Category: PWP. Crossover. A piece of fluff and smut in the
Stargate Jedi series.
Summary: The Jedi's first Valentine on Earth.
Archive: M_A, Rauhnee's archive list, my page
http://www.shadowynd.com/~elaynas_den/index.html
Feedback: Is better than champagne and roses.
Dedicated To: All my listsibs at Escapade, who provided truly
inspirational ambiance while I was finishing this story.
Thanks to my amazing archivist Rauhnee for the beta. I fuss
until the moment of posting, so all mistakes are mine.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to the great George Lucas, Stargate
SG-1 to Double Secret Productions, Gekko, Showtime, MGM,
whomever.
Obi-Wan Kenobi drove the twisty mountain roads with careless
ease, his hands sure and capable on the steering wheel of Sam's
Toyota. He winced as the tires squealed while accelerating out
of a curve and promptly slowed his speed. He hadn't expected to
miss flying so much while stationed on Earth. The superb
responsiveness of a fighter reacting to his touch, soaring
through space under his command. Cars simply didn't compare,
particularly not four door automatics.
Maybe he should ask around, see if anyone owned a sports car he
could borrow for an occasional drive. He certainly wouldn't ask
Daniel. Through their accidental bonding, he regarded the
scientist virtually as a brother, closer to him than any person
except Qui-Gon. In some ways, he had little in common with
Daniel, he thought, cringing at the memories of the dilapidated
vehicles owned by the scientist, cars bought for their cheap
price and reliability more than power, immediately sold when
the chance to work on a dig appeared.
Catching sight of the exit he needed, he flicked on his turn
signal and turned off the highway. He checked the map again,
continuing to follow the directions for several more miles
before arriving at a small collection of cabins nestled in the
forest.
He pulled to a stop in front of Number 14, taking a last
opportunity to check his appearance in the rear view mirror,
brushing his hands through his short hair. He wasn't vain about
his looks, but Qui-Gon had taught him the importance of
neatness in presenting a dignified appearance. Even more vital,
he had seen himself through Qui-Gon's eyes, through their
mental contact, and knew how much his mate enjoyed looking at
him.
Stepping out of the car, he smoothed the line of his black
dinner jacket before leaning back in to grab the single red
rose from the passenger seat. Waking this morning, he had found
himself alone, only this rose and the small map on the pillow
beside him, the new suit hanging in his closet. He smiled,
breathing deeply of the rose's fragrance. It was February 14,
their first Valentine on this planet, and Qui-Gon had promised
him a memorable event.
Obi-Wan smiled, his happiness lighting his entire face. Qui-Gon
always fulfilled his promises.
The cabins combined rustic country charm with a privacy that
offered a peaceful retreat from busy Earth lives. He crunched
through the faint remnants of snow on the path. Qui-Gon opened
the door immediately, standing in the doorway, also dressed in
a black dinner suit, white shirt, and red bow-tie.
"Obi-Wan."
"Qui-Gon."
Simple words of greeting, to say each other's names. The
electric look in their eyes said so much more. Love, passion,
desire.
"You brought the rose?"
Obi-Wan held the flower out to Qui-Gon, who took it and slowly
ran the petals along his lips.
"Master?" Obi-Wan asked, bemused at the sensuality in Qui-Gon's
intent appreciation.
Qui-Gon didn't respond verbally, simply wrapped one large hand
around the back of Obi-Wan's head, bringing their lips close,
rubbing them together teasingly. Muscles slack, Obi-Wan let
himself be manipulated. Stepping back, Qui-Gon repeated his
actions, feeling first the rose petals then Obi-Wan's lips. He
smiled as if an important realization had been made, then
gathered Obi-Wan into a full embrace, kissing him lingeringly,
their tongues ravenous for the taste of each other.
Obi-Wan arched his body, molding his frame to Qui-Gon's larger
shape. His arms twined around Qui-Gon's broad shoulders. The
two kissed with a passionate intensity as if they had been
separated for a month rather than a day.
Lips reluctantly separated, the fire dimming to mere embers.
"Master?" Obi-Wan repeated.
"I had to know, Obi-Wan."
"Know what?"
"Which was softer - the petals of a rose or your lips." A
forefinger traced Obi-Wan's lips. "Your lips definitely win, my
love," Qui-Gon purred.
