Storms II: Snows

by Kass (kassxf@aol.com)

Category: PWP, Angst, Smut

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of George Lucas and IL&M. No profit is being made here.

Summary: Second story in the "Storms" series, following "Lightning"

Trudging along behind Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan kept his head down, so that the hood of his furlined coat protected his eyes somewhat. Trapped in a snowstorm on Freya was not his idea of a good time, but he'd managed to bite back complaints, knowing that they had to find shelter.

Qui-Gon's broader, taller self protected him from the worst of it, which was Qui-Gon's aim in taking the lead, he was sure. He'd protested at first, taken his turn at breaking through the snow, but when he'd tired, Qui-Gon had silently, and firmly, insisted he follow.

He was beyond protesting now. His feet were numb. His hands were almost numb. His face, despite the warm wool pulled across his face below his eyes, was almost numb. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw endless white, and not just from the snow on the ground. The snow was falling fast and hard enough to make an almost solid wall of white, and he could see it already building up in the tracks they'd left.

He swallowed hard. It was starting to be more than inconvenient, it was starting to be downright scary, and he was glad that Qui-Gon knew where he was going. Or so Qui-Gon had assured him, and he'd never known his master to lie to him purely to reassure.

He was still surveying the landscape when Qui-Gon stopped, stumbled into his master and fell into the snow. Muscles unused to bitter cold, protested, he had to let Qui-Gon help him to his feet.

"Here," Qui-Gon told him, his face close to Obi-Wan's, his voice muffled by the wool he wore over his face. The wind whipped the word away, he leaned closer. "We climb here, Obi-Wan."

He blinked, looked up at the rocks they faced. Felt his heart sink a little, but nodded.

Qui-Gon's eyes were worried, questioning. "Can you make it?"

He had to. Another nod and he followed Qui-Gon up, stepping with extra care because of his hands and feet, gripping as tightly as he could to navigate the tricky spots. Qui-Gon seemed to be as surefooted as a mountain goat, waited for him, assisted him when he hesitated.

They climbed higher, the hill seemed endless, like something out of the trials, he kept his eyes focused on Qui-Gon and nearly fell.

Strong arms steadied him. "We're almost there, Padawan." Calmly. "Stay with me, use the Force."

He was shivering inside the layers he wore. "Yes, master."

A long look and suddenly, Qui-Gon's arm was around his waist, lifting him up, slowly and carefully and he felt a fool and a failure, but swiftly they were under an overhang, cut off from the worst of the wind. He leaned against his master, breathing hard. "S-s-s-sorry, Master."

"You were born on a warmer world, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him quietly. "And we have not spent a great deal of time in this kind of weather."

He nodded, tucked his hands under his arms. "If I were better at handling the Force--"

"You would be the master and I the Padawan." But he could hear the smile in Qui-Gon's voice. "We've only a little farther, and we're going there together."

He shivered and nodded, let himself be guided back into the wind, which seemed almost worse for having the brief respite.

Qui-Gon guided him, staying close, and suddenly, they were out of the wind again, in the narrow mouth of a cave. It narrowed further, but Qui-Gon kept going forward, turned, tugging him along and then, oh, blessedly, it was almost warm.

Not quite. But warmer by far than outside.

Stupid with cold, he stood shivering in the near dark, until Qui-Gon retrieved a light, shone it on the walls of the cave. "Ah, yes, just as I remembered it." Arm around his waist again, and he managed to walk clumsily over the rock floor, down into what seemed to be a large, bowl of a depression in the rock, and it was warmer.

He suddenly wanted nothing more than sleep, sat down where he stood, too exhausted to move. Felt Qui-Gon's fingers freeing him of the pack, blinked in confusion when Qui-Gon pulled out the glowlights and set them out in the depression, revealing stalactites and stalagmites in delicate profusion just beyond the depression. Out of the stone wall some distance away, came a spring, bubbling down to the center of the bowl, where there was a bubbling pool, that ; he processed that, realized that it must be the source of the warmth and closed his eyes again.

Felt himself slipping under, muzzy and comfortable and....

A sharp tap to his cheek made him jump. Qui-Gon was unbundling him from his clothes. "Don't sleep yet, Obi-Wan." Worriedly.

"But I'm tired." Almost whining, he realized in horror, and what kind of voice was that for someone of twenty one? "I'm sorry, Master."

His coat came off, he felt the chill through his tunic and undertunic and began to shiver.

Ruthlessly, Qui-Gon stripped him of remaining clothes, including boots that did not wish to be removed. He made a sound of complaint, was lifted to feet that felt like blocks of ice.

