#meme requests

Stiff in that way he got when he’d slept hard and too long.   Which was odd; he didn’t recall being that weary when he’d gone to bed.

But he’d certainly been asleep for quite a while, because the room was utterly black.  His lover must have turned the window polarity completely dark, the better to let him rest.  

No matter.  He could never mistake in whose arms he was lying.  

Smiling, he nuzzled the warmth under his cheek.  Their lives being what they were, waking up in bed with Obi-Wan was an opportunity never to be squandered -- what was that?  

Cloth interrupting his explorations, that was what.  Which smelled wonderful, if a bit piquant: as if Obi-Wan had been wearing it for a day or so too long.  They didn’t usually sleep clothed on the nights they had together, Obi-Wan must have been chilled when he came to bed –

A sudden twitch as his pillow came awake.  “Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan breathed.

“Hmmm.  Good morning,” Qui-Gon whispered, and coughed a little to clear his throat.  He found and loosened the ties of Obi-Wan’s tunic, kissed his way across the rise of breast to the ridge of collarbone.  “No, don't turn on the light, I see you just fine,” he murmured when Obi-Wan stretched.  

The Force was light enough.  More than enough; his old padawan shone so brightly that sometimes Qui-Gon wondered that the Force-blind couldn’t see the glow.

But Qui-Gon saw, and there was no need for anything more right now.

“All right,” Obi-Wan said, and his voice sounded thick; no doubt with sleep.  “You've slept – a long time; I missed your voice.”

“That long?  Lonely so soon?  However did you manage your First Year, then?” Qui-Gon asked absently, teasingly.

“Uncomfortably, but it’s not the s-same – ”  Obi-Wan’s breath hitched as Qui-Gon began to nibble.  Something in the Force around him felt – unsettled.  “Qui – ”

“Shhh.”  

“But you – oh – you should – ”

“Shhhhh,” Qui-Gon murmured again, pressing the sound into warm skin.  He had the cure for that unsettled-ness, oh, indeed he did.  “Want you, let me – ”

“I – ”  Obi-Wan swallowed.  Then –  “Yes.  Yes.”  

Obi-Wan’s fingers tunneled into Qui-Gon’s hair, which made him smile.  “Master,” Obi-Wan said, choked, and it sounded like a prayer as Qui-Gon found a nipple and licked, the little nub of flesh peaking instantly beneath his tongue.  Qui-Gon chuckled softly, and set about driving his lover crazy.  

He was tired, for some reason; more tired than he really should be, but later to worry about that.  He had enough energy for this moment, and this moment was the only one that mattered.

Qui-Gon pushed the annoying fabric away as he mapped his way to the other nipple, already up hard and reaching.  He closed his lips around it and sucked, worrying with gentle nips and then harder ones, tugging in that way that always made Obi-Wan gasp and even whine, if Qui-Gon bit just right.

He got that little whine this time almost immediately as Obi-Wan shivered, hands tightening in Qui-Gon’s hair as he pushed his chest up, asking for more.  Qui-Gon gave it to him, biting harder as he ran one hand down Obi-Wan’s chest to his waist, feeling for – there.  A few tugs and the superfluous sleep-pants were untied, and Qui-Gon wrapped his fingers around hot, stiffening flesh.

Obi-Wan gasped, and then he moaned – a low, lush sound that ignited under Qui-Gon’s skin, burning away his fatigue.  His own half-hard penis came erect in a hot rush and he rubbed himself luxuriously against Obi-Wan’s thigh, hips beginning to flex in rhythm with his hand on his lover’s cock.

“Oh gods – love, yes – ”  

With a last hard suck, Qui-Gon bade farewell for the moment to the tasty nipple: there were other treats to be had further south and he wanted them now, his mouth was watering from the heavy musk of Obi-Wan’s arousal.  

He moved, kissed his way down the divot of breastbone, sliding down Obi-Wan’s legs – and Obi-Wan’s hands hooked beneath his armpits, halting him.  “No.”

Qui-Gon stilled.  “No?”

“Not – I want – ”  Obi-Wan sucked in a breath.  “I want your mouth, to kiss you.  I want to, to see your eyes.  I want to taste you when I come.”

The words squeezed like a velvet-clad hand around his balls, and Qui-Gon shuddered.  Yes.  Oh yes.  He moved back up Obi-Wan’s body and stared down at his beloved’s face.

Same/not-the-same in Force-Sight: luminous, the Light of his spirit a glow beneath features different here in a way he could never quite describe to the Force-blind – there were no words for it in language Human tongues could pronounce.  So incredibly beautiful, and yet never would it replace the way Obi-Wan looked in regular Human sight: how sunlight played in the liquid copper of his hair, in his changeable sea-water eyes with that perpetual irreverence swimming just barely beneath the surface –

“Qui?”  Obi-Wan looked up at him, rubbing a fingertip lightly along the very rim-edge of one ear.

Qui-Gon shuddered again, hard -- Force, Obi-Wan knew what that did to him.  “Beloved,” Qui-Gon growled, feeling his own voice vibrate in his chest, “so loved – ”

The Force-Light of Obi-Wan’s eyes flared high, and tightening fingers in Qui-Gon’s hair shot a thrill of near-pain down his spine as Obi-Wan dragged his head down and kissed him.

Hot and wet and so good that Obi-Wan’s hand abruptly between them and wrapping around Qui-Gon’s cock took him by surprise, making Qui-Gon gasp into the mouth devouring his.  “Like this,” Obi-Wan grunted, the words barely legible between kisses.  “Like this, together.”

Yes.  So good, so good, nothing had ever in his life felt so right as being with Obi-Wan like this, close to one body as two Humans could get and never mind what the Code said.  This was good and true and Force-willed.  This was right.

Need built hard and fast, fed by Obi-Wan’s desire swelling in great leaps and bounds across the Force, catching Qui-Gon in the flood and sweeping him higher, a willing victim.  

Climax slammed over them in a wave of light harder than any ocean, blood thundering at the crest.  Obi-Wan jerked his mouth away to throw his head back with a cry like pain.  Then he convulsed and went under, and Qui-Gon went down with him, pulled under by Obi-Wan’s touch, Obi-Wan’s pleasure and love and sadness all bursting in Qui-Gon’s head, and for that endless moment there was nothing, nothing, but Obi-Wan.

Sanity crept back slowly, on soft katkin paws.  Qui-Gon yawned and stretched, contentedly exhausted, rubbing his cheekbone against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, basking in the echoes of joy and – wait a minute.

Pleasure and sadness?

Their bond was still wide open and it hadn’t been, earlier; not until Obi-Wan’s shields had come apart under the assault of ecstasy –    

And with that realization came the blaster-shot of memory: the mission gone sour, the ambush, the firefight, the explosion that had thrown him, thrown them both, across the street and into the collapsing rubble –  “Obi-Wan?”

He pushed up and Obi-Wan’s arms tightened, locking them together.  Qui-Gon heard him swallow.

Qui-Gon tensed.  “Obi-Wan.  Let me up and turn on the lights, Padawan; I want to see your face.”

“They’re on,” Obi-Wan whispered, as if any more sound would crack something that couldn’t be mended.  “They’ve been on all the time.”