His Padawan blinked in surprise. While Qui-Gon could be
extremely romantic when their duties permitted, he hadn't even
realized his Master had seen a rose, much less was aware of
their connection of Valentine's Day. "You're trying to make me
swoon," he accused.
"I hope I'm succeeding," was the unrepentant response. Qui-Gon
leaned forward to take an unexpected nip at the sensitive lobe
of Obi-Wan's ear. Whispering, "Yes, I'm trying to make you
swoon. Then I'm going to make you dizzy with desire. But
first," he blew into the ear, "I'm going to feed you." The last
was stated in a practical tone as he tugged a dazed Obi-Wan
into the cabin.
As Qui-Gon settled the rose into a bud vase, Obi-Wan assessed
the cabin's interior. Daniel was woefully ignorant of modern
interior design, but the furnishings were definitely higher
quality than the cheap motels usually frequented by the
scientist. Nicer even than the more expensive hotels where
academic conventions had been held. The bland impersonality
featured in most chain hotels was replaced by a comfortable
homey feeling, achieved with plush pillows, natural woods, and
an old-fashioned quilt on the large bed.
"I thought we would eat in front of the fire," Qui-Gon
suggested, removing two salad plates from the refrigerator in
the small kitchenette.
Obi-Wan sat on the floor, back resting against the couch. His
Master sat the plates and silverware on the floor and returned
to the kitchenette to retrieve a bottle of champagne and two
flutes. The bottle was quickly opened, only the merest whisper
of air escaping as the cork was removed, and the bubbly liquid
poured into the glasses. Qui-Gon sat beside Obi-Wan, offering
him a glass.
"Shall we?" the older Jedi asked, holding out his arm.
Bemused, Obi-Wan simply nodded and the two linked their arms at
the elbows before drinking, the slight alcoholic fizziness
tickling their noses.
Leaning close before Obi-Wan could swallow, Qui-Gon pressed an
open-mouthed kiss on his lips, the champagne mingling as their
tongues danced. Setting his glass down, Qui-Gon calmly picked
up his plate and fork to begin eating.
"All right, explain," Obi-Wan demanded.
"Explain what, Padawan?" Qui-Gon was apparently oblivious to
Obi-Wan's confusion.
"The roses, the champagne...who's been coaching you? You don't
know this much about Earth traditions."
"Really, Obi-Wan, I promised you a Valentine treat. Didn't you
expect me to take the initiative to ensure a proper Earth
celebration?"
"Yes," he replied hesitantly, as if realizing his error in
doubting his Master's abilities. More firmly, he added, "but I
also know how busy we have been, how many planets we've
researched for the Stargate project. You must have had help.
Someone coached you, bought the clothes, the rose, the
champagne..."
"Use your logic, Padawan. Who do you think helped me?"
Obi-Wan almost groaned at his Master's tone. His suspicious
questioning had triggered a lesson. He should have kept his
mouth shut. While seemingly mild and calm, his Master wouldn't
let this issue die until his apprentice demonstrated a logical
course of reasoning. "Very well, not Teal'c. You would have
done something monstrously wrong if you'd based your actions on
Teal'c's unique interpretations of Earth culture." At Qui-Gon's
nod, Obi-Wan added, "Not Daniel. His romanticism is less
traditional, though extremely sincere. Occasionally awkward."
"I would have to accept your word for that, Padawan, but yes,
not Daniel."
"You spend a lot of time with Hammond but I don't think you
talk about our relationship with him."
"Correct. We usually talk more of military matters. You and his
late wife have arisen only infrequently as a topic of
conversation."
"Late wife...? Never mind. Jack then. You've spent time with
him, he probably courted his wife with such gestures."
Obi-Wan's doubting tone undermined his conclusion.
"But?" Qui-Gon prompted.
"But Jack is still hesitant about expressing his feelings for
Daniel, even though I believe those feelings to be very true
and deep. I have a difficult time envisioning him as a
co-planner in my seduction."
"Yes, for such a bluntly honest man, Jack does have odd moments
of reticence. And this isn't your seduction, Obi-Wan."
"No?"
"No." Qui-Gon's long fingers tugged on Obi-Wan's braid, pulling
him into another greedy kiss. "I'm your present. This
preparation is just part of the packaging."
Obi-Wan gave a soft moan and shivered as Qui-Gon blew into his
ear. "Who then?"