Qui-Gon, too, was naked. How this had escaped him, he could not imagine, and it seemed grossly unfair that Qui-Gon should be holding him like this at a time when he couldn't properly appreciate it.

The hot water was a shock. He yelped, was held firmly by strong arms, even as his feet began to hurt. "Master, that hurts!"

"Shhhh," Qui-Gon held him still, held him close. "I know, I'm sorry, but you must stay here for a while." Almost crooning to him. "It's all right, it won't hurt as much soon."

He wasn't entirely sure he believed that, but oh, it was nice to be held so, more than nice, and the water felt so good on the parts that hadn't been numb. "Oh." Taking in a breath. Wide awake suddenly. "Oh, that feels good."

"That's better." Shaky chuckle in his ear. "Your core temperature was dropping, my love. You had me very worried."

He let himself float, held in place by arms that he had dreamt of. "I'm sorry."

"No reason to be sorry, I should have realized that you were in trouble." A nuzzle, a kiss beneath his ear. "That's it, just relax, let me hold you."

He let his head fall back on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "Oh, that's nice." Muzzily. Hot water lapped at his shoulders, at his throat. "Mmmm, makes it almost worth that snowstorm."

Gentle nip on his shoulder. "I'll have to check for frostbite," Qui-Gon teased him.

"Mmmm, can I check you, too?" Teasing back.

"When you can feel your feet again." Another nibble, this time on his throat.

He shifted to face Qui-Gon, laughing a little as his master insisted on holding onto him. Stole a kiss, and was kissed in return. Not with heat, with tenderness, and he was content to rest his head on Qui-Gon's shoulder again, the mineral rich water tickling his nose.

"We'll stay here until the storm passes," Qui-Gon murmured and stroked his back. "We've got supplies enough for a few days."

The hot water was lulling him. "A few days alone with you, without any responsibilities, nobody needing you, nothing to worry about." He felt delirious, almost giggled.

"Hedonist." Teasing voice again. "How are your feet?"

"Tingling." He felt almost drunk. "A lot."

Soft chuckle. "Good. That's a good thing." Another kiss. "Hold on to the side, I'm going to get the heater started."

"You think of everything," he mourned and held on to the rock side, still floating, admiring the view, swiftly cut off when Qui-Gon pulled on breeches and tunic.

In very little time, his master had the packs opened and unloaded, spreading out their bedding with the heater set up nearby, glowing bright blue.

Then, and only then, he came back to the pool with a blanket. "How are your feet?"

"Tingly." As Qui-Gon leaned down, Obi-Wan lifted his face for a kiss. His feet were definitely tingling, he reached up a hand to pulled himself out, found himself tugged up and into Qui-Gon's arms, carried to their bedding--fortunately nearby--and laid down as if he were as delicate as porcelain.

"I'm fine, honestly," he laughed, smiling up at Qui-Gon's face.

"Good." Qui-Gon's mouth curved slightly. "But you will forgive me if I make certain of it." A warm kiss, tongue sweeping over Obi-Wan's lips to part them.

He made a sound in his throat, wound his arms around Qui-Gon's neck happily, welcoming the weight that rested on him. But Qui-Gon drew back, fingers moving through his hair, head dipping and warm lips capturing his earlobe, gentle suction that made him squirm, warm tongue running over the curve of his ear. Then, when he was sure that matters would proceed, his other ear.

A kiss on the tip of his nose. "That seems fine," Qui-Gon murmured and kissed his throat, brief nip on his jaw. "And there, that's healthy, no frostbite there."

He shivered, but not with cold. "Oh, good." A little breathlessly.

His arms were given the same attention, nips and kisses, especially in the hollow of his elbow, the tips of his fingers were gently nipped and sucked and he arched up Qui-Gon's weight, writhing underneath it as the sweet torture continued. His other arm, and then his chest, with especial attention to his nipples. They were sharp points of fire, traveling in a straight line to his groin; he was fully aroused, his shaft rubbing against the fabric of Qui-Gon's breeches.

"Shhhhh," Qui-Gon murmured, running warm hands over his ribs, gentle nip to his navel. "I need to be sure."

"I'm sure, does that count?" Plaintively.

Warm breath on his belly made him shudder again. "No, I think not. I have greater experience with these things."

He whimpered. His thighs were stroked, kissed, his calves, and his feet were gentle caressed, a kiss placed in the instep of each. "Very good, your toes are nice and pink."

It didn't sound particularly alluring, but the warmth of the statement penetrated. "I told you." Plaintively.

"Shhh." Qui-Gon moved up again, kissed his belly, gathering the blankets and bedding around him. "Are you warm enough?"

