It was still dark outside when he started awake,
blinking in the dimness as he leaned up on an elbow, listening.
Nothing. Dismissing the perhaps sound as a dream, Qui-Gon stifled a
yawn and rolled back over, burrowing under the warm blankets.
Minutes ticked by before, with a sound of exasperation, he sat up.
Grumbling mentally, he rolled to his feet and padded towards the
door.
He wasn't generally a restless sleeper, but waking in the middle of
the night had the bad tendency to give his body the idea that it was
time to be awake. Too many missions where that had been true, he
supposed.
Idly, he wondered if Obi-Wan was back yet. If he was then the door
opening had likely been the sound that had awakened him. They were
on a rare vacation, two weeks before their next assignment, and he'd
allowed the young man to spend the evening with his friends. He felt
a faint touch of guilt at that.
Being Padawan to one of the Order's top negotiators had its
downsides and that was one of them. Obi-Wan barely had time to make
friends before they were whisked away on another mission. In all
likelihood he would become just as much a loner as his master was,
in exchange for being taught the ways of the Jedi. Qui-Gon hoped it
would be worth it.
Pushing aside the twinge, he quietly opened the door, his thoughts
focusing instead on nothing more important than hot tea and a
hopeful return to sleep.
Those thoughts were wiped clean from his mind at the sight before
him and he just caught himself in time from slamming the door back
shut. Instead, he closed it carefully, so that only a crack was open
that his stunned eye peered through.
Obi-Wan was indeed back. And at the moment he was half-naked and
actively entwined on the sofa with someone else. Kissing that
someone else to be more specific.
Qui-Gon stood at the door, frozen like a razorcoon in the lights of
a speeder. He swallowed unconsciously as the other person kneaded
Obi- Wan's bare shoulder's with their hands. Some part of his brain
noticed a long braid hanging off the edge of the sofa, too dark to
be Obi- Wan's. Another Padawan then.
He flushed abruptly as he realized he had been standing there
staring for nearly a full minute and pulled back, leaning against
the wall. This was certainly unexpected. Of course, Obi-Wan was more
than welcome to bring a guest here, this was as much his home as
Qui-Gon's. They probably should have gone to the bedroom but even
Qui-Gon had to admit there was a certain charm to making love
somewhere less than traditional.
A soft gasp floated through the still barely open door, drawing his
reluctant eyes back and he peeked out again. Obi-Wan was on his
knees in front of the sofa now, the other person, a young man he
didn't recognize, was sitting up, his head resting on the high back
on the sofa, lips parted as he seemed to struggle for air.
Obi-Wan was nuzzling the other boy's belly, rubbing his cheek
against the warm skin there. His hands were lower, fumbling with the
ties on the boy's pants. After long moments of struggling he finally
managed to work the ties free. Obi-Wan raised his head, a soft
flurry of whispering, and the other boy lifted his hips. Qui-Gon
watched as Obi- Wan tugged the boy's pants down and off. The boy's
erection bounced free, and Obi-Wan captured it, steadied it with a
gentle hand. He leaned forward on his knees, his intention clear,
and Qui-Gon wrenched himself away from the door, sliding down the
wall to crouch next to it.
He closed his eyes but he could still hear them, soft sounds of
pleasure, muffled, they were probably afraid to make too much noise
for fear of waking him. As if they had a will of their own,
Qui-Gon's fingers crept down the front of his sleep pants, cupping
the erection that was there. He jerked his hand back away guiltily,
even as he felt a spike of pleasure from the too brief touch. Gods,
he was too old for this, to be turned on by the mere idea of someone
having sex.
His eyes were drawn back to the door, those vague moans like a siren
call. Obi-Wan was still kneeling and was now licking the other boy's
cock in long, languid strokes, lapping lightly at the head before
taking the entire length into his mouth. The other padawan gasped
loudly, brought a hand up to his mouth to stifle the sounds that
were escaping even as he arched his hips slightly upward, towards
that tantalizing mouth.
Staring with wide eyes through the tiny slit in the door, Qui-Gon
watched Obi-Wan pull that cock deeply into his mouth. Watched his
cheeks work as he sucked and stroked it. Watched him pull back to
run his tongue up and down the shaft and suddenly he found himself
wondering how hot that mouth was, how soft, how...
He stopped short in that thought, refusing to complete it. His
conscience and sense of propriety had joined together and were
screaming in unison, Have you lost your mind!!!
Force, what the in all the Incarnations of Hell was he doing?
Crouching on the floor and watching this like some kind of lecherous
pervert, spying on his padawan while he was engaged in a most
private and intimate moment?
