Author's Notes: So there we were in IRC, Keely stuck on a sex scene, Mac stuck on an H/C scene and Keely goes and spouts off an intriguing little bit. Soon enough Mac was drawn into Keely's web and then me too. Trinity made a decision about Obi-Wan's clothing, Bunny asked a question and the rest of us just hung on for the ride. And Caly edited it and made the damn thing work and took out all the chat tags.
Pausing just outside the door to his chambers, Obi-Wan stretched, his tight clothes protesting the sudden movement. Normally, he enjoyed undercover work and while this was no exception, consorting with the speederbike gangs of Coruscant required a bit of costuming. And the leather pants and jacket were not exactly like normal Jedi regalia. He sighed, stretching again and easing the knots in his shoulders from spending the day hunched over a speederbike.
At least he'd managed to blend in, even if the leader of the gang insisted, for some reason, on calling him 'Legs'. And leering every time he said it. Obi-Wan hadn't asked why, he had the feeling that he really didn't want to know.
A last stretch and he opened the door, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and dinner...and found his master waiting for him in the main room of their chambers. He raised an eyebrow at the older man. "Wouldn't you be warmer with some clothing on?"
"Actually, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, as he ran one long fingered hand down his side to his hip and across to his stomach....." I feel...very warm..."
Blinking, Obi-Wan nervously wet his lips, shifting uncomfortably. Watching Qui- Gon slide his hands over his body was raising his own temperature as well.
"It may be the climate control," Qui-Gon said in that slow, deep drawl that always raised the hairs on Obi-Wan's neck. "I had the strangest desire to return to basics.."
"Did you?" Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely, stepping closer almost unwillingly. Qui- Gon was practically sprawled across the sofa in their main room, still trailing his hands over his body, looking at Obi-Wan from beneath lowered lashes as he approached.
Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, took one of Qui-Gon's hands from where it lay, raised it to his lips and drew one of those long, warm fingers into his mouth. He looked across at his Master through lowered lashes as he lathed the callused skin with his tongue, tasting salt and heat and the strong, sweet flavor of the Jedi Master's arousal.
He heard Qui-Gon draw in a sharp breath and hid a smile, shifting to rub that one wet finger against his lips before he bit it, hard. Qui-Gon muffled a curse and snatched his hand back, glaring at his padawan.
Obi-Wan smiled sweetly in response, leaning forward to rest his elbows on Qui- Gon's knees, grin widening when Qui-Gon shifted away suspiciously.
"And what, may I ask, was that for?" Qui-Gon asked archly.
Obi-Wan smiled silkily and squirmed up Qui-Gon's body to sit in his lap. "Just claiming what's mine," he purred.
"Yours?" Qui-Gon choked out, flushed, breathing hard and completely unable to tear his eyes off the creature in his lap.
"Well, I came home," Obi-Wan explained, his tone overly innocent, "and there you were, all spread out like a gift. Isn't that what you are?" he asked, and leaned forward to bite a nipple none too gently.
Hissing softly at the sharp pain, Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan's shoulders with his hands, fingers digging in. The bite eased and Obi-Wan lapped at the abused flesh with the tip of his tongue before licking his way across Qui-Gon's chest to his other nipple. He blew on it first, watching it peak and harden before he took it into his mouth, nibbling gently. Qui-Gon moaned softly above him, relaxing back into the cushions as his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulders eased.
Obi-Wan pulled back, but only far enough to pull open the silvered tabs of his black leather jacket, one by one. As he opened the jacket he slid forward, moving his thighs across Qui-Gon's hips, the tight black leather stroking over the sweat-slicked skin. Qui-Gon slid his hands up the warm leather-covered legs, around the tightly held hips to Obi-Wan's ass and pulled him forward so that he could press his mouth between the open halves of the leather jacket. He tongued Obi-Wan's navel, licked the skin of his bared chest and moved down to press his face over the tight, black bulge at his groin.
Qui-Gon mouthed the leather hungrily. He could smell Obi-Wan's arousal, the musk fueling his desire. Strong fingers slid through his hair and pulled him closer for a moment before pushing him away. Qui-Gon looked up at his lover, a bit confused. Obi-Wan slid a leather-clad thigh between the older man's legs and kissed him, hard. It was a possessive kiss, a claiming kiss.
"You didn't answer my question," Obi-Wan reminded him huskily. "Are you a gift?" he ground his thigh against Qui-Gon's cock and the older man threw his head back, hardly even aware he was answering.
"Yes...Force, yes! Obi-Wan..." he trailed off, his tone turning pleading as the perfect friction of leather slick with precum against his cock disappeared. He opened eyes he wasn't aware he'd closed and saw Obi-Wan standing, leather jacket hanging open, flushed with arousal, leather pants straining and smeared with his seed. Qui-Gon groaned deeply.
