Disclaimer: George should have so much fun with these
characters, but at least he gets money for it, none for me
Category: I dunno, unless there's one for wicked teasing?
Note: I was struck with this after enjoying a fabulous dinner
of barbecued snow crab at Joe's Crab Shack. And I love the idea
of Qui-Gon, being attuned to the Living Force and all, being an
unabashed sensualist.
Spoilers: None
Archive: M_A only - w/ e-mail address, please -
peacewind@home.com
Feedback - onlist, offlist, appreciated if positive. I already
know my bad habits.
Summary: Yet another lesson in the Living Force for Obi-Wan
Kenobi. (smirk)
The banquet for the new Senator's reception was, Obi-Wan was
immensely relieved to note, served buffet-style. That meant he
could choose what he wanted, and not be subjected to
unpalatable and inedible menu items. As a diplomat, he knew he
must do the polite thing, but to be somewhat relieved of that
responsibility was most welcome.
Not that his master thought that way. Trailing along behind
Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan noted with the usual horror how his
master selected the strangest food items. The tall Jedi Master
had just picked up a sauce-laden cluster of what looked like
very large insect legs when his padawan learner barely
suppressed a noise of disgust.
[Did he hear me?] Filling his plate with more fruit and fried
pastries, Obi-Wan backed off a pace, carefully avoiding
anything that looked like it had once crawled. To his further
dismay, he noted that the hosts had thoughtfully seated the
Jedi facing one another.
"Master, what IS that?" Obi-Wan had to ask finally. He
watched in abject horror as Qui-Gon tore off a leg, breaking
off a joint, then snapping the carapace to extract the meat
therein.
"Hmm?" Qui-Gon, who had been prepared, with a great sense of
satisfaction, to tuck into one of his most favorite dishes in
the galaxy, looked up at his twenty-three-year-old padawan. He
frowned a little at Obi-Wan's expression. "This? Oh, these are
Jikkil karib legs! A great delicacy, anywhere. But this, ah,
Obi-Wan, this is a special preparation." He put the end of the
piece he'd broken off in his mouth, sucking lightly to extract
the reddish sauce that had been left behind. "Mmmm, they call
this seasoning 'burbacku'. Very delicious."
Obi-Wan knew well that his fascinating and often startling
master had a particular way with enjoying his connection to the
Living Force... and food was one of them, though he was lucky
to have a metabolism that handled whatever rare excesses he
allowed himself like he handled a lightsaber: expertly. Obi-Wan
watched as his master continued to extract the white morsels of
spicy meat, dipping them in another seasoned oil, then bringing
the dripping mass to his mouth.
"Um, you do appear to be enjoying the dish, Master," Obi-Wan
offered, his own plate forgotten.
"Hmmm?" Qui-Gon snapped another leg in half, causing his
padawan learner to inadvertently jump. The Master paid no
notice, bringing the leg up to his mouth. Savoring the savory,
hot seasoning, Qui-Gon licked the outside of the shell he was
holding so as to enjoy as much as possible.
At the flick of tongue, Obi-Wan's mouth went dry. "Good, is
it?" He watched as Qui-Gon sucked out another morsel, then put
the shell down.
"Very good, Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly with a small smile on
his lips. He regarded his dripping hands for a brief pause,
then proceeded to lick the red sauce from his hands. Oh, he'd
noted his student's horror... and interest. [My proper little
padawan,] he thought to himself, curbing a smirk. [It's been a
while since I've properly teased him...]
"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan gasped, then belatedly remembered that
licking hands was a sign to the cook on this planet that the
food was deeply appreciated. Hastily he stuffed a piece of
fruit into his own mouth, licking off a trail of juice, wanting
to follow suit. Until he noticed that his master had frozen,
watching the lick. To his own horror, Obi-Wan noted just
how Qui-Gon had frozen. The man had his middle finger in
his mouth, down to the second knuckle.
Smoothly Qui-Gon finished licking the sauce from his hands.
