Master Apprentice  Archive The Master's Musings - 2002-01-08 -
Sweet Revenge |
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Archive: MA, any others just ask, I probably won't say no
My Home Page: http://www.jediphiles.com/~mali
Category: PWP
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: None
Pairing: Q/O
Summary: A series of short snippets, all from Qui-Gon's POV, focusing on his love for Obi-Wan, and their relationship.
Disclaimer: These beautiful boys aren't mine, they belong to George. I'm just playing with them for a bit. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Don't sue - I've got no money. I've spent it all on seeing TPM way too many times and buying SW toys and feeding my Liam obsession.
Feedback: Oh yes, please. Good, bad or indifferent.
This one hasn't been betad - you've been warned.
I knew Obi-Wan was plotting his revenge against me for surprising him in the gardens the other day. I could see it in his eyes, could sense it through our bond. I knew whatever he chose to do to me would be delicious.
He knew the wait was driving me insane.
I made sure he had ample opportunity to exact his revenge. He allowed each chance to slip away. He teased me without mercy. He asked if I was going to be alone in the temple library, knowing I was. He remarked on my choice of sparring rooms, feigning surprise that I had chosen an older one which is almost never used.
Yesterday afternoon I strolled through the gardens, making my way slowly to the wall where I had taken him, so hard and fast, and the memories of that afternoon left me aching and empty. He knew I was going to be there, I made sure he knew, and I was certain he would come and find me. He did not.
I was constantly on alert, determined he would not catch me off-guard.
He is very clever, that Padawan of mine.
"I'm having trouble running the final tests on the training droids," he said this morning as we were going over our schedules for the day. "Would you have some free time this afternoon to help?"
I am in the middle of my teaching rotation here at the temple, and while I always enjoy working with the young initiates, it does keep us both on planet for the duration. Obi-Wan usually spends the days either in class or volunteering in some of the workshops. This time he's been caught up in completely re-programming the droids used for saber training. It is a project that is long overdue, but few Jedi have the time or knowledge to complete the task. As a youngster, Obi-Wan worked with the team that developed the original program, so he certainly is qualified. And my teaching rotation has given him the time to do it.
From the beginning there have been problems, though, as much of the code in the original program is archaic and cumbersome. Night after night as we share third meal, I listen as he runs over the days events, explaining which tests he's run, and what he plans to do next. On more than one occasion he has asked for my help, and I am always glad to give it.
It never occurs to me to think that today might be any different.
Obi-Wan has commandeered a room deep within the bowels of the temple, in order to set up the shielding necessary while programming the droids. But even the strongest shielding can not keep out the force-energy of a temple full of force-sensitive beings, so the room needed to be as far away from areas of regular activity as possible.
Which is how I've come to be walking through the silent, nearly dark halls of part of the temple most Jedi don't even know exists. Because of the room's heavy shielding, I can't use our bond to guide me to Obi-Wan, but rely, instead, on my memory. Even though I've been down here several times recently, I still manage to lose my way twice before I finally find the correct door.
Knowing it won't open for me, I press the button that will announce me to whoever might be inside. As expected, I hear the locks cycle through and then the door slides soundlessly open. As expected, Obi-Wan sits in front of a small computer screen, which is the only source of light in the small room. He'll turn up the lights when actually working with the droids, but prefers programming in the near dark. As expected, he looks up and smiles at me as I enter the room, the door sliding shut behind me.
However, I am not expecting my wrists to be grabbed by the two droids that suddenly come to life on either side of me. Very strong droids, I might add. I immediately recognize the futility of struggling against the iron bands, and instead, relax into it.
"That worked better than I hoped," Obi-Wan chuckles from across the room. I hear him tapping something out on the keyboard and the droids begin moving forward, dragging me along with them. They pull me towards a chair which is facing the wrong way, and I am quickly yanked over the back of it, my palms resting on the arms of the chair.
"I don't recall saber training droids being so useful," I tell him, straight faced.
"You are always telling me I shouldn't be satisfied with what is tried and true, Master," he says, rising from behind the computer. He is dressed in a comfortable pair of leggings, and not surprisingly, is barefoot. "You've also taught me to know what is expected, and then find a way around it."
