Touched

by Sheryl

Title: Touched

Author: Sheryl

Pairing: Oh come on, you have to guess.

Category: MMoM challenge, a little angst

Rating: NC-17

Archive: MA

Feedback: Sure! squad51-st@mchsi.com

Disclaimers: George owns everything.

Summary: Umm...gee, masturbating? Okay, memories and masturbating.

Two months. It had been two long months since he'd last seen his lover, since he'd last been able to look into the enchanting eyes, feel the strength of his embrace, or hear the beloved voice whisper his name. Too long since he'd been granted the simple pleasures of touching and being touched by his lover. Far too long, thought Obi-Wan, as he gazed out the window, past the busy airways of the planet, to the distant stars beyond.

An image came to mind, of another time, long past, when he'd been caught up in the same type of lonesome melancholia. Sliding the robe from his shoulders, he draped it across the chair and climbed into bed, allowing himself to get lost in the memory, as well as the sensations.

Obi-Wan was alone in the dark room; only a stream of light through the window illuminated his master's bed, casting a glow over his naked flesh. It was the middle of the night and he'd been awakened by yet another dream. Awakened not from fear or dread, but from an aching need, an overwhelming desire to touch and be touched, to be fondled and have his body worshipped sensually, to feel the warm caress of hands and mouth stroking and tasting the most erogenous parts of his body.

Oh, how he missed his master.

With a low groan, he slid one hand across his chest, pressing his fingertips into the pectoral muscles, subconsciously feeling a bit of satisfaction at their firmness. Slowly, he massaged his way around until his fingers encountered the slightly different textured skin of his nipples. There, he allowed his fingertips to glide in circles, stroking gently over the nubs, then pressing down firmly on them.

It felt good, but he needed more.

Seemingly of its own accord, the hand that had been laying flat upon his abdomen now moved down further, the fingers raking lightly through the crisp hairs at his groin. He let his thighs fall apart and slid the hand down the crease at his hip, then moved it over to tease at his scrotum.

Gods, how he wished the hand that was touching him, bringing him this pleasure, was not his own. In his mind's eye, he invoked an image of his master propped on an elbow, lying beside him, glorious and nude, his long hair draped over his shoulder, the ends of it dusting Obi-Wan's skin while his large, strong hands touched him, knowingly caressed his most intimate places.

Qui-Gon had been gone for two weeks, negotiating on a planet where 'children' were not even allowed to speak in public, let alone attend formal negotiating sessions. And, Obi-Wan had missed his master, his touch, his voice, had missed his strength and presence more than he'd ever admit to in the light of day. Only in the night, in the privacy of their quarters, did he allow himself to acknowledge the aching need he felt for his master.

He moved his hand upward, wrapping his fingers loosely around his hard sex, stroking lightly, pausing to slide his thumb over the tip, through the slickness, then circling around the ridge. It felt so good, too good and he didn't want it to be over, he wanted to draw the pleasure out, so he retraced the path, moving his hand back again, down the rigid shaft to squeeze with just enough pressure to stop himself from going over the edge too soon..

There, he stilled for a moment, hoping to regain some control over his mind and body, trying to calm his ragged breathing. It was then that he was startled to realize he was no longer alone.

His first instinct was to apologize and slink away to hide; after all, he was in his master's bed, quite naked on his master's sheets and engaging in an activity that was usually done in the privacy of ones own room. But while he could feel his master's strong presence in the force all around him, Obi-Wan could detect no ill feelings, in fact quite the opposite, Qui-Gon seemed to be intrigued by the sight of his padawan, openly displayed on his bed.

And then to his astonishment he realized that Qui-Gon was not only intrigued, but also aroused, not only from the wanton actions of his padawan, but also from the fact that Obi-Wan was imagining that it was he, Qui-Gon, whose hand was touching, teasing and stroking the younger man in passion.

The very realization that his master was allowing Obi-Wan to detect his arousal, that he wasn't shielding it from him, renewed and intensified his passion, stoking the flames of his desire to a blazing, searing temperature. He pulled his knees up, dropping them to the each side, opening himself for his master's view. One palm slid over his balls and he began fingering the area behind his scrotum while the other hand slowly, firmly stroked his erection, the motion made slick and smooth by the moisture gathered from the tip with each upward stroke.

He'd wanted to make it last, but now that he knew his master was in the room, could feel him watching intently, Obi-Wan couldn't seem to inhibit the growing, spreading warmth radiating from his center and threatening to burst every atom in his body, melt every molecule of his being. He bit his lip, saw flecks of light dancing before his eyes, felt his body arching, straining for release, then nearly exploding from the intensity as the orgasm ripped through him. From somewhere he heard a shout, the sound muffled by the amplified ringing in his ears.

He was vaguely aware of the familiar hands stroking his hair, the beloved voice murmuring softly to him, a cool blanket being tucked around his shoulders.

"Master," he whispered moments later, when he finally was able to find his voice. He wondered if maybe he should go back to his own bed, worried that his master might feel uncomfortable having his padawan sleeping nude beside him, but he was so tired that he couldn't even seem to open his eyes.

"Shh...my Obi-wan. I am home now. Everything is fine." He felt lips brush against his forehead, then, "Sleep now, Padawan." And whenever his master said the words 'sleep, Padawan', there was not even a slim chance of objecting.

"Beautiful, so beautiful, " the voice whispered as Obi-Wan became aware of the hard, masculine body that had insinuated itself between his legs, felt the warm hand placed firmly on his abdomen and the soft, wet tongue lapping trails across his belly.

"Bail," he groaned, reaching down to pet the dark, silky hair and feeling himself growing aroused again under his lover's attentive ministrations.

"Hmm...if this is what I have to look forward to as a welcome home, I may have to go away more often." With a low chuckle, he blew a cool waft of breath across the moistened skin and watched Obi-Wan shiver, then moan and spread his legs further apart. "Miss me?"

"Oh Gods."

"Yes, I have been called that by some," Bail said with a grin. "I believe you, in fact, have referred to me as such, on several occasions."

"Bail, please..."

At the plaintive tone of his lover's voice, Bail crawled up, encompassing Obi-Wan's body, using the weight of his own body as an anchor, he pressed his mouth to Obi-Wan's, sliding tongue past lips to kiss him deeply. "Shhh...my love. I'm home now," he whispered, pulling back for only that instant. "Everything's fine."

~ end