Theme and Timbre: Obbligato

by RavenD (ravendreams@earthlink.net)

Archive: master_apprentice, anyone else, pls. ask

Author's web page: http://www.ravenswing.com/ravendreams/

Category: PWP

Series: Part of the "Theme and Timbre" Series

Rating: NC-17

Warnings None

Spoilers: none

Summary: An extended solo with vocal accompaniment.

Notes: More musical term smut. *shrug* I enjoy it. All mistakes are mine. Thanks to MJ for the beta.

Feedback: Waited for with bated breath.

Disclaimers: Lucas owns it all. I don't have enough money to pay attention.

Obbligato - An extended solo, often accompanying the vocal part of an aria

His gaze followed Obi-Wan around the room, watching, waiting. His body felt tight, skin giving miniscule twitches, toes clenching rhythmically. Qui-Gon stretched out on his bed, forcing his muscles to relax. He felt the sheets rasp against his back, his legs. He was hard, cock aching. His hands, still slick with oil, ached to stroke his body, to run his fingers over the slit in his cock and make himself come.

He twisted his hands in the bedclothes, breathing deeply, forcing back his arousal.

He waited.

This was Obi-Wan's game, after all.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan looked at him, still half-dressed, looking calm and relaxed. Only the bulge in his leggings and the tiny tremors in his hands betrayed his excitement. Qui-Gon allowed himself the luxury of admiring the strong chest, the long braid caressing a stiff nipple, the trail of hair leading down a muscular belly...

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Are you ready?" Qui-Gon read the mischief in those eyes and it sent a shiver up his spine. He nodded.

"Place your hands on your hips. Now, slowly trace the bones there. That's right. Just stroke them." There was a rasp to Obi-Wan's voice, a roughness that spoke of desire. "I love resting my cheek in the hollow of your hip, breathing in the smell of you, knowing I could taste you if I simply stretch."

The idea, simply the idea of his Obi-Wan's mouth so near his cock made Qui-Gon's hips jerk. His fingers tickled, taunted and Qui-Gon cursed them for obeying Obi-Wan's directions.

"Now, move your hand inward. No! Don't touch your cock! Just your sac. Warm them in your hands, roll them between your fingers."

Qui-Gon's breath caught, his hips steadily rocking, groin becoming impossibly tight. He stroked the skin of his sac, caressing the soft hairs, pressing just hard enough to whisper discomfort.

Obi-Wan's voice rolled over him, heating him as much as the weight of Obi-Wan's gaze. He wanted, needed to move his hands, stroke his hardness and make himself come. Qui-Gon swallowed his pleas and simply looked at his lover, willing him closer.

Obi-Wan took one step, two, before stopping with a breathless chuckle. "No cheating. Are you close? Do you want more?"

Qui-Gon allowed himself a nod and a swallowed moan.

Obi-Wan walked up to the edge of the bed, close enough that Qui-Gon could smell the desire pouring from him. "Touch yourself. Make yourself come. I want to see you come for me, Qui-Gon. Now."

He didn't need to be told twice. His hands were almost as hot as the seed that splashed on his stomach.

Almost as hot as Obi-Wan's tongue.

The End