He should get up right this instant, shut the door and go back to
bed. And add a few meditations on invading privacy to his to-do list
for tomorrow.
He didn't move. Instead, he watched as his apprentice freed a hand
and fumbled without looking in the pile of clothing off to the side.
A moment a blind searching and the hand returned, holding a small
bottle.
Lubricant, Qui-Gon guessed and was proved correct when Obi-Wan
flipped open the cap and poured some oil into his hand. He coated
his fingers with the oil, then slid his hand underneath the boy,
finding the entrance of his body and carefully slid a finger inside.
The boy arched upwards with a choked gasp, pushing himself further
into Obi-Wan's avid mouth. Obi-Wan pulled completely back then,
leaned upward and there was another bout of soft whispering. They
kissed, briefly and Obi-Wan shifted to the side, giving the boy room
to slide off the sofa and onto the floor.
Obi-Wan skimmed off the rest of his clothes, moving behind the boy
now kneeling in front of the sofa and for an instant Qui-Gon had
completely unblocked view of his Padawan.
When had his sweet, young apprentice grown up? Of course, he'd known
when Obi-Wan reached his sexual maturity, intellectually he'd known
that Obi-Wan had been a grown man for some time now. It had been
Qui- Gon's eyes that still saw a mischievous child, his brain that
hadn't registered that Obi-Wan had, in fact, left childhood far
behind.
And the body he saw just then was not that of a child. He was
beautiful, outlined in the dim light and wearing nothing but an
expanse of pale skin that made Qui-Gon's fingers itch to see if was
a silky as it looked. And then he moved behind the other boy,
breaking Qui-Gon's line of vision.
Qui-Gon watched as he carefully prepared the other boy, slipping
first one oiled finger, then another, inside him. The boy had his
head resting on his folded arms, muffling whimpers as he pushed back
against those invading fingers.
Obi-Wan shifted back and oiled his own cock with his slick hand and
Qui-Gon couldn't pull his eyes away from the sight of Obi-Wan
touching himself. Tantalizing peeks of skin showed through the
clasping fingers and for one brief unguarded moment, when he pulled
his hand away, he exposed himself completely, unknowingly, to his
Master's gaze.
He let his eyes caress that gleaming shaft for the brief second that
he saw it. Oh no, definitely not a child. And then Obi-Wan
positioned himself behind the other boy and pushed inside him. If
he'd thought his Padawan beautiful before it was nothing compare to
the vision of beauty he created in his pleasure, eyes closed, lips
parted, the very tip of his tongue caught between his teeth.
Qui-Gon's treacherous fingers crept downward again, cupping even
more treacherous flesh and this time he didn't pull them away.
Instead, he drank in the sight before him, taking in every detail
and committing them to memory; the fine trickle of sweat that ran
down Obi-Wan's back, the way the muscles in his hips flexed with
every thrust.
His hand began to match those thrusts, stroking in time with each
deep lunge. Qui-Gon could hear every sound they made, sounds that
they were trying desperately to contain and failing. He could tell
which sounds were his Padawan's, knew each moan, each gasp that was
his. Obi-Wan had pressed his face against the other boy's shoulder,
trying to suppress his growing sounds of pleasure.
Stroking himself almost desperately, watching the two boys coupling
in the other room, he held back, waiting, waiting...
Obi-Wan made a soft keening sound, thrust hard into the other boy,
his entire body shaking and then Qui-Gon allowed himself to come.
His eyes finally closed as he shuddered in guilty pleasure and
behind his eyes he was the one being taken.
A moment longer he sat there, until the coldness of the floor began
to seep through his thin pants. One last glance out the door, they
were embracing now, both their expressions content as they lightly
stroked each other.
He let his gaze linger on Obi-Wan just a second longer and then he
carefully shut the door. Cleaned himself with trembling fingers and
fairly dove back into his bed, keeping his mind carefully blank. His
conscious was asking questions that he didn't have answers to and
there was enough time to think about this later, he decided
sleepily. At least now I'm tired again.
Obi-Wan kissed Thian one last time before whispering yet another
soft goodbye and shutting the outer door. He stretched, groaning at
the pleasant warmth that still clung to him and began to gather up
his clothes. He looked around the room with a critical eye. Deciding
everything was in order, he went to his own room for some
much-needed sleep, but not before casting a speculative look at the
door to his master's bedroom. Next time, Master, he thought,
a wicked smile curving his lips, Next time you're going to do
more than watch. That's a promise!
-finis-
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