"You have always been quick study." It feels odd to be in the same room with him, yet unable to reach him through our bond. He has done a very good job with the room's shielding. It feels odd, yes, but exciting at the same time.
He begins to move slowly towards me. "You surprised me the other day in the gardens, my Master." His voice has grown deeper, the words almost a caress.
"A pleasant surprise, I hope?" I ask as he comes to a stop in front of me. He goes down on one knee and is close enough that his breath tickles my beard when he speaks.
"Oh, very pleasant, my Master," he whispers huskily. "Feel free to surprise me like that any time. And to show you how much I enjoyed your surprise, I thought I would prepare a surprise of my own for you."
He leans up, then, pressing his lips lightly against mine. "I'm going to take you, Qui-Gon," he murmurs softly against my lips. "Hard and fast, just like you took me."
I shiver as a bolt of white-hot desire races through my blood, and the constant ache I've had for him suddenly blossoms into a raging need. "You don't have to bind me," I tell him as he continues to nuzzle against my skin.
He slides his hands up my arms, over my shoulders, through my beard, across the sides of my face, and into my hair. "But just think how much fun I can have with you like this." His tongue slides against my lips, just once.
I gasp and lunge forward, wanting more of those sweet, satiny lips against mine, and only then do I realize the chair is bolted to the floor.
He stands up and takes a step backward, a soft smile playing about his lips. "I've been hard for you all day, Qui-Gon." His hands are at his waist, and with a flick of his wrist, his leggings come untied. Another flick and they fall to the floor. And he is hard. Beautifully hard.
My own erection strains against my leggings, which are now uncomfortably tight.
He is staring at me, his eyes dark with need. "All day I've thought about you and what I want to do to you." He kicks his leggings off. "Hard and fast, Qui-Gon." He slides one hand down his stomach, through the reddish-gold curls at the base of his shaft, and then he is sliding his fist roughly up and down his length.
"Oh, Force!" I groan.
He moves behind me and grabs the waistband of my leggings, breaking the ties as he yanks them down. "Hard and fast, Qui-Gon!" he growls as he kicks my legs further apart.
He fumbles with something, and then he is pushing his finger into my body. It is slick and cold and not enough. Not nearly enough. He hurriedly moves his finger in and out of me, just once, and then, finally, I can feel his cock at my entrance.
I strain backwards, wanting him to hurry. Needing him to take me, to fill me. To love me. And he knows what I want. It's what we both want. With a low growl, he shoves himself into me, fully sheathing himself in one hard thrust.
"Yes!" I gasp loudly.
"Force but you are so hot," he moans.
Hands holding my hips, he pulls out and shoves back in, making us both grunt from the strength of his thrust.
"Again!" I pant, though there is no need. He begins to plunge deeply into me, again and again. With each lunge, I am pushed into the back of the chair and my throbbing erection is shoved against the rough fabric, and I know I won't last.
He is slamming into me now, over and over, and his fingers are digging into my hips, and he is grunting, and with each thrust his shaft pounds that sweet spot deep inside of me.
"Love you!" he groans, and that is all it takes to send me over the edge. With a strangled sounding cry, I begin to shudder uncontrollably, as my seed splashes onto the back of the chair.
"Oh Force, Master!" Obi-Wan cries out, and with a final shove he filling me with his essence in long, hot, wonderful pulses.
He sags against me, his cheek resting on my back, as both of us try to get control of our ragged, gasping breathing.
"As soon as I can stand I'll get you released," Obi-Wan mumbles against my back.
"No need," I tell him as the droids at my wrists fall away. I twist around, grabbing Obi-Wan and both of us collapse into the chair.
"How did you?" he begins . . . but I silence him with a kiss.
"You didn't really think I would come into a force shielded room with you without some sort of protection, did you?" I pull back my hair so that he can see the small metallic force shield inhibitor taped to the back of my ear.
Yes, revenge is sweet. Almost as sweet as being loved by Obi-Wan.
Fini