Shaking his head ruefully, Qui-Gon responded, "You're limiting
yourself, Obi-Wan. As your Master, I should make you
contemplate all the possibilities until you arrive at the
correct determination. But tonight, as your lover - "
Fingers were rapidly pressed against his lips, stopping his
words. "No, Master, never tell me anything as my lover. I am
your Padawan before all other considerations. Neither of us
could live with ourselves if we forget that fact." The pressure
of the fingers loosened, stroking the soft lips, brushing the
neatly trimmed mustache. "Allow me a little time to review the
possibilities, please?"
Nuzzling into Obi-Wan's hand, Qui-Gon replied, "You are a wise
man, Obi-Wan. You have your time. Though as your Master, I
should note that you may not have the luxury of lengthy
analysis in many situations." A subdued nod met his words. "But
in most diplomatic negotiations, you will be evaluating the
participants from an outside perspective. Your bond with Daniel
still influences your view of this world and her people."
"On this occasion then, I thank you for allowing a deviation
from your normal high training standards." The elegant accent
deepened into a throaty purr. "Master, I'm not very hungry
tonight...for food. If you are my present, can I simply choose
to rip off the wrapping?" His other hand tugged at one end of
Qui-Gon's red bowtie, until the careful knot was dismantled and
the silk fabric hung free over the white shirt front.
"We can advance to the final course, if you would like. Grant
me one last moment of preparation. Close your eyes."
Slight kisses fell upon his eyelids as Obi-Wan obeyed. The
currents of air whispered around him, signaling that Qui-Gon
was using super speed to complete his plans. He heard a droning
noise - ah, a microwave - and the tiny ping that announced the
machine was finished. Something had been warmed but not heated.
The rustle of fabric caused Obi-Wan to pout. He really did
prefer to undress Qui-Gon himself.
"You may open your eyes."
His Master wasn't visible from Obi-Wan's location in front of
the fireplace. He stood, looking around the cabin. There, on
the bed, Qui-Gon laid, naked for Obi-Wan's delectation. His
long, well-defined limbs stretched out, his fingers interwoven
behind his head, hair loosened from its customary tie. The
covers were bundled on the floor at the end of the bed, and the
cabin's mundane white sheets and pillowcase were replaced with
red satin, forming a perfect background for Qui-Gon's lean,
graceful body.
With a jerk of his chin, Qui-Gon gestured to the nightstand.
"Your chocolate, my love."
"If you won't permit me to rip the packaging off my present, I
shall have to satisfy the urge to tear by removing my own
wrapping."
"Please do," was the smoky permission. Buttons went flying as
Obi-Wan tore at his own clothes, the tie, jacket and white
shirt tossed aside, belt loosened, slacks and briefs shoved
down his hips, shiny black shoes sent sailing, socks tugged
off. Qui-Gon smiled with relish, watching the enthusiasm and
speed with which Obi-Wan disrobed. "My coach said buying a suit
was a wiser choice than renting a tuxedo. Though the reasoning
wasn't to avoid explaining missing buttons to a sales clerk."
"Ah, a vital clue," Obi-Wan smirked. Leaning forward, he
flipped head over heels, landing lightly on the bed, knees
dropping to each side of Qui-Gon's hips, pinning the other man
to the bed. "Your coach has firm opinions on clothes shopping.
Definitely not Jack." Picking up the container on the night
stand, he examined it and quizzically arched his brows on
Qui-Gon. "This is a gravy bowl. A china gravy bowl."
"From my coach. It was deemed a nicer container than anything
we could borrow from the project's kitchen."
Obi-Wan simply smiled, both amused and flattered at the care
and attention to detail. He dipped a finger in the brown fluid,
collecting a taste, and licked it off. "Excellent flavor."
"See's ice cream topping. Just as good as Godiva and not as
ridiculously overpriced."
"According to your coach." He stirred the chocolate with the
small ladle, watching the surging ripples before pulling the
scoop out. Licking his lips, he contemplated his canvas. He
exulted in lingering over their loving, as every time with
Qui-Gon was more precious than the last. So many years spent
being patient, waiting for his Knighthood to approach his
Master, until that blissful night when Qui-Gon used the
physical merging of their bodies to bond their minds,
dissolving Obi-Wan's inadvertent link to Daniel. A wholly new
side of Qui-Gon had opened to his apprentice when their souls
touched. Obi-Wan had always known Qui-Gon was a strong,
capable, dedicated man, with a gentle spirit and a fierce
compulsion to protect innocents. He'd never realized Qui-Gon
would be so astonishingly generous with his body and his love,
receptive and attuned to his partner's desires to a degree that
staggered and humbled Obi-Wan.
