry while his apprentice was in the 'fresher trying to scrub away the grime of three weeks in the jungles of Muntabaria.

Qui-Gon was ready for his turn in the 'fresher, stripped down to his leggings, a sack full of dirty clothes dangling from one huge fist. Obi-Wan, who was trained to notice small details, was fascinated to observe the skin of Qui-Gon's face and neck flushing a rather un-Masterly shade of pink.

"There's no need," Qui-Gon said quickly, dropping the dildo as if it had burned him and clutching the laundry sack with both hands. He pointedly did *not* look at Obi-Wan, who was squeaky clean, fragrant from his shower, and wrapped only in a towel that had slipped when Obi-Wan had raised his hands in earnest entreaty. Qui-Gon would need to brush past Obi-Wan, perhaps dislodging the towel further, if he wanted to escape from the room.

Obi-Wan, realizing this, crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, effectively blocking the exit. "I bought it because it reminded me of you. Well, the size of it, anyway. The color is more Master Windu's shade, don't you think?"

Qui-Gon's rosy hue faded. His eyes rose, and his mouth hardened. Blue eyes met green, and neither could seem to look away. "We've had this discussion, Padawan."

"What discussion is that? Oh, wait, the one where I beg you to fuck me, and you say no? You're right. That one *has* grown tiresome."

Qui-Gon looked down. "Please, let me pass," he said softly.

Obi-Wan, looking chastened, stepped further into the room and gestured Qui-Gon through the door. Once he was outside, however, Obi-Wan spoke again. "Master."

Qui-Gon seemed to shudder, briefly. He turned and met Obi-Wan's eyes, politely questioning.

"I hope you don't begrudge me this." Obi-Wan gestured towards his pack. "It's all I have ... until you say yes."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. He licked his lips, looking more vulnerable than Obi-Wan had ever seen him. "I can't ..."

Obi-Wan was suddenly ashamed of himself. "I know, Master. I'm sorry."

Qui-Gon looked up again, his face suddenly fierce, and turned to face him fully. "You're not the only one who's finding it ... hard ... to wait." Qui-Gon reached out, ran a finger down Obi-Wan's braid to collect a drop of water that hung there, then lifted it to his lips and tasted it. "I can't even say that I intend to say yes," he said, as if to himself. He spun and walked away.

Obi-Wan's knees no longer wanted to support him. He stumbled back and sat heavily on his bed, watching as Qui-Gon crossed into his own room and gently shut the door.

Obi-Wan fell onto his back, arms spread, and moaned. The towel across his hips, already distended by a generous bulge, began to twitch and rise. Obi-Wan used his Jedi training for total recall to picture Qui-Gon again as he'd looked when startled -- long, lean legs encased in clinging homespun, bare feet, bare chest with brown nipples peaked and hard, breath rising and falling just a fraction too quickly, the sudden blush, and there, at the core of him, a long, thick erection clearly outlined along his thigh.

Obi-Wan moaned again, amazed that his body could respond so eagerly despite indulging in a quick wank in the shower just moments before. He rolled over and grabbed at his pack. The contents spilled everywhere as he lunged for the dildo and a tube of lubricant. He thought briefly about closing the door, but then he decided he didn't care. Let Qui-Gon see. Let him understand just how much Obi-Wan wanted him.

Obi-Wan squirted a dab of lube on the dildo, turned onto his belly, and shoved the thing inside himself, not caring it was cold. He needed something in him, now. In his mind's eye, he was picturing Qui-Gon, running his finger down his braid, following it with his tongue. Qui-Gon, grasping him by the shoulders, turning him, pressing him down to the bed, fumbling his cock free, ramming himself home.

"Oh, yes, yes," Obi-Wan groaned, ass in the air, fucking himself with the dildo and imagining it was Qui-Gon, grunting and sweating above him, pounding into him. Without even a touch to his own cock, he shouted, "Master!" and came hard into the rough weave of the towel.

He collapsed, panting, withdrawing the dildo carefully and wiping it on the towel. He was suddenly grateful for the laundry droids, who never questioned anything they might find among the linens.

It might have been a trick of his imagination, but he thought he heard, just as he rolled over onto his back, a faint click, as of a door closing.

The End

Note: You can see the companion piece from Qui-Gon's POV here: "Turn Away."