Series: Fourth and final story in the "Seasons" series, after
"Autumn", "Winter", and "Spring". Webpage: the bare skeleton of
one is at: http://www.geocities.com/monaram/
Rating: NC-17.
Warnings: Explicit slash (m/m) content.
Archive: Yes to StarWarsfic, M_A, or anyone else who might want
it.
Notes: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault
and the fault of my *#^&@ spellcheck. ** is used for
emphasis, // for thought. Any weird characters should be hunted
down and killed.
Feedback: Yes if you're moved to write me by the story, no if
you think that unless you write me, I won't write any
more stories. Anyone with even a glancing knowledge of my
posting history (this is my 400-and-something-th story)
knows that isn't true. Feedback is gratefully accepted and
responded to whenever possible. Flames are buried in the
backyard, along with a few skeletons.
Spoilers: No.
Summary: On a diplomatic mission, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan find
themselves affected by the heat.
{I could not for the life of me think of anything to write for
this final story, so I gave up and wrote nothing. I have
deliberately not given an age to the character of the guide,
thus letting you use your own imagination for that. This is set
a few years after "Spring"; picture Qui-Gon in his late fifties
(just before TPM), and Obi-Wan in his early twenties.}
The boy's back was smooth and tan, all of the muscles in his
tall, lean frame clearly visible in rippling shifts under his
skin as he walked. The fact that he wasn't sweating at all led
Obi-Wan to believe that the heat didn't affect him. It wasn't
surprising; he was a native of this planet, had lived here all
of his life in a nomadic group, and so was quite oblivious to
the blazing sun and the relentless heat. The fact that he wore
only the simplest of garments around his waist and suffered no
reddening of his skin, which was merely turning a slightly
deeper golden brown, contributed to Obi-Wan's belief that he
thrived in this sort of weather.
They had left the dusty road some twenty minutes before, and
were now making their way through a field of tall, dry grasses.
There were a few stubby trees scattered around, far to the
sides and ahead in the distance, but other than that, no shade
at all. Obi-Wan could feel his tunic sticking to his back and
releasing slightly with every step, only to re-adhere to his
damp skin. It was no better in the front, and the sweat was
beginning to trickle down his thighs. The backs of his knees
were wet, and it was only the fact that the tall grasses made
the ground a little more bearable that he didn't remove his
tall boots and walk barefoot, as the boy did. He'd already
rolled up the sleeves of his tunic, even though the dry grasses
scratched at him uncomfortably. It was better than sweating to
death.
They had been walking in silence for almost an hour; Obi-Wan
wondered if the boy considered the Jedi too lofty - or too far
beneath him - to speak to, or if he was simply conserving his
energy. Perhaps he didn't realize that they had taken some
pains to gain at least a conversational grasp on his language,
and had spent the two weeks prior to the trip immersing
themselves in the ritual and custom of the people. Whatever the
reason, the guide walked along with unflagging and quiet
enthusiasm, which made Obi-Wan think perhaps he was being
respectful of his employers, instead. It wouldn't do for the
visiting Jedi to suffer heat-stroke and die on their way to a
diplomatic mission, and surely talking would be another tax on
his already-protesting body. He took a deep breath, and tried
to think cold thoughts. He had learned early on in his studies
that disassociation worked nicely for pain; perhaps it would
work for extremes of temperature, as well.
He tried not to look at his Master; just the thought of Qui-Gon
made Obi-Wan sweat even harder. Whereas he had removed his
cloak and rolled it into a tight bundle and slung it over one
shoulder ten minutes into this walk, Qui-Gon was still
enveloped deep in the folds of his own cloak. It had been an
effective deterrent from the ruthless blaze of sunlight
directly on his skin, true, but Obi-Wan could not help but
think that it had to be almost unbearably hot in there. But
Qui-Gon betrayed no discomfort. He didn't even appear to be
sweating, which only served to make Obi-Wan hotter, by
contrast. It was best simply not to look at him.
They continued to walk along in silence. Obi-Wan mopped his
damp forehead with the wet sleeve of his tunic, serving only to
transfer the sweat from one place to another, not get rid of
it. He shielded his eyes with his hands and looked off in the
distance; the city they were travelling to would surely be seen
long before they came upon it, in this almost-flat country. He
saw nothing, except more tall, golden grass and stunted trees;
the view seemed the same no matter what direction he looked.
There were no birds, and no insects, either; all animal life on
this planet seemed to have the good sense not to travel during
the hottest part of the day.
All except they three, that is. Obi-Wan shifted the pack to his
other shoulder, and tried to think of something cold.
He opened his canteen half an hour or more later, took a
swallow of lukewarm water and offered it silently to Qui-Gon,
who accepted it and took a drink, before handing it to their
guide, who also took a token sip, handed it back to Obi-Wan,
and continued walking. Obi-Wan screwed the cap back on and
tucked the canteen back into its place in his pack. They had
plenty of water for the walk, and some food, on the off-chance
that something happened and they could not reach the city
before nightfall. They had been assured that it was no more
than an eight-hour walk - perhaps ten, allowing for the fact
that the Jedi were unfamiliar with the terrain and unused to
walking so far in such heat. It was only because they were both
in exceptionally good shape that their temporary hosts had been
persuaded to lend them a young man as guide and see them off at
all, with a few warnings about the heat and other dangers.
