Under the Table

by Lorraine (Blucola@aol.com )

Archive: M_A, anyone who asks
Pairing: Q/O
Category: PWP, first time
Rating: R
Feedback: Treasured and adored
Disclaimer: Don't own them, doesn't stop me from playing with them!
Summary: Obi-Wan finds it hard to eat a meal in peace with Qui-Gon across the table from him.
Warning: A few silly puns. :)

He was having a complete meltdown. What else could explain the heat that flared inside of him every time he looked across the dinner table at Qui-Gon? It wasn't right, this was his Master, His teacher, his friend. Sexual thoughts and feelings could only complicate matters, change the dynamic of their relationship in new and somewhat frightening ways.

He had been having odd sexual thoughts about his Master all evening. The older man's slightest movements being unbearably erotic to Obi-Wan. Unwittingly, he had seduced his Padawan across the floor of the reception hall with nothing more than the few smiles and laughs directed at his companions.

Obi-Wan slid his suddenly clammy hands off of the table top and down underneath, to rest on his thighs. He felt trickles of sweat break out all over his body as his master indulged in a restrained throaty chuckle, obviously in reaction to the story his dinner partner had just shared. The sound of that voice, the husky timber of his laughter made Obi-Wan hard as a post.

'Oh, this would not do at all,' he thought. There was still at least the main course to get through and at the rate he was going, his body was going to betray him and make him come, long before dessert was served. 'There must be something in the drinks they've been serving.' He looked at the glowing purple liquid he'd been ingesting all evening and resolved not to finish his half full glass.

'Just have to wait for it to wear off.' He decided after he'd attempted to counter the effects of the drink by channeling his inebriation the Force, only to find himself stone cold sober, but still painfully aroused.

He looked over at Qui-Gon, who was chatting amiably with his dinner companions and carelessly running his fingers back and forth across the hilt of his his dinner knife. Those hands were so strong and capable, he mused, with long slender digits. An image came to his mind, unbidden. A fantasy involving those very same fingers reaching into his body and stretching tight muscles loose to make way for a massively thick phallus.

He bit his lip hard, hoping the pain would stop the moan that struggled to release itself from his throat. He managed to control it, but was completely incapable of stopping the fingers that reached under his tunic and into his leggings. Surreptitiously, he stroked the rigid member he found there.

The entire time he touched himself, he had his eyes on Qui-Gon. With all the control and training at his disposal, Obi-Wan sublimated his body's reactions into the Force, controlling his breathing and the flush that threatened to break out over the fair skin of his chest.

Qui-Gon eventually became aware of his padawan's intent stare. He sent out a wave of concern only to find it deflected off of firmly erected shields. His eyes ran over the slight form of his Padawan, trying to detect some sign of distress. 'There,' he thought, 'in the shoulders, a slight trembling. Is he sick?' Obi-Wan's lips parted and the pink tip of his tongue slipped out to wet dry lips. He looked like he was clenching his jaw for some unknown reason.

He looked on, terribly concerned at the state of his padawan. Others might miss the signs of distress, but not Qui-Gon Jinn. He had been watching and memorizing the reactions and emotions of this young man for years. It worried him to think that Obi-Wan was so far across the table, away from his touch. If he needed assistance, his Master wanted to be the one to give it to him.

A harsh breath pushed out of Obi-Wan's chest. Oh gods, he was so close. Qui-Gon was watching him and even if he didn't know what his padawan was up to, just the feel of the other man's eyes on him made the urge to come so much faster. Obi-Wan was now unable to completely control the jerking of his shoulders as he squeezed and yanked at his tender flesh. He wanted desperately to reach down and cup his balls, but knew that with that movement, with the necessity to bend forward just a little, his actions would be revealed to his Master.

A breathless moment seemed to stand in time as Obi-Wan found his release and understanding dawned in the eyes of his beloved Master. As he orgasmed, his shields faltered and the wave of lust and longing that was meant only for Qui-Gon Jinn went flooding across the room and hit the other man like a tidal wave of emotion. Now it was the Master's turn for his flesh to harden and thicken, because the revelation of Obi-Wan's intense feelings for him was most welcome. In fact, he'd despaired of the younger man ever reciprocating his own carefully hidden desire.

He skillfully slid a hand into his own leggings and down to the pressure point there beneath his scrotum. Within seconds he was flaccid and was able to get up out of his chair and make his way over to his mischievous padawan.

Obi-Wan watched him, his eyes wide with trepidation. 'Oh gods, what have I done?' He blinked back sudden tears, knowing that Qui-Gon would be furious. His padawan had pulled himself off in the middle of dining hall filled with dignitaries from all over the Republic. What was the punishment for that? Obi-Wan shuddered to think. He lowered his head in shame and cleaned himself off with his napkin.

Soft firm hands kneaded the flesh of his spare shoulders. Obi-Wan looked up and fell into the warm loving gaze of his Master. His breath caught as he was unable, momentarily, to breathe.

"Are you ready to leave, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, in a voice husky with love.

Obi-Wan nodded, quickly stuffing himself back into this leggings and pulling his tunics down as far as they would go. Qui-Gon pulled the chair out for the younger man and extended a hand to help him rise. Obi-Wan blushed and accepted it. Such solicitude had not gone unnoticed by the other diners. With a sigh, the Organian ambassador watched the two men leave. It was such a shame when a prime candidate was taken off the market.

The two men turned to each other the moment the doors to the dining hall were closed. "I'm sorry." Obi-Wan whispered.

"I'm not." Qui-Gon answered with an indulgent smile. "I might otherwise have never known your true feelings, you hide them so well."

"I might say the same of you." Obi-Wan pointed out with a smile of his own.

Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, "Then let me make my emotions perfectly clear now." He bent his head and claimed his padawan's lips in a deep soul shattering kiss. Obi-Wan staggered back when it ended. His Master grabbed onto his arm to keep him from falling.

Obi-Wan raised a shaking hand to his lips. "Something tells me we're not going to make it to the formal breakfast in the morning," he chuckled.

Qui-Gon's eyes glinted. "We will be there, but this time, it will be your turn to watch."

Obi-Wan gasped. "With supreme pleasure, my Master. With most supreme pleasure. Do you think they will serve that blue aphrodisiac again?" He grinned wickedly.

"Padawan, what makes you think I'm going to need one?" He laughed at the stunned look on Obi-Wan's face. "Let's go."

Wrapping their arms around each other they walked down the corridor and towards this new turn in their relationship.