Master Apprentice
Archive
A Little Bit o' Heaven
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Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Fireside heat
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 67
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/
My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie
Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
To Alex, Ula, and Nerowill, my friends and betas extraordinaire
Ian and Quinn sat in front of the fire, gazing into the flames contentedly. Graded essays and lecture notes had long since been exiled to their briefcases. In their flannel pajamas for the night, with thick cotton socks on their feet, they'd settled in to enjoy the best part of the evening. Quinn's back rested against the couch, his arm around Ian, who relaxed on his chest. Their checked quilt covered them to the waist.
"Our little bit o' heaven, lad." Quinn sighed happily.
Ian murmured his agreement into Quinn's shoulder.
Warmth seeped into them from each other's heat and that of the fire. Their hearth, not just for a day or two of vacation, but all their own. Already, the mantel was crowded with the stuff of their lives together, and they could actually reach the books on the teak shelves again. They'd put their favorites here: their wedding picture and cruise photos from the Princess Leah and QO2, as well as snapshots of both families.
The Hobbit sat beside them, the first chapter just read in Quinn's soft lilt. His five-year-old edition showed its age, not only by the curl of the pages, but by the ridged cracks in its spine. It was almost as well-traveled as Bilbo himself, finding a home at the bottom of Ian's duffel on their trips to Williamsburg, Hotham, and The Wayfarers' Inn.
No matter how many times he'd read the book, Quinn had never enjoyed it more than here beside their home fire. He loved to entertain Ian with his impressions of the characters, his lad's sweet face seeming even more boyish than usual in his wonderment. Quinn had a particular aptitude for Gandalf, perhaps because of his affinity with the character. Ian had occasionally teased him about a parallel universe in which he was a tall, commanding wizard with the same passion Quinn had for good causes and a knack for setting things to rights.
Ian was enthralled by Quinn's rendition of Bilbo, the dwarves, and especially Gandalf; he gave them all distinctive voices and personalities, and somehow his pompous Thorin Oakenshield always made Ian laugh. While his Gandalf could make Ian shiver.
Quinn kissed Ian's hair. "Our own hearth, and no unexpected guests to share it with."
Ian's hand was warm on Quinn's waist through the flannel. "Mmmm. Just as cozy as Bag End."
"Cozier, because we're no longer bachelor hobbits." Quinn's palm on Ian's cheek positioned him for a deep kiss.
Their kisses by the fireside had never been so carefree. Here in their own little home, they relaxed in a way they'd not been able to before. No near neighbors, no footsteps on their ceiling, no smells of dinner in the next apartment, no sounds in the corridor -- just the peace that the two of them had created together from the very first moment they'd met.
Their dogs -- Sandy, the fox terrier, and Artoo, the chihuahua, -- were in their kitchen baskets for the night. Quinn's tabby cats had stayed with his former neighbor, having acclimated to her household.
Their home was quiet around them, save for the welcome sound of the fire. The perfect environment for making love.
Quinn started to undo the oversized buttons on Ian's pajama shirt, sliding his hand inside to caress his fire-warmed skin. Ian's murmurs of pleasure blended with the music of the fire, urging Quinn to lean in and cover those lips with his own. He tasted the rum mocha they'd shared earlier, and couldn't stop searching for more. His own groans soon added to their song, and Quinn eased Ian down to the carpet, covering him with his warmth. The sheen of their mingled saliva on Ian's lips, the ruddiness of his cheeks from the heat of the fire, the look of adoration in his eyes -- all made Quinn want to tease the moans out of him until exhaustion took them.
Ian set to work on Quinn's pajama buttons, and soon their bare chests were kissing too. Fortunately, the men had an inexhaustible supply of kisses for each other, which warmed them more than the flannel. Lips lingering over every bit of exposed skin, they soon wanted more.
"Oh, yeah," Ian whispered, capturing Quinn's hands and licking the palms leisurely. At Quinn's groan, he did it again, feeling the emphatic result against his thigh, more urgent than before.
Ian's amazing hips led Quinn's in their erotic dance, his eager hands tugging his husband's waistband down to his thighs, the pressure unsnapping Quinn's pants along the way. Quinn kicked them off without lifting his mouth from Ian's. Quinn's damp palms slid under the flannel clinging to Ian's hips and legs, and swiped it off with a few strokes.
Quinn's fierce look would have ended it for Ian right there if not for its familiarity and promise of more delights to come.
They moved together in a sweaty glide, each seeking the other's pleasure and finding his own within it. Ian's craving for his husband shone in his blue-green eyes as Quinn reached for the end table drawer and their mint gel. Quinn readied him with loving -- if impatient -- hands, the width of his fingers preparing Ian thoroughly, even for a man of Quinn's size. Slicking himself more quickly, Quinn pressed his lips against the bridge of Ian's nose for a long moment.
His eyes locked with Ian's, Quinn gasped into his husband's mouth when they finally joined completely. He tried to keep a slow, even pace, but found himself driving faster and deeper as Ian trembled beneath him. His thrusts grew more erratic with Ian's increasing tremors and grunts, which intensified Quinn's pleasure exponentially. Quinn's height made it easy to kiss his lad in this position, and he didn't stop until his climax, brought on by Ian's own.
A little bit o' heaven, indeed.