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Rating: This one is definitely NC-17. Though still kind of a mild NC- 17. Nevertheless, Emma was impressed.

Category: Obi/Bail, PWP, humor

Archive: yes, and at my site, www.wyomingnot.com/rita/rita.html

Summary: Bail isn't the only one who indulges in PDA; companion piece to "Take 'Em As They Are."

Feedback: on or off list, positive or negative, black or green olives, but hold the pepperoni

Disclaimer: I, being of sound mind and body, do hereby knowingly trespass upon Skywalker Ranch and all the galaxies contained therein. George Lucas, etc, etc.

Thank yous: To the LJ gang for their thoughts, contributions, nagging, etc, etc. To join this happy crowd, visit www.livejournal.com/users/jedirita. Also, visit my LJ for a sneak peek at a very rough draft of an upcoming story.

I highly recommend reading this one while listening to your favorite opera duet.

Obi-Wan struggled not to fidget. Why had he let Bail talk him into coming to the opera? He hated opera. The music could be nice enough, but the plot lines were always so contrived, and the emotions melodramatic. Only in opera could someone get mortally stabbed and still be singing about it fifteen minutes later. Right now the diva was singing to her lover, imprisoned in a tower. The way she was belting out her love for him, the guards should have already heard her and shown up to arrest her, too. He stifled a yawn.

He had agreed to come because it meant spending time with Bail, but he reflected that as much as he enjoyed Bail's company, he had better give more thought to the setting of that company in the future. Bail was paying no attention to Obi-Wan. Instead, he sat forward in his seat, enraptured, clearly enjoying himself. It figured. Gorgeous clothing, excess emotion, rampant spectacle -- of course Bail would love opera. It suited his temperament. Too bad it didn't suit the Jedi temperament at all, except as an exercise in patience.

Really the setting was conducive to mischief. He and Bail were in a private box, one reserved for the Alderaani senate office staff. None of the others had chosen to attend tonight, which meant that he and Bail were alone. Secluded. In a darkened theater. With everyone else's attention riveted on the stage.

Hmmm. What would Bail normally do in a situation like this?

Obi-Wan's lips twitched in a wicked grin. There was no reason why both of them couldn't enjoy the evening. His hand slid over the arm of the chair and came to rest on Bail's knee. The prince flashed him a quick smile before returning his attention to the stage.

Obi-Wan waited patiently, then shifted, his hand moving higher on Bail's thigh, lightly tracing circles on the velvet of the prince's robe. It was a new robe, one that closed down the front. He wouldn't be able to accomplish much through its thick folds, but no worry. He understood the philosophy of Bail's wardrobe well enough to know how to plan his assault. Bail always made sure that all his robes that closed down the front had a slit in the side so he could reach inside to his pants pockets.

Incredibly convenient, really.

As the aria dragged on, Obi-Wan slowly inched his way up toward Bail's hip. When he reached his destination, he deftly slid his hand into the slit in the robe, snaking down to grasp Bail's crotch.

The prince turned to glare at him. "Obi-Wan," he warned in a whisper, "what are you doing?"

"Just getting comfortable," Obi-Wan innocently replied.

"Well, don't get any ideas," Bail said. "We're in public."

Oh, that was rich! Obi-Wan fought back a laugh. "You know how I feel about public displays of affection. Don't worry."

Bail watched him suspiciously for a moment, then gave a short nod and looked back at the stage. He apparently thought Obi-Wan would go no farther. Obi-Wan permitted himself a tiny, sly grin, and waited.

Each time Bail shifted or moved, Obi-Wan discreetly unfastened another pants button. The prince never noticed, so engrossed was he in the opera. At last Obi-Wan achieved his objective. In one swift movement, his hand dove into Bail's pants and wrapped around the prince's cock.

Bail sat bolt upright in his chair, grabbing at Obi-Wan's arm. But Obi-Wan latched firmly onto Bail's nether regions and would not be moved.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bail hissed in fury.

"Can't you figure it out?" Obi-Wan answered, not releasing his grip.

Bail's fingers dug into Obi-Wan's bicep. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but now is not a good time. I am trying to listen to the opera!"

"What I'm doing won't involve your ears," Obi-Wan slyly pointed out. He squeezed, causing the prince to jerk.

"Let go of me," Bail frantically whispered.

"I advise you to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the opera, your Highness," Obi-Wan replied, unconcerned. "We can either do this quietly, or that duet onstage down there can become a trio."

"You wouldn't dare," Bail breathed.

Obi-Wan said nothing, but began to stroke the rapidly growing erection in his hand.

Bail squeezed harder on Obi-Wan's arm, desperately trying to dislodge him, but he was no match against a Jedi's strength -- especially a determined and horny Jedi. "Please stop," he begged, even as his legs opened wider. "We're in public!"

"No one is watching," Obi-Wan observed. "And you obligingly wore a robe which will conceal everything."

"The opera -- I'm begging you -- what will -- for pity's sake!" Bail was growing incoherent, wriggling in Obi-Wan's grip.

"Why should I show you mercy when you've never shown me any?" Obi-Wan answered. His touch grew feather light, teasing, and Bail leaned back in his chair, whimpering softly. Obi-Wan leaned closer, his lips brushing against Bail's ear. "Quiet, your Highness, or someone will hear."

He ran his thumb over the tip of Bail's cock, and Bail bit down hard on his lip, his breath quickening. He clung to Obi-Wan's arm, but he no longer attempted to stop him. Obi-Wan stroked Bail with a deft touch, knowing when to stop and when to increase his pace. He watched the duet onstage, timing his strokes to match the tempo of the music. When the music crescendoed, his pressure increased. At the quieter, slower moments, his touch likewise eased. He was thus able to draw out his onslaught far longer than Bail ever had in his own relentless PDA infractions.

Bail had abandoned the opera, totally lost in Obi-Wan's touch, writhing in his chair, his breathing harsh and ragged. He grabbed Obi-Wan's hair and pulled the Jedi to him in a desperate kiss, moaning softly into Obi-Wan's mouth.

Below them onstage, the singers' voices twined around each other in a musical embrace, pouring out words of love, the notes spiraling higher and higher, the orchestra swirling beneath them, pushing them all to a crescendo, Obi-Wan matching the music's pace. The onstage lovers soared to a climax just as Obi-Wan gave the prince a final squeeze, and Bail convulsed against him, groaning in his ear.

The audience around them burst into applause in thunderous ovation of the singers. Bail sagged in Obi-Wan's embrace, as Obi-Wan removed his hand from Bail's pants and pressed a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead. "I think I could grow to like opera after all," he pronounced.

Bail looked up at him, eyes gleaming in the faint light. "Just wait until the encore."