Grass-fires were not uncommon at this time of year and they
kept their eyes open for tell-tale smoke.
A birdsong made Obi-Wan look up, suddenly, directly into the
bright glare of the sun. He blinked and shielded his eyes
again, and it came once more - the call of a single bird. He
looked at Qui-Gon, who looked back at him and nodded. The fact
that there was a bird here meant one thing: they had to be near
water.
Obi-Wan looked down, blinking his eyes rapidly. Only then did
he notice that the ground seemed to be softer, here, and the
grasses weren't so yellow; there were patches of green in
places, and tiny mites which buzzed close to the ground.
Although they had ample supplies with them, he was happy to see
the evidence of water; it made him feel safe, somehow, and
grounded, like nothing could hurt them.
The dry grasses gave way to hardier reeds as the ground became
more and more marshy, and Obi-Wan's boots made sucking,
squishing noises every time he lifted his feet. And then - it
was suddenly in front of them: a green pool of water, not large
and probably not very deep, but nevertheless inviting, with a
few small trees at one edge, surrounded and hidden by the tall
reeds and grass. Obi-Wan stared at it, and looked at his
Master, and at the straight back of their guide, wondering.
Before he had a chance to ask, the boy stripped off his white
breech-cloth and waded, very carefully, into the water. He
stood hip deep, then turned and flashed a broad grin at the two
men who were still standing, watching him, and fell back into
the water.
It was all the invitation that Obi-Wan needed. He grinned, and
started to undress, hanging his clothes from a branch of one of
the trees. When he was naked, he too waded out into the
surprisingly warm water. The bed of the pool was mud, and his
toes sank down into it and churned the clear water to murk, so
he slid into a smooth dive, propelling himself halfway across
the pool. He ducked his head under the clear water, looking for
signs of life, and then turned his head back towards shore.
There he saw Qui-Gon remove his cloak and hang it from a branch
on the same tree where Obi-Wan's clothing was carelessly
scattered. Obi-Wan saw the wetness on the back of his Master's
tunic, and realized that his cool exterior did not really mean
that he was unaffected by the heat. He would not complain,
however, especially not when there was nothing that could be
done to alleviate the situation. Obi-Wan watched the play of
pale skin and muscle as his Master stripped, and then ducked
under the water when Qui-Gon walked into the pool. Obi-Wan felt
the ripples underwater when Qui-Gon dived in.
Obi-Wan stayed under the water a very long time, until he felt
as though his lungs might burst. Their guide was standing again
in the waist-deep water, and watching him; Obi-Wan wondered if
he could not swim, and therefore stayed upright and safe, or if
perhaps the small water-snakes that slithered in the pool
worried him. Obi-Wan was sure that they were harmless; they
seemed too tiny to be dangerous, although he kept his eyes
open, just in case. Gradually, he realized that his entire body
was cooling and becoming refreshed. Surely they had only
travelled halfway to their destination, however, and would soon
have to leave this oasis and return to the blistering trail. He
determined to swim until the water seeped into his meditations,
and he could remember exactly how this felt for the rest of the
way to the city. That in mind, he dove under the water again,
staying still longer, feeling light-headed and almost giddy
when he finally surfaced.
Turning back towards the trees, Obi-Wan opened his mouth to
speak, but words died on his lips when he saw Qui-Gon. His
Master was floating lazily on his back, eyes closed and arms
outstretched, the sunlight glinting off the water on his
powerful body, toes and soft penis floating just above the
surface of the water. Obi-Wan turned his head a little more and
saw the boy, also watching; their eyes met for just an instant
before the boy flashed another broad smile, and moved smoothly
through the water towards Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan stilled, waiting for his Master to react to the kiss he
was given. Gradually, and without breaking the kiss, Qui-Gon's
arms came towards his side, and his eyes opened; Obi-Wan
watched as the two men stared at each other, and then Qui-Gon
stood, the surface of the water striking him at mid-thigh.
Side-by-side, they were a study in contrasts. Qui-Gon was far
taller than the youth, broad and muscular, his hair was long
and tinged with gold and silver, and his skin was several
shades paler, as well, tanned only in a 'v' on his chest where
his tunic would open, and on his hands and face. The young
guide, in comparison, seemed almost slight, although he too was
tall and all lean muscle; his sun-kissed golden skin seemed
even darker when he placed his hand on Qui-Gon's bare chest,
and his short-cropped hair seemed almost white in contrast, it
was so pale. There was a question in that gentle touch, and
Obi-Wan held his breath without realizing it, wondering what
the answer to that question would be.
He did not have to wait long. Qui-Gon grasped the boy's hand
and hesitated, still holding it flat against his chest, but his
head dipped down and he took the boy's mouth in a deep kiss.
