Qui-Gon's Treasure

by The Rose

Title: Qui-Gon's Treasure
Author: The Rose
Archive: M/A and my web site, http://www.sockiipress.org/~rose
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Category: Point of View, Romance, Qui/Obi
Warnings: First-person present tense. And, unbetaed.
Spoilers: Nope
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.
Summary: Qui recovers from Naboo in the arms of his bond-mate.

It is dark in the bedroom when I awaken, either very late or very early. Obi-Wan lies next to me, on his side as is his wont lately, one arm tucked beneath his pillow, the other outstretched across my chest, his hand over my heart.

It is a familiar position. It seems that he must forever be touching me lately, especially at night, ensuring that my heart still beats, my lungs still fill, that I am merely sleeping and have not become one with the Force. So it has been ever since my release from the Healers' Ward some fourteen tens ago.

My gaze cuts to Obi-Wan, as if afraid his has overheard my thoughts and will chide me for them. I was not released, he would remind me. Instead, I staggered back to these quarters with the Healers yapping and protesting behind me the entire way. But I had to, you see.

My Obi-Wan was here.

Sedated finally by the Healers and brought here on a floating bed, my newly Knighted Padawan had been beyond exhaustion. They tell me that he did not leave my side, neither eating nor sleeping, from the moment the Sith cut me down, despite repeated warnings and coercions and even threats. He sat vigil beside the bacta tank, took up residence in a chair by my bed, forever in the way and totally unrepentant. They eventually took matters into their own hands and knocked him out with a carefully hidden hypospray, depositing him here, in the center of my large bed.

How could I help but join him? Being separated from him was nearly as painful as the stab of that red lightsaber. Our bond has grown, fortified, morphed into something both beautiful and terrifying.

A life-bond, they say. And that, I think, more than anything, is why I lived. How could I surrender to the pain and oblivion when I knew, even in my drugged, unconscious state, that my death would drag Obi-Wan down, too?

I reach up slowly and cover his hand with mine. The warmth feels wonderful. My fingers and toes are forever cold now, it seems, though whether this is something that will mend itself in time or the result of some permanently impaired circulatory problems, I do not know. Nor do I care. As long as this treasure of the Light is beside me, very little else matters.

He smiles slightly in his sleep at my touch, shifting minutely closer, one naked thigh brushing my own, and I am immediately, painfully hard. At least one part of me still functions as the Force intended.

"G'morning," Obi-Wan murmurs, his voice sleep-dulled and entirely erotic, sending little frizzles of excitement along my damaged nerve endings.

"Scarcely morning, I'd say." I close my hand around his and draw it to my lips, kissing the tip of each of his fingers before drawing one into my mouth. The moan he makes is its own reward.

"Nice." He shifts again, his leg sliding across my hips, brushing against the underside of my erect shaft. I cannot help but arch into his warmth. "Needy, aren't you?" he asks, and I can hear the delight in his voice.

"For you? Always."

That finally opens his eyes, their color a dark smoky green, and he slides astride me, carefully avoiding the scar from the Sith's blade, though it no longer hurts, at least not on the surface, the only pain being a bone-deep ache beneath my ribs. He presses his body full length along mine, holding himself up on his elbows, and bends to capture my mouth with his own.

Oh, the taste of him! Sweetness like the first berries of spring, with a touch of tartness, blended together in a flavor that is uniquely him. Sheer ambrosia, and like a starving man I cannot get enough of it.

I pull him closer, one hand cupped around the back of his head, fingers sifting through his lengthening hair, while the other molds itself around his waist. He moans again as our cocks mate in a dance as old as time itself. I know I will not last long, so I vow to take him with me. My hand dips lower, past the delicious curve of hip to that secret place that belongs only to me.

He groans as I touch him there, torn between arching up into my fingers or grinding down against my cock. I end the conflict by plunging my middle finger deep within him.

Apparently, my hunger has fed his, for he comes almost instantly, his hot seed pulsing between us, bathing my own needy flesh. I gasp into his mouth as my climax follows, lifting my hips clear off the bed despite Obi-Wan's weight.

When I finally return to my senses, he is still lying across me, and the dancing humor in his eyes makes me smile.

"What?" I ask, my voice sounding hoarse as if I'd been exercising hard.

"You," he says, his grin finally appearing. "You're so easy."

"I'm so in love," I counter, and his expression softens.

"Love you, too."

I draw him down for another kiss, this one soft and sweet and long, and I feel the passion beginning to slowly rebuild between us, as was my intention. "I know," I say when I release his mouth. My cock is beginning to refill and thicken, squeezing itself into the sticky dampness between our bodies, and it feels wonderful. Even better is the feel of Obi-Wan's as it follows suit, sliding slickly along mine.

I grasp his shoulders and lift him upright until he is on his knees straddling me. I let my gaze travel the length of him, from kiss-swollen lips to nipples peaked in desire to his already half-erect cock. My glance seems to encourage it even more, and it stiffens as I watch, rising proudly up toward his chest.

My own is hard, as well, and arched up against Obi-Wan's body, nudging his balls. I encourage him to kneel up a bit more, and it slips past, seeking his center. Our eyes meet, and I hold his gaze as I reach behind him with both hands, grasping the firm globes of his ass and spreading them. My cock finds its target without assistance, and I cannot help but moan as Obi-Wan slowly lowers himself down onto it.

"Force, Qui," he whispers. His head is thrown back, the muscles in his neck corded, and I want nothing so much as to kiss him there. Well, perhaps there is one thing I want more, and I urge him to move, helping him as he rises up on trembling thighs before dropping back down onto me, harder and faster each time. He takes in my entire length, and the heat of his passage enflames me further.

I thrust up, or try to, but Obi-Wan, as usual, is clamping my hips with his knees and holding me largely immobile. He refuses to let me exert myself, even during our lovemaking, and at times it is infuriating. Now, however, at the peak of arousal, being controlled by him, dominated by him, is a heady sensation indeed.

"Faster!" I urge. "Please, love, faster!"

He obliges, reaching forward to entwine his fingers with mine, pressing my elbows down into the mattress and using my forearms to lever himself up. Time and again he rises and falls, drawing it out, torturing us both with deliciously denied release.

Finally, neither of us can sustain the moment, and I come, shouting his name to the heavens.

The response is almost instantaneous, and a keening moan announces Obi-Wan's own climax. It lasts a long time, as his pulsing cock releases ribbons of semen. His arms go limp, as do mine, and then I am gathering him to my chest again, too exhausted to do more than kiss him softly behind one ear.

As I sense him drifting off to sleep, the sweet song of the Force sings around me, promising a long and precious future with the treasure it has given me.

My treasure of the Light.

The End.