Slightly warmed chocolate splattered on Qui-Gon's nose. "I love
your nose, Master."
"Broken and badly healed, Obi-Wan. You have odd taste."
"Superb taste," Obi-Wan countered. A steady stream of chocolate
followed his words, "Every part of your body is perfection. The
hollow of your throat, those broad shoulders, that dark
nipple..."
"Not both?" was the quirky question.
"This one over your heart...this one stays pure Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan drew a heart around Qui-Gon's left nipple, careful to
prevent any chocolate falling within the outline. "That flat
abdomen, your navel..." Scooting back to rest on Qui-Gon's
thighs, both men hissed as the underside of Obi-Wan's cock
drifted over Qui-Gon's erection. "Your hip bones, and oh yes,
this definitely..." he murmured, covering Qui-Gon's erection
with a full scoop of the ladle.
The bowl placed back on the night stand, Obi-Wan's hands rested
on each side of Qui-Gon's head. He leaned down to lick at the
chocolate drops on Qui-Gon's nose, warm tongue cherishing the
noble feature with its slight bump.
Qui-Gon shivered as Obi-Wan methodically traced the path he'd
drawn, interspersing each taste of chocolate with a savoring of
the uncovered nipple. His nose was thoroughly cleaned before
Obi-Wan refreshed his taste buds with suckling the flat brown
disc with its pebbled center. The hollow of the throat, another
cherishing of the skin over his heart. The chocolate smeared
nipple was devoured with open mouth and greedy tongue before
returning to its twin. The journey of discovery continued,
Qui-Gon flinching and trembling as Obi-Wan loved every inch of
his Master's frame, dipping his tongue into each hollow and
indentation, seeking the tantalizing flavor of Qui-Gon's skin
and chocolate syrup.
Obi-Wan sat back, his bottom resting on Qui-Gon's knees as he
studied his canvas one last time. Only the blurred outlines of
the stenciled heart on Qui-Gon's flat chest and the chocolate
dripping off his erect penis remained. "I'm afraid I wasn't
quite fast enough, Master. The sheets are a mess." The
chocolate had slid off Qui-Gon's body, leaving streaks on the
red material. With one finger, he scooped a drop of chocolate
off the sheet, sensually sucking his finger into his mouth.
"You needn't worry about sleeping in a mess, Obi-Wan. There's a
spare set in the closet, blue to match my eyes."
"Your coach again. You never think about the beauty of your
eyes."
"My eyes are plain indeed, compared to yours. Boring blue next
to the delight of yours, which change to reflect your moods,
the color of the sky, the lushness of the forest..."
His heart overflowing with tenderness, Obi-Wan whispered, "You
are a poet, Master. To think that you see such beauty in me is
the best wonder in this universe." He shook his head slightly,
smiling to dissolve the seriousness. "But now I definitely know
your coach. Or shall I say coaches?"
He swooped before Qui-Gon could answer, swallowing his erect
penis. His head bobbed up and down as he sucked with the full
force of his mouth. He released Qui-Gon's cock to lick it
clean, appreciative noises emitting from the back of his throat
as he relished the fine flavor of pre-ejaculate and chocolate.
His hands moving restlessly over Obi-Wan's firm shoulders,
Qui-Gon moaned and exclaimed, verbally sharing his excitement
with his lover. Expressing their feelings toward each other
strengthened their bond, and each man took care to satisfy his
lover's emotional needs. Qui-Gon's cock was completely cleaned
by deft swipes of Obi-Wan's tongue before his Padawan's mouth
claimed him again, the moist warmth surrounding his sensitive
flesh. Qui-Gon frantically stroked Obi-Wan's tight, muscled
back, desperate to communicate his joy in being a gift so
eagerly cherished. He screamed hoarsely as the voracious
sucking swiftly pushed him beyond control, the red haze of his
orgasm claiming both his heart and body.
Obi-Wan's smile was gleeful as he settled between Qui-Gon's
spread thighs.
"You look quite pleased with yourself, Obi-Wan."