Obi-Wan watched his Master's tongue flicker over their guide's
lips, and then inside his mouth, and he shivered, a sharp ache
of desire travelling the length of his spine. He wanted to move
but dared not, for fear that one of them would stop this
seduction if he did so; even so, he did not know where that
fear came from - they both knew that he was watching. The boy's
golden-lashed eyes even sought Obi-Wan's eyes out, as if his
presence there was necessary, as if they needed a witness.
They turned, together, so that Qui-Gon faced the shore, his
back to Obi-Wan, who was almost kneeling in the water, so that
only his head and neck was above the surface. He watched the
rippled muscles of his Master's back as the young man's hands
travelled over it, from his neck to his buttocks, and he
shivered in a sort of erotic sympathy. He could not see where
Qui-Gon's hands were, but he supposed they were reciprocating
in kind. Obi-Wan knew from experience that Qui-Gon was a gentle
and giving lover; they had made love several times in the past
few years, out of loneliness or the need to renew a strained
connection, or just to convince themselves that they were still
alive. Never before had he actually watched his Master make
love, however; anywhere but here it would have seemed the
height of intrusion. Here, Obi-Wan did not even think to turn
away. It did not hurt him to watch; on the contrary, he was
fascinated, aroused, and intrigued.
Obi-Wan barely noticed his own hands moving over his body,
touching himself in a long-familiar pattern of self-love. He
resisted wrapping his hands over his already-swelling cock,
however, needing this delicate arousal to last as long as his
partners' erotic dance continued. He found himself mimicking on
his own body the boy's touches on his Master, rubbing his
fingertips over his own lips and over the muscles of his
stomach, tweaking his nipples and caressing his neck. Qui-Gon's
mouth was buried in the hollow of the boy's neck, and his hands
were tight on the lean thighs, tight enough to make marks that
would not show on the dark-golden skin; when his tongue flicked
a bead of sweat that dripped down the young man's chest,
Obi-Wan had to bite his lower lip to muffle his moans.
They moved together in tandem. Obi-Wan could tell when his
Master's cock brushed against the boy's, because his buttocks
would flex and release again. His thighs were taut, his knees
locked to hold himself up in the water, and not fall and bring
them both down. They did not seek to possess; this spontaneous
lovemaking seemed to consist mainly of touches and kisses - of
mutual giving.
Finally, the boy turned in Qui-Gon's arms, and turned him
slightly, as well, so that they stood in profile in front of
Obi-Wan. The boy settled back against Qui-Gon's chest, brushing
his back over erect nipples, letting Qui-Gon's cock nestle
between his buttocks. Qui-Gon's large hands drifted down the
boy's stomach, and took hold of his erect cock in a firm grip.
Then they started to move once again, Qui-Gon pressing his cock
against the young man's skin, and simultaneously stroking the
boy's cock in rhythm. The guide rested his head back on
Qui-Gon's chest, and closed his eyes. Obi-Wan kept his open,
but stood and reached for his own cock, which jutted up out of
the water. Soon, all three were moving together in time.
The boy was the first to come; Obi-Wan watched the pearly-white
spray of his come as it flew from his cockhead and landed in
the water, some dripping down Qui-Gon's hand. The boy craned
his neck and reached with his left arm to grasp Qui-Gon's neck;
his mouth met Qui-Gon's as the older man came, shooting come up
against the boy's back. They kissed for a long time, even while
Obi-Wan brought himself to a gasping climax and then kicked off
with his shaking legs and dove back under the water, swimming
as far as he could, until he had to surface and shake the water
off of himself and breathe again. He rubbed his hands over his
face to brush away the water, and found his Master and the boy
had abandoned the pool and were once again on land, dressing in
silence.
Obi-Wan waded through the water, stepping lightly through the
mud to where his clothes lay. He unfurled his cloak and dried
himself off the best that he could with it, but the material
was not absorbent and he was still very damp when he again
pulled on his clothing. Very soon they were all dressed - the
boy in his minimal breech-cloth, Qui-Gon swathed deep in the
folds of his cloak. He nodded at the boy and the guide led them
in a wide berth around the pond, until the ground was dry and
the grasses were golden and they were headed once again for the
city. The entire rest break could not have taken much more than
half an hour.
They did not speak for the rest of the walk into town. It did
not take long for Obi-Wan's hair to dry in the blazing
sunshine, and the drips down the back of his neck to turn from
pond-water to sweat again, but he could not be entirely sure
whether it was from the sun, the exercise, or the powerfully
erotic images of his two companions which were still fresh in
his mind.
The guide left them when they reached the outskirts of the
city, and headed immediately back to join the rest of his
nomadic clan. They exchanged bows and smiles but said nothing,
and then they were once again thrust back into their roles as
Jedi, and deeply involved in the diplomatic duties which were
the reason for their trip to this planet.
It was coincidence that Obi-Wan found himself seated next to an
elderly native story-teller at dinner the next night, and heard
a legend about an ancient ritual to ensure bountiful rains and
plentiful crops on this sun-drenched planet, one involving the
returning of seed to the water, from whence all life came. For
the rest of the trip - and for a long time afterwards - Obi-Wan
would wonder if his Master knew about this ritual, or if
something else even more primitive had drawn him into the young
guide's arms.
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