The dimly lit room gave him courage, as though he could hide his face and intentions. Leaning close, feeling Qui-Gon's breath on his mouth, Obi-Wan tilted his head forward hesitantly. Just a bit more and he would be touching, almost...
Obi-Wan's lips trembled as they brushed Qui-Gon's softly, a delicate sweep, like an artist laying the final brush stroke to his masterpiece. A swift graze of lips, a tickling brush of mustache, and Obi-Wan drew back his head slightly, watching for his master's eyes to open, unable to move or breathe for fear of waking Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon stirred lightly but didn't wake, and only then did Obi-Wan dare le t out a shaky breath.
There. A kiss. Hardly a sin, that.
Obi-Wan drew himself back slowly, balancing his weight precariously again st the cushions so as not to disturb a silver hair on his master's head. He licked his lips lightly, his tongue searching for a discernable taste of Qui-Gon and finding none. Well, it certainly hadn't been much of a kiss, really. Hardly a kiss worthy of the risk he'd just taken, if it could really even be considered a kiss, Obi-Wan thought wryly.
Obi-Wan peered down at the oblivious form resting below him; Qui-Gon's eyes were still closed in slumber, his chest rising and falling in night-spawned shadow. Long, course hair spread loosely over broad shoulders. The small lines at his eyes, surely caused by some other padawan, smooth now in peaceful slumber.
Just one more touch, he told himself. Just one more, and then he was adjourning to his room before he... Well, before he woke Qui-Gon.
Leaning closer, his tunic brushing Qui-Gon's robe lightly with an enticing rustle, Obi-Wan pressed his mouth to his master's again. If this was the last kiss he would know from Qui-Gon, requited or not, he was going to make the most of it. He'd waited so long for such a simple touch. Closing his eyes, he assimilated into memory the feel of warm, sleeping lips as he dared to press his mouth to Qui-Gon's firmly.
Secret delight at the fullness of his master's bottom lip, moving under his tender caress. A smile as that tiny thatch of course hairs under Qui-Gon's full lip brushed against him, scratching in a ticklish way. He opened his lips slightly and felt Qui -Gon's part with the pull of his own. Recklessness forgotten in the enchantment of the moment, he probed his tongue for a taste of his master before quickly pulling away in a daze. Unbelievably, Qui-Gon still hadn't stirred. Obi-Wan let his forehead rest nearly against his master's, attempting to still his frazzled nerves.
"I love you, you know." Obi-Wan felt a relief of sorts in whispering his long-kept secret, releasing it to the universe if only to be heard by himself. It felt as though something had hitched itself free inside of him, as if an oppressive burden had been expelled with his words.
Before Qui-Gon's shadowed form could tempt him to any more recklessness, Obi-Wan sighed, resigned to holding his secret still, and turned toward his bedroom. A bedroom that would undoubtedly seem twice as lonely tonight.
The sounds of a teacup and padd hitting the floor were Obi-Wan's only warning before his braid was gripped loosely, holding him back. Unable to hide his surprise, Obi-Wan turned back to see Qui-Gon's face looking up to his. Azure eyes, glassy with sleep slit open in an unwavering gaze.
"Master--" Oh little green gods, how to explain. His throat tightened and his jaw worked, opening and closing, but Obi-Wan could find no voice, as his braid remained firmly captive between long, thick fingers.
In his impulsiveness, he hadn't actually given a thought to what he would say if he were caught. If he were completely honest with himself, he'd guess this was exactly what he'd wanted all along; that he'd be forced to tell Qui-Gon how he felt, and that all these months of secretive glances and pent-up emotions would finally be at an end, one way or another. The self-realization gave him strength to look into Qui-Gon's eyes, ready to accept what ever he found there.
Qui-Gon's expression was absolutely inscrutable; in the darkened room, Obi-Wan could just barely discern blue eyes glistening with reflected lights, simply staring up at Obi-Wan.
Then the thick hand capturing his braid was pulling him closer until he had no choice but to kneel into the couch, straddling Qui-Gon's legs awkwardly, their faces a mere handspan apart. The padawan braced himself inwardly, prepared for the eyebrows to gather in a frown, followed closely by the imminent lecture on the ways of impulsive padawans.
Instead, Qui-Gon tipped his head slightly and tugged Obi-Wan closer, until their lips were the merest breath apart. This was hardly the reaction he'd expected, but Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's overture with a strong press of lips, feeling a charge of disbeli ef and delight flash through him.
Their lips touched tenderly in a light sweep, testing softness, moving to gether awkwardly at first, then settling to a pleasant cadence of caresses. The thick hand that held his braid moved up his shoulder to curve around his neck, thumb caressing his hair as Qui-Gon's hand brought their lips together with steady insistence.
Qui-Gon's lips opened then, like a flower to the bright sun, and Obi-Wan accepted the invitation, dipping his tongue into the taste of Qui-Gon. Their tongues caressed and explored, lips parting and meeting again, hesitantly at first, and then anxiousl y. The only sound Obi-Wan heard that of soft, moist kisses, and his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. He thrilled at the act of leaning over Qui-Gon like this, controlling the kiss without second thought.
Without thought, they drew each other closer. Obi-Wan moved one hand to his master's shoulder to brace himself, the other hand daring to move lower of its own volition. He traced the outline of open hem in master's sleep shirt, down the V, up and down again, eliciting a soft sigh and a slight tightening of hands at his back.
Obi-Wan let his hands wander slowly downward under the soft material. He was lost in sensation, concentrating on the curves of the sparsely haired chest, moving boldly downward until his hands brushed the top of his master's sleeping pants.
And then Qui-Gon's hands stopped his firmly.
