Pinned

by The Rose

Title: Pinned
Author: The Rose
Archive: M/A and my web site, http://www.sockiipress.org/~rose
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Category: Qui/Obi, PWP
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Feedback: <waves hand slowly in air> You WILL send feedback. Ah, come on! You know you want to! Either on-list or off to: rosarocaminis@yahoo.com
Disclaimers: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars and makes a fortune off of them. Me, I write for the fun of it and give it away for free.
Notes: Thanks to Kalujinn for the beta, and for helping with the ending. But I tweak, therefore all mistakes are mine.
Summary: Obi-Wan reflects on some changes in his attitude over the years.

I distinctly remember the first time my master pinned me during a wrestling match. I was only thirteen, small for my age and constantly tripping over my two left feet. We'd just gotten back from a long series of exhausting missions, and Qui-Gon decided that some practice in hand-to-hand combat would be relaxing.

Relaxing. Yeah, right.

I was using all of my skills to evade him, knowing well that once he got his hands on me, I was doomed. I remember feeling pretty proud of myself that day, smug almost, by how slippery I was being. More than once his hand had closed on my shoulder, or caught briefly in my leggings or in the thin work-out tunic I wore, but each time I'd managed to free myself by using some twisting, diving maneuver or other.

I realize now that smugness is not something it pays to feel around Qui-Gon. He sensed it, and apparently decided to take me down a peg or two. Before I knew what was happening, he'd caught me. I was flung to the floor of the training room like a sack of grain and his full weight dropped onto me in the next moment, driving all the air from my lungs and grinding my face into the mat. Huge hands caught my wrists and spread my arms out to the side, pinning them, and his strong legs locked mine firmly in place.

It was humiliating, and he held me down for much longer than was strictly necessary. Just emphasizing his point, I'm sure.

"Do you yield?" he finally asked, his breath tickling my ear and making me wish I could squirm away, which I couldn't.

"Yes," I said breathlessly.

He rolled off of me gracefully and drew me up by one wrist. I glared up at the slight smile he was struggling to hide.

"Not fair," I mumbled, not really intending him to hear me.

Of course, he did. "What's not fair?"

"I'll never be able to beat you. You'll always be bigger and stronger than I am."

"True." Qui-Gon never was one to pull his punches. "But, you're smaller and quicker, not to mention younger. You'll find other ways to win, I'm sure. Or at least ways to avoid being caught."

So, I spent the next few years learning just that. I got so good at it, in fact, that Qui-Gon never actually beat me in another wrestling match until I was fifteen. This time, he anticipated which way I was going to dodge and encircled me with his arms. A second later, I was once again face down on the mat with his weight pinning me there.

The damp skin of his bare chest pressed against my equally bare back, his hips crushed mine, one solid thigh wedged between my knees, his other leg holding my calves immobile. It was his normal wrestling hold. Only this time, adolescence and burgeoning hormones got the better of me. To my horror, I felt myself getting aroused.

The fact that I'd just recently developed a killer crush on Qui-Gon didn't help matters.

I felt my face turn crimson, and wished that I had my master's long hair to hide it. I quickly shored up my shields, hoping against hope that he wouldn't sense my problem. He must have known what was happening though, for he rolled off of me quickly and turned away, reaching for one of the towels at the edge of the workout area.

"That's all for today, Padawan," he'd said without looking at me. "I suggest you take a shower, and then we'll meet for late meal."

I staggered up, finding it difficult to move with my rock hard erection tenting my pants. I mumbled an acknowledgement and hurried to the privacy of the showers.

Now, I find myself once again pinned beneath my master's weight. But this time is much, much different. I'm twenty-one now, and I finally found the courage to confess my love to Qui-Gon just a few short tens ago. To my infinite relief, he welcomed my announcement, and me, with open arms.

We're in our bed now – our bed! – and Qui-Gon is about to enter me from behind. He's taken me this way before, but always cautiously, as if afraid I'd break like some fragile tolashell. Finally, I growled at him that I needed more, needed him to stop treating me like glass and fuck me, for Force sake! I watched hungrily as his pupils dilated. He growled, low in his throat like a wild beast, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine and straight to my cock.

I rolled to my knees, bracing myself on my forearms, with my ass presented to him. He prepared me quickly but thoroughly, but instead of kneeling up behind me, he draped himself over my back, using his full weight to drive me face down into our firm mattress.

He has me pinned now, his wrists gripping my wrists and spreading my arms wide. His knees have forced my thighs apart, and the tip of his erection is teasing at my anus.

I can't move, and I love the feeling of helplessness against his greater size and strength. He arches his hips, breaching me only slightly, and both of us groan at the sensation. I writhe, not seeking my freedom but only to test his grip, and he senses my need to struggle against him. He tightens his hold, another inch or so into me even as he squashes me further into the bed.

My cock, trapped beneath me, is leaking into the soft sheets. I grind myself down against it, seeking friction, then groan again as he sinks even further into my passage.

"Force, Qui, so good," I moan, giving up my struggle to rub myself off in favor of trying to push back into him.

His hold on me prevents me from doing either.

His mouth moves to the juncture of my neck and shoulder and he begins to kiss and nibble his way up to my ear, sending shivers of delight up and down my spine. He draws my earlobe into his mouth, sucking gently, before moving back down to my shoulder.

"Mine," he whispers against my skin, a moment before his teeth close on the corded muscle there like some great feral beast immobilizing his prey. Immediately, he thrusts all the way inside, still holding me down.

He feels even bigger this way, if such a thing is possible. The slight pain of his entry is quickly replaced by an all-consuming pleasure as he begins to move. In and out, his rhythm gradually speeds up until he is hammering into me, grunting with the effort.

"Yes!" I hear myself cry as he angles his strokes, rubbing the flared head of his cock against that sweet spot deep inside me. It takes only two more thrusts before I am coming, screaming out his name and soaking the mattress with my seed.

He drives in once, twice, three times more then goes suddenly still. A second later his gasp signals his own release, and I feel the hot spurt filling me.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. He rolls off of me at last, gathering me into his arms with a soft croon of affection.

"That was wonderful," I murmur.

"Yes," Qui-Gon agrees. "You always used to hate being pinned down. Now, I see that you quite enjoy it."

"Oh, yes." I twist to face him. "Do you remember what you told me when I was fourteen?"

He chuckles slightly. "I'm certain I told you quite a few things when you were fourteen."

I nod. "But I'm thinking of one thing in particular. You told me that even though I'd never beat you through size and strength alone, that I'd find other ways to win."

"I seem to recall saying that."

"Well, I did. But, instead of finding ways to avoid being in your arms, I learned that I belong here."

He gathers me even tighter in his hold. "Yes, my own. This is exactly where you belong."

Content and sated, I nuzzle into the damp hollow of his neck and give myself over to sleep.

The End