Master Apprentice
Archive
Watching, Wishing, Waiting
|
|
|||
Archive - Please, at M_A Archive. Also found in my LiveJournal MEMORIES section http://lauramcewan.livejournal.com Any others just ask.
Category - Q/O
Rating - R
Disclaimer - These boys are mine only in my dreams, my bookshelf, and in my DVD player. They belong completely to King George of Lucas, in a galaxy far, far away. Money is no object, for none exists in my wallet.
Summary - For the 2004 Merry Month of Masturbation challenge. Started as a drabble for TPM100 on LiveJournal. Drabble is posted at the end. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan mutually gratify themselves.
Feedback - Is entirely welcome at padawan_laura@yahoo.com
Thanks - to Camille for beta.
Qui-Gon wearily hung his cloak in the closet, sat on the end of his bed, unbuckled his boots and shucked them off. The thuds on the floor sounded as muted as he felt. Worn down, tired, in need of a break.
Having to share a bed with Obi-Wan hadn't helped matters. For long hours Qui-Gon had lain on his side, nearly spooning with Obi-Wan but not quite touching him, laying awkwardly with his arm pinned beneath his head. The temptation to touch the skin so close to him, to run his free hand across the broadening shoulders of a young man developing into his adult body was nearly too much to take.
The scent of another male so close...
The shields he had erected in self defense were taxing him. Now that they were home, and he was safely in his own room, he cautiously lowered them, sensing for any untoward reaction from Obi-Wan, but all seemed fine. Obi-Wan was exhausted and weary, too.
Qui-Gon stripped, not bothering to put his clothes into the laundry chute. They can grow feet and walk there themselves or wait until morning, he thought.
The cool sheets were welcome, whispering over his bare legs and genitals. He had missed sleeping nude, as well. Wholly inappropriate when sleeping with one's padawan learner. Especially that padawan learner.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing himself into a pre-doze state of mind. He let his thoughts drift where they would until he could fall asleep.
Images of Obi-Wan faded in and out of his mind. The mission had been physically demanding. They both had worked without tunics several times, sweat dripping off their heads and into their eyes. Obi-Wan's skin glistened in the harsh sunlight, the muscles of his back shifting as he twisted and turned, pulling rubble aside from the collapsed capitol building, searching for the documents that proved the heir's right to the throne.
Lodging was scarce; water for cleaning up even scarcer. They had bunked in soldiers' quarters, doubling up in beds designed for one. The scent of sweaty young male so close...
Which brought Qui-Gon right back to his lustful thoughts.
One callused hand slid across his belly, down to grasp his stiffening cock. He tipped his head back, arched his back slightly, and set to stroking rhythmically, moaning lightly as the pleasure twined through him.
Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan's presence before he saw him. He slowed his hand and looked to the doorway with hooded eyes.
Obi-Wan hovered like a ghost in the doorway, his open tunic baring his jutting erection, the rest of his body beautifully nude, a soft shadow in the low, dim light.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard.
The silhouette against the door touched itself and sighed. Why are you doing this to me, Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon thought. This was wrong, so wrong. Obi-Wan was still a padawan, no matter how close to his knighting he was.
Obi-Wan's fist set a rhythm, and Qui-Gon began to mirror the motion. Faster they went, soft sounds escaping panting mouths, the room filling with the warm, intoxicating scent of male arousal. Qui-Gon's eyes held only to the dark boy in the doorway until they both reached their climax, moaning and gasping in unison.
Obi-Wan fell to his knees, his still erect cock bobbing gently, silently begging to be allowed to enter his master's sanctuary, to slide between the cool sheets and touch the man he loved.
Oh, gods. I want him, too, Qui-Gon thought. But he shook his head slowly, reining in his need.
"Not yet. Soon enough, my Obi-Wan. Soon enough."
~end.
Drabble for TPM100 that this was built from. (Found here as well: http://www.livejournal.com/community/tpm100/210039.html)
Like a ghost in my doorway, my Obi-Wan hovers, his open tunic baring his jutting erection, the rest of his body beautifully nude, a soft shadow in the low, dim light. I am not as quiet as I try to be, for he has surely heard my moans.
The silhouette against my door touches himself, drawing a faint sigh from him, and from me.
His fist sets a rhythm, and I mirror him until we both reach our climax, moaning in unison. Obi-Wan falls to his knees, silently begging, but I shake my head slowly. Not yet. Soon, my Obi-Wan.
Word Count=100