"And you look deliciously debauched, Qui-Gon. Not my serene and
proper Master." Obi-Wan's words were truth, as Qui-Gon relaxed
on the bed, his muscles heavy and languid after his release, a
fine sheen from his own sweat and Obi-Wan's saliva coating his
body. The dimmed lights of the room shadowed his form, the
scarlet background contrasting with his creamy skin. A strong
man, strong in both body and soul, strong enough to offer
himself unhesitatingly to his lover.
"So who are my coaches, Obi-Wan?"
"It must be Sam and Janet, Master. The combination of
romanticism with logical organization is a dead giveaway, to
use the Earth idiom."
"You've reached the correct conclusion, but you still seem a
bit perplexed, Obi-Wan." A hiss escaped as Obi-Wan's finger,
lubricated with saliva, found the tight opening to his body.
"In American culture, Master, men like to watch women together
sexually, but women do not like to watch men."
"American culture as..."
A rueful grin answered his leading statement as Obi-Wan
instantly divined his Master's direction. "American culture as
defined by American men. I'm delighted to hear that Sam and
Janet have the intelligence to be receptive to love in all
forms, though I confess to surprise. The fact that Sam accepted
the one occasion when Daniel, Jack and I were together seems
quite different from actively encouraging a relationship
between two men." A second finger joined the first, stretching
and probing the taut muscles.
"Let's not forget Aostara in Accounts, Angela from SG-2, Vivian
on the cooking staff..." Qui-Gon's words ended in a gasp as
Obi-Wan stroked his prostate, sending shafts of pleasure
through his senses until even the tips of his fingernails
tingled.
"Please, Master, don't tell me the entire female contingent of
the Stargate project assisted in my seduction." A quirk of his
lips accompanied the mocking plea.
Qui-Gon's eyes shut as the snub end of Obi-Wan's cock edged
into his body. "Right now, Obi-Wan, I'll say or not say
anything you like..." The soft gasps between his words
undermined the authority of his correction as he continued,
"But tonight is your present, not your seduction. You keep
confusing the issue."
Obi-Wan's strong hands grasped Qui-Gon's powerful thighs,
spreading them wide and using his clasp to manipulate the older
Jedi's body as he thrust deeply. Words were lost, transformed
into plaintive moans as the two men easily fell into a gliding
rhythm. The muscles in Obi-Wan's thighs rippled as he lunged
powerfully into Qui-Gon, sliding slowly out before thrusting
again. His Master's hips rose and fell to meet Obi-Wan, his
ankles locking behind his Padawan's back.
Questing thoughts reached out from both men as their shields
fell, minds uniting, sharing sensations of being both the
possessor and the possessed until their feelings were blended
and indivisible. Laughter erupted from Obi-Wan as he caught the
visual image of Qui-Gon, studiously taking lessons in the
proper method of drinking champagne from a cluster of women in
the Stargate cafeteria during off-hours. His chuckle strangled
into a moan when Qui-Gon clenched his buttocks, squeezing
Obi-Wan's cock. Their climax was simultaneous and explosive,
fiery streaks shooting through every nerve, cries of pleasure
drowning the muted crackling of the fire. Obi-Wan collapsed on
top of Qui-Gon, their legs straightening, bodies rubbing
together, the chocolate heart drawn on Qui-Gon's chest smearing
onto Obi-Wan's flesh.
Neither spoke for ageless moments, hands gently petting as
their breath steadied. Obi-Wan finally placed his elbows on
Qui-Gon's chest, raising the upper half of his body to meet
Qui-Gon's eyes. "Thank you Qui-Gon. I loved my present. I love
you."
Qui-Gon's broad hands stroked Obi-Wan's sides. "I'm delighted
you enjoyed yourself, my love. May I ask if you would like to
reciprocate?"
"Reciprocate, Master?"
"I have another jar, Obi-Wan. Chocolate raspberry sauce."
In response, Obi-Wan simply rolled over and pushed, knocking
Qui-Gon out of the bed. His Master flowed with the shove,
landing nimbly on his feet. Obi-Wan teasingly wiggled his hips
as he positioned himself on the satin sheets, one arm arched
over his head, legs spread, the other hand laying on his
chocolate streaked chest. "Go warm it up, Master."
"Yes, Padawan," was the amused answer. "While I'm doing that,
start contemplating."
"Contemplating what, Master?"
"The next holiday, of course, Padawan. The next holiday."
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