If he got any warmer, he'd spontaneously combust. He put his arms back around Qui-Gon's neck. "I'm quite warm."

"Good." A long kiss. A luxurious kiss. He let himself drown in it, drown in the sensuality and comfort and oh, the love he could feel radiating along their link. "Oh, don't stop," he begged, when Qui-Gon drew back.

Eyes dark with desire, Qui-Gon caressed his inner thigh. "I'm not going to. I want to make sure that you're very, very warm."

"I am." But to no avail, the kisses moved down his throat again, down to his chest, his belly, skirted his arousal--making him whimper again and reach down--and to his inner thigh.

But even the nerves there were now sensitized, he moaned as Qui-Gon sucked hard at the pale, smooth skin there, moaned again as the other thigh was likewise marked. Gasped as he felt strong fingers spread him open and a warm tongue swept inside the cleft of his buttocks, up to stroke under the tightening flesh. Oh, he thought, dazed, let his legs fall open, and a warm mouth closed over it briefly. His capacity for thought took flight, he made wordless pleading sounds intended to convince Qui-Gon that he was very warm indeed.

But that tormenting mouth moved up again, teased the tip of him, tasting him, and then enveloping him all the way down. Wonderful and terrible and he threaded his fingers through the long, unbound hair, whimpering and fast losing any control over his body that he had learned as a Jedi apprentice.

An oil-slick finger slid inside him, completing the meltdown of brain and will, he nearly screamed as a lightning bolt of pleasure wrenched his nerves, arched up heedlessly, hips thrusting into that warmth and wetness and came hard, trying to call out Qui-Gon's name and failing utterly.

Colors behind his eyelids and when it passed, Qui-Gon's mouth, gentle again, was still pleasuring sensitive flesh, he whimpered and tried to tug his master up again, failed and surrendered to the pleasure until he was hard again, aching, but without the urgency he'd had before.

Only then did Qui-Gon move up, slow kisses, nips, gentle sucking on bits of him and he felt as if all his bones had just turned to water, had melted with the last of the storm's chill, finally won a small victory when Qui-Gon reached his mouth and kissed him hard, letting him taste himself.

He wound his arms around his lover's neck, wrapped his legs around his lover's hips, pressing upward against the hardness that met his own. It was the only unfairness he felt in their age difference; Qui-Gon could drive him crazy twice as often as he could be driven, and despite Jedi control of the flesh, was usually content to let these matters happen naturally.

"I'm very warm," he finally gasped, when Qui-Gon's breathing was as rapid and ragged as his own. "Oh, please--"

"Yes, beloved," Qui-Gon murmured and slid a hand down his body, fingers still slippery with oil, slid them into him carefully, pleasure and preparation at once and he pushed back into those fingers, bit the tendon in Qui-Gon's shoulder lightly.

Husky laughter and another kiss and Qui-Gon shifted to kneel between his legs, drew them up over his shoulders. Spread and opened and filled him, and oh, Force, it was good, it was more than good, and he tried to pull Qui-Gon into him, but his lover was having none of that.

"No hurry, love," he murmured and eased all the way in, his fingers closing around Obi-Wan's shaft. "No hurry at all."

He wasn't going to control this, he let go of any desire to do so and surrendered again, arching up again and again, slow thrusting at first, the slick fingers that grasped him, and felt Qui-Gon's pleasure, the pleasure of being clasped in hot flesh.

It was like double vision, almost, and it was so hard to resist the desire to hurry, to push it, even though making it last was incredible; he could feel what his lover felt, twinned pleasures that made him feel faint, almost detached from the flesh that transmitted the pleasure, felt Qui-Gon open to him, felt fierce passion and devotion and affection and desire, all blended with sensation until he couldn't hold back.

He could hear himself distantly making sounds, heard Qui-Gon's harsh rasp of breath, felt drops of sweat fall from his lover's chest, run down to pool in his navel and then he went over the edge, screaming in earnest this time.

Pleasure twinned still, he felt Qui-Gon's orgasm follow his own, could have sworn he came again, but was too breathless to manage more than a hoarse cry. Lost track of when and where and who he was, came back to find Qui-Gon leaning over him, kissing his eyelids, his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, big hands stroking him from neck to hips, murmuring to him.

"Oh." Dazed and he put his arms around Qui-Gon again. "What did you do to me?"

Slow sweet smile. "Taught you the value of patience, my Obi-wan."

If that was what patience brought, he thought, letting himself be wiped clean, he was all in favor of learning it.

And as he was firmly, comfortably held, the bedding pulled over them both, he thought it might be rather nice if this snow lasted for a good, long while.

End