In the Stacks
Disclaimer: The Phantom Menace belongs to George Lucas.
Qui-Gon bit back a sneeze as he made his way down into the most ancient part of the Temple library where all the paper records were held. The dust was particularly thick today, and he was not at all sure why Obi-Wan insisted they meet down here in order to go over his padawan's latest test results, considering that Obi-Wan knew full well that Qui-Gon had no love for moldy old scripts when everything had been transferred onto datachips eons ago, but he would, of course, humor his padawan, no matter how crazy the young man was. That was, after all, part of a master's job; and even if it weren't, the radiant smile on Obi's face when he'd agreed this morning made it worth the slightly irritating tickle in his nose.
Reaching out along the training bond, Qui-Gon made a cursory search for his missing student but found the connection dulled and blocked. So, his young apprentice was in a playful mood indeed; he must have done better than expected on that course on Pan-Republic Poetry. "Obi-Wan? I know you're down here, my young apprentice, and do not think for an instance I won't find you," he called out softly, a smile gracing his craggy features.
The only response was a disembodied chuckle and the whisper of a mind touch. I'm counting on it, Master.
"Brat," the master replied with an indulgent smile. Very well, if Obi wanted to play, Qui was up for the game. Closing his eyes and centering himself in the Force, the Master began to hunt for his prey.
Long minutes ticked by as the game of cat and mouse continued, leading down deeper and deeper into the lower levels of the stacks until, at last, Qui-Gon rounded a corner and...
Came up short at the sight before him. "Force," the older man breathed as he devoured his padawan with his eyes, his tongue darting out to moisten suddenly dry lips.
Obi-Wan half lay/half sat against one of the old shelves, his breeches down around his ankles, his tunics open and his hand wrapped around his erection, pumping it slowly. Cat eyes danced as they watched his master's reaction to what he was doing. "It looks like I lose, Master," he purred, licking a finger and a thumb before pinching his nipple, moaning as it traveled in an electric current from the now tender nubbin to his weeping cock. "And you win. So tell me, my master, what would you like for your reward?"
Qui-Gon sent his senses outwards, checking the proximity of the Master Archivist and her staff as well as any other Jedi in the area. The closest life form seemed to be about four floors up, which meant that they were quite alone and quite isolated. A wicked smile spread across the master's features. "To what do I owe the honor of this particular game, my pretty little padawan?" the older man asked, clear blue eyes devouring every inch of his lover and his student that he could.
Obi shifted slightly on the blanket, spreading his legs impossibly wider to entice his lover forward. "Didn't you once tell me that you wanted to make love in the Temple library? Something about doing it right underneath the stuffy old archivist's nose and having no one the wiser?" he asked with a grin.
"Force, and you remembered that?"
"I would fulfill every one of your fantasies if you let me, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan replied with a sweet smile as he held out his hand in invitation. "Come, love, be in me."
That simply phrased declaration was the Jedi master's undoing. Groaning, he joined Obi-Wan on the floor and soon had the younger man straddling his lap as he ate at Obi-Wan's mouth, devouring the younger man hungrily. Hands slid under the loosened tunics to caress bare skin, and one leg was slipped out of leggings to make it easier for Obi-Wan to be astride him. Taking a moment to set up a sort of proximity alarm in the Force to warn them if someone ventured too close to their location, Qui-Gon then chose to shut the rest of the world out and concentrated solely on his lover.
Obi-Wan's skin was like the finest of Alderanian fire silks, decadently soft and hot to the touch. His mouth was the finest of nectars, and Qui-Gon returned time and again to sip from his lips. The breathless whimpers and quiet gasps were a goad to his senses, driving him to explore further, tempt more, delve deeper, arouse to new heights, and soon he had a wriggling wanton of a padawan squirming to get closer and trying desperately to curb his normally vocal tendencies in order to keep their assignation undiscovered.
"So gorgeous," the older man groaned into the bee-stung lips that parted once more to allow him entrance. "So lush and ripe and ready for me. I want you to ride me, Obi-Wan. Mount me and ride me," the Jedi Master bade his student, smiling at the tiny mewl of absolute need that Obi let out as his words finally registered.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you, Master?" Obi-Wan gasped as he lay his head down on Qui's shoulder, his whole body shuddering with barely restrained need as he fought to hold his arousal in check and prevent himself from coming immediately.
"Never," Qui murmured, rubbing his bearded cheek against the soft flesh of Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I would never want to do that, my precious one. Now ride me, Obi. I want to feel you squeeze around me, I want to be buried so deep inside you that we're one in body as well as in soul," the older man continued, drawing his lover's face up for a kiss full of desperate hunger.
"Mah...master," Obi moaned as he used Qui's shoulder's to balance against. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he continued to brace one hand on Qui's shoulder as the other sought and found his lover's erection and held it steady.
Too late Qui-Gon realized that they had not used lubricant and tried to stop Obi-Wan from lowering himself, but the younger man was too desperate to allow any interference from his master and lover.
Eyes closed, head thrown back in wanton display, Obi-Wan lowered himself down onto Qui-Gon's erection an inch at a time, letting dry flesh get used to the penetration and gasping at the pleasure-pain that coursed through him. When Qui-Gon moved to lift him off, Obi mewled hungrily. "No, Master, please! I want this. It's so good, so very, very good!" he panted and groaned as he sank even further onto the older man's cock.
Qui-Gon bit down hard on his lip and forced himself to stay completely still, no matter how desperately he wanted to thrust up into the tightly clinging channel of his lover. He would not hurt Obi-Wan for anything, not even his own base needs. When at last he felt Obi's cheeks come to rest against his thighs, the master found the will to open his eyes and look into his padawan's beloved face. The pure hunger and the desire that were reflected back at him made Qui-Gon glad that he was sitting down, otherwise the weakness in his limbs would have been his undoing. "Obi-Wan," he murmured hoarsely, not sure of what he wanted to say, if he wanted to say anything at all.
Breathing heavily through his mouth, Obi found his calm center again before managing a quirking smile and a delicately arched strawberry blond brow. "Yes, Master?" When no answer was forthcoming, Obi-Wan began to raise and lower himself upon his master's erection, hips moving faster and faster as his body grew used to the friction.
Qui-Gon's eyes grew heavy and finally shut as his hands rode upon Obi-Wan's hips. The pleasure was indescribable, as it always was whenever they made love or simply fucked. The arousal that had waned slightly when he thought he was hurting the younger man came back in full force, and soon he was gritting his teeth and fighting to hold on long enough to feel Obi-Wan come apart around him before giving in to his own need.
One hand left his lover's hip to wrap around Obi's straining erection, and he began to pump it in countertime to Obi's thrusts. Soon he was forced to cover the younger man's mouth with his own to muffle the pleasure sounds escaping from Obi-Wan's throat without check. Swallowing Obi's cries, Qui-Gon continued his assault until, with a captured wail of release, the young man collapsed forward into his master's strong embrace, his body shuddering like a leaf in a hurricane and his semen painting both of their stomachs in erotic abstract.
The clenching of Obi-Wan's anal muscles and the butterfly caresses that made their way up and down his shaft proved too much for the Jedi Master, and with a near-silent groan Qui-Gon sent gouts of semen into Obi's tight depths, marking his chosen lover in the most primitive of ways possible, through sex and scent.
Long moments passed with the master and padawan touching and soothing each other as they came down from their orgasms until at last those sea-sparkle eyes filled with humor once more. "One fantasy down, Master, a lifetime's worth left to go."