"You really should try this, Padawan," he said calmly like they
were discussing a technique for sabers.
Obi-Wan stuffed his hands in his lap, then to his dismay
discovered his "lap" was, er, swollen... "Yes, Master," he said
obediently, then realized what the conversation was about. "No,
Master, how can you eat those? They're insects..."
"Crustaceans."
"Whatever. I couldn't... I'd be thinking of some creeping thing
slithering out of the mud." He shivered as Qui-Gon continued to
relish his meal.
"Karibs do not slither nor live in the mud, Padawan. At least
taste the cook's special seasoning. It's really extraordinary."
[Talk, talking is better than licking, er...] Obi-Wan looked up
to see his master, his cool, serene master reaching across the
table, offering him the reddish sauce on... his finger!
Unfortunately, he'd already noticed from surreptitious glances
down the table that fingers were considered shared eating
utensils here.
Qui-Gon smiled rather more broadly, enjoying playing with his
solemn padawan as much as he was enjoying the food. "Come on,
try it..." He waggled his finger invitingly.
[Damn...] But by now Obi-Wan was curious as to what his master
could be enjoying so thoroughly, insects or not. It couldn't
hurt to taste the seasoning, could it? "Very well..." When the
finger was extended within reach, he took a quick swipe of the
sauce from it.
It was... it was...
Obi-Wan straightened, looking again at the "insects" on his
master's plate. "Um, yes, the seasoning is indeed, ah,
delicious, Master," he managed to say. For another minute he
just sat and watched...
Large hands. Dripping fingers. Lips sucking meat and sauce from
the end. Tongue licking away excess. The easy, languid
expression of indolence on his master's face...
"Really, Qui-Gon, MUST YOU?" Obi-Wan erupted finally, shifting
uncomfortably. The sensual display had had a pronounced effect
on a certain extension of his own body.
The Jedi Master seemed wholly unconcerned for his padawan's
condition. He extended his whole hand to within a couple inches
of Obi-Wan's lips, the excess red sauce dripping into the young
man's fruit. "You want to do this?" he asked placidly.
"No!" Pause. "Yes!" Pause. "NO! Qui-Gon, I do NOT want to clean
your hand with my tongue," Obi-Wan retorted hotly, keeping his
voice fairly level. There was too much noise around them,
fortunately, to be overheard.
"I disagree, but... whatever," Qui-Gon sighed, withdrawing his
hand. He returned to licking it himself.
"What did you say?" Obi-Wan, open-mouthed, stared at his
master's hand and the swirling tongue in a curious mixture of
fascination, horror... and undisguised lust.
Qui-Gon shrugged and smiled. Finished with the hand bath, he
took up a chunk of the sweet, spicy, sauce-laden meat and
reached over to slip it into his padawan's mouth.
Automatically Obi-Wan closed his mouth. But before he could
react in disgust or abashed fury, the expression on his face
dramatically changed as he tasted the plump, tender meat nearly
melting into his taste buds.
It was... incredible. Sweet, yet creamy from the seasoned oil,
but spicy hot and very salty. Obi-Wan savored, chewed, then
swallowed.
"Good, isn't it?" Qui-Gon smiled, leaning back as he regarded
his padawan's reaction with satisfaction.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan admitted, feeling like his sense of
taste had just had an orgasm.
"Would you like some more?"
Belatedly, Obi-Wan realized he was nodding quite avidly.
Obediently he opened his mouth for another morsel. Closing his
eyes, he savored the delicacy yet again, the second piece every
bit as wonderful as the first.
[One day, Obi-Wan,] Qui-Gon was thinking to himself, pleased
with his maneuvering, [I'll share oral delicacies with you of a
different kind altogether...]
[One day, Qui-Gon,] Obi-Wan was thinking to himself, savoring
images of that licking tongue and those sucking lips just as he
savored the karib meat, [I'll sample more from you than just
delicious food from the ends of your fingers... mmmm...]
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