Obi-Wan turned questioning eyes to his master and was greeted with a lazy smile, the likes of which Obi-Wan had never seen cross his master's face. Still smirking, Qui-Gon pulled at the edge of Obi-Wan's tunic until the padawan settled himself onto his master's lap.
Before his actions could register on Obi-Wan's mind, Qui-Gon's mouth was at the nape of his neck, kissing and nipping tenderly, as Obi-Wan's tunic, and then undertunic, were slipped easily from his shoulders. Obi-Wan pushed disbelief to the back of his mind as rough hands spread out over his chest, tracing his flesh, rough palms sliding along the contours of his body. His master's hands roved lazily over and around every inflection of skin they could reach.
Blue eyes watched him closely then, as Qui-Gon deftly loosened the tie of his sleep pants. Obi-Wan knew it was not only physical desire, but love, and the Force, that brought them here.
Slowly, fingertips crept down his stomach, beneath the thin border of leggings, until they lightly rubbed his hardening penis. One hand gently tugged the front of his leggings lower as the other moved over his growing erection with a benevolent touch, freeing his hardening flesh of its bounds. Qui-Gon stroked him reverently and he shuddered at the incredible feel of his master's knowing touch. Obi-Wan had fanaticized on this moment for so long, but he'd never imagined it could be this indescribably go od.
Gazing into Qui-Gon's eyes, Obi-Wan felt the need to reciprocate, to share this new-found pleasure. He let his fingertips dance lightly over the thin path of dark hair descending Qui-Gon's belly, disappearing into the sleep pants below.
Obi-Wan touched his master tentatively, running fingers lightly over Qui-Gon's thickness, even as Qui-Gon's hand continued to stroke him in a slow, steady rhythm. He tested the hardness lengthening against his palm, he explored slowly, searching for t he pleasurable places that brought a hitch to his master's breath. Following Qui-Gon's lead, Obi-Wan released his master's penis from his sleep pants, gently but eagerly, stroking lightly as Qui-Gon's eyes glowed with ravenous pleasure.
Obi-Wan's snuggled his feet between the couch cushions as Qui-Gon's hand slid behind his narrow hips, bringing them closer with a strong tug. Obi-Wan's rear tucked firmly between his master's thighs, their knuckles grazed as he matched Qui-Gon stroke for exquisite stroke.
Obi-Wan leaned in for another kiss and Qui-Gon met him enthusiastically, breathlessly, stroking and kissing with hand and tongue in time to Obi-Wan's motions.
The Force was swirling between them, baring latent emotion and boiling Obi-Wan's blood with pleasure, binding them together. Blocking out peripheral reality until it was just he and Qui-Gon in a sensation Obi-Wan found completely surreal. Obi-Wan felt his love returned in Qui-Gon's touch, in the swirling mystery of the Force around them, and gave himself to the moment.
Feel, don't think; there are no words. Obi-Wan nearly laughed at the ironic remembrance of Qui-Gon's oft-repeated lesson. Yes, he could do that. Live in this moment and do naught but feel like this for a very, very long time.
And suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to see his teacher lost in the uncontrollable rapture he felt. He opened his fingers, joining his penis and Qui-Gon's within his grasp. Obi-Wan brushed a palm over the leaking tips and then grasped with his slick palm, stroking easily with their blended fluid.
Hardness to hardness, they moved together, Qui-Gon's hands resting at his thighs, guiding the steady rocking motions of their hips.
Obi-Wan's hand stroked their joined lengths, slipping beneath for a gentle squeeze of the sacs below before gliding up and around all over again. The sound of his master's throaty moans drove Obi-Wan on, feeling burning heat as his cock rubbed within his own fist and Qui-Gon's driving cock, thrusting faster within the tight passage. One of Qui-Gon's hands slipped around his, urging him to squeeze h arder, move faster.
They moved together, hips undulating and pleasure sliding in the slick channel of their clasped hands. Qui-Gon clutched desperately at his hip, gasping loudly in barely contained control.
Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't last much longer. The pleasure was peaking as they moved faster, growing within.
He watched Qui-Gon's face then; eyes closed and a deep furrow of pleasure etched across the forehead. Obi-Wan felt a jolt of pleasure peak through him knowing he'd brought this pleasure to Qui-Gon. He did this to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan moved then, rubbing that spot, there, that made his master's chin tip up, his chest heave in pleasure before giving a soft cry. The muscles of Qui-Gon's body strained in Obi-Wan's grip as warm, wet pleasure covered their fists and spattered Obi-Wan's stomach.
Qui-Gon's orgasm fired heat and the living Force into Obi-Wan's nerves, and he followed his master over the edge, back arching and pleasure spill ing from him in a blinding daze.
Their sweat-bathed foreheads rested together as they each worked to catch their breath, Obi-Wan's breathing slowing before his master's. He watched as Qui-Gon's breathing restored to normalcy, and looked to his master to find his gaze returned.
All the things Obi-Wan had dreamed he would tell his master when the moment was right, and certainly, as confessions of love were timed, this was right, and suddenly, they all seemed so insubstantial. So inconsequential in the face of what they'd just shared.
"Qui-Gon--" he whispered.
Qui-Gon leaned him gently to the side, their weight combining to lay their exhausted bodies down on the couch. Pulling his sleep robe from behind him, Qui-Gon cleaned them tenderly before tossing the robe to the floor and pulling Obi-Wan to him.
Fingertips drew lazy circles over his bare back and Obi-Wan fought the inexorable draw of sleep tugging at him. Consciousness nearly overtook him before he heard Qui-Gon's voice softly in his ear.
"So long I've waited, Obi-Wan," he whispered. "I love you, too."
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