The younger man tugged him up from the couch and, wrapping a hand around his neck, drew him down for another kiss. "Bedroom. Now," he ordered. Qui-Gon didn't even stop to think. He just went.
"Lie down on the bed," Obi-Wan commanded, and Qui-Gon obeyed, again without thought. This was not the Obi-Wan that he knew so well, the young man that he had trained, who obeyed his master's words. This man was a stranger to Qui-Gon, an outsider wearing Obi-Wan's face.
He liked it.
A hand drifted over Qui-Gon's face, closing his eyes for him and he obeyed the silent command, skin tingling with arousal and a strange sense of vulnerability. That hand skimmed over Qui-Gon's chest, scraped lightly over his belly before feathering over Qui-Gon's erection. The hard flesh jumped slightly as if of its own will, straining for more of that touch. But Obi-Wan moved away, no longer touching and Qui-Gon shivered, stifling a groan of dismay as he waited for whatever the younger man would do next. Soft, wet heat traced the head of his cock and Qui-Gon flinched slightly, a soft cry escaping him as Obi-Wan licked him again, pushing down his foreskin to suck gently at the tip.
The efficient tongue swirled around the rounded tip and into the slit and Qui- Gon hissed, grabbed the Obi-Wan's head as one hand gathered his cock at the root and began to stroke in rhythm with the sucking mouth and stroking tongue. Obi- Wan moved one hand up to take one of Qui-Gon's hands and guide it around to his ass.
Obi-Wan's breath whispered against his rigid cock. "Do you like that? Do you want that? No, don't open you eyes...feel...with you hands, just your hands."
Then he stopped speaking and Qui-Gon lay helpless in the grip of sensation, his own and Obi-Wan's. The hot, taking mouth on his almost painful arousal, his own hands gripping the tight leather, pushing past it, beneath it.
So hot, so tight...thoughts blended, awareness melded, overwhelmed.
Qui-Gon couldn't resist the warm, smooth swell of buttock, any more than he could fight the tight sucking pressure on his cock.. Skin lay like hot velvet to his touch and he stroked it as he would some fine work of art, with aesthetic and tactile pleasure. His fingers touched the space between the two ass cheeks, hesitated, slid between them. He groaned, Obi-Wan's mouth tightened around him and he knew how close he was to some extraordinary exultation.
Obi-Wan could feel his lover teetering on the edge of his climax and he eased up , grinning a little at Qui-Gon's cry of frustration. "Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon moaned pleadingly. His hips thrust helplessly, desperate for release. Obi-Wan paid him no heed, teasingly bringing him impossibly close to orgasm, then backing off.
Inspiration struck Qui-Gon and he brought his fingers to his mouth, wetting them quickly but thoroughly. He quickly slid his hand down Obi-Wan's side and stroked his ass, his fingers teasing the younger man as mercilessly as he was being teased. Obi-Wan moaned, the vibrations surrounding Qui-Gon's cock, and he shuddered in pleasure, fingers plunging deeper into his lover.
Obi-Wan sucked harder, forgetting his play for dominance, thinking only of his pleasure and his lover's. Lightly, he scraped his teeth along Qui-Gon's shaft and was rewarded with a second finger. He moaned again and thrust back against the invading digits, his whole body aching for release. Qui-Gon was trembling. He was close, so close... Crooking his fingers, he stroked his lover's prostate. Obi-Wan shuddered and sped his rhythm, as desperate for release now as the older man.
Clumsily tugging open his pants, Obi-Wan managed to slide on hand down the front, stroking his own erection. He'd barely had to touch himself before he came, moaning around the hard shaft in his mouth and sucking hard, wanting Qui- Gon with him. Sweet pleasure arced through him and he dimly realized that it wasn't his own, that Qui-Gon was pouring his own ecstasy into the Force. A sudden spurt of warm fluid against his tongue and Obi-Wan swallowed almost absently, all his focus on Qui-Gon.
One hand tightly clasping Obi-Wan's hip, other fingers stroking deeply inside Obi-Wan's body, Qui-Gon shuddered helplessly, a desperate moan escaping him as he wrapped himself around Obi-Wan as well as he could, thrusting upward into the warm velvet of his padawan's mouth and surrendered to the hot pulses of pleasure that were rushing through him.
He collapsed backwards onto the bed, gasping for breath. Obi-Wan gently nuzzled his softening erection, kissing it tenderly before sliding upwards and taking Qui-Gon's mouth with his own.
Barely responding, Qui-Gon tasted himself on Obi-Wan's lips before the younger man sighed and moved to rest his head on Qui-Gon's chest. Petting Obi-Wan's sweaty hair, he felt a warm gust of air against his skin as the younger man spoke.
"Why -were- you naked in the common room, anyway?"