Disclaimer: Features some humor, and two males sleeping together, and not in a platonic way. If you can't deal, don't keep reading.
I can't even pretend to own the characters or concepts behind Star Wars in any of its various incarnations. And they aren't yet in the public domain, although they should be, dammit! So, all hail to George Lucas and LucasArts and Skywalker Studios and you all know who you are. And just in case anyone's confused, here's where real Star Wars stuff can be found.
The parable of the mouse and the cookie is drawn from the children’s book “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie” written by Laura J. Numeroff and illustrated by Felicia Bond.
The sun rose, spilling a fiery wash of color over the city below. Light, reflected from the crystalline windows, danced across the city and drenched the landscape in luscious reds and golds. Qui-Gon never tired of the beauty of this view. He closed his eyes, and opened himself to the city below, where uncountable lifeforms met and merged and parted in the dance of life. He let himself feel it, delighting in the wonder of the universe and all the things in it. Finally, he turned his thoughts towards the one being he most hungered for.
Obi-Wan was still asleep. His dreams were on no particular topic, just his subconscious sensing the world around him, trying to make sense of all the things he had heard and seen today. Suddenly, his dream-world was enveloped in the sublime sensation of his Master’s touch. Obi-Wan remembered the day before, being so nervous around the other Jedi, fearing that their relationship was somehow taboo, despite Qui-Gon’s continued quiet assurances to the contrary. Finally, Qui-Gon had led him back to their room. They lay down together on the bed, and Qui-Gon had started kissing him. Obi-Wan had eagerly returned the kisses, and they had done nothing more than lay there, kissing each other passionately, until they had fallen asleep.
And now he was awake, and Qui-Gon was kissing him again. Obi-Wan arched under his Master’s delicious kisses, and moaned in pleasure. The older man moved his kisses downward as he gently caressed Obi-Wan’s face. Then, Obi-Wan felt an entirely different sensation, something warm and wet on his neck, and jumped.
Qui-Gon looked up at his young lover in surprise.
“Did you just lick me?” demanded Obi-Wan.
“Yes.” Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, curious. “Why?”
Obi-Wan squirmed a bit under his Master’s composed gaze. “I don’t know, it just seems so... unsanitary.”
Qui-Gon barely managed to stifle a snicker. “Has no one ever licked you before?”
“Not in bed, no,” said Obi-Wan indignantly. “Until now. Why would anyone do such a thing?”
Qui-Gon put his head down for a second, and allowed himself a small laugh. “Let me try this again. Now, hold still, and I’ll show you why, because I do want to lick you. Very much so, in fact.”
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan lay down again, flat on his back. Qui-Gon straddled him, looking down on the younger man. Qui-Gon looked into his lover’s eyes, and waited. He could sense Obi-Wan’s discomfort, and had no intention of proceeding until it was gone. Obi-Wan’s youth and innocence were more precious to Qui-Gon than anything else in his world. He would not carelessly take either from his student. So he sat and waited, knowing that this was a struggle that his young beloved would have to conquer on his own before they could truly be one.
Obi-Wan squirmed, trying to get more comfortable. He knew perfectly well that moving wouldn’t help him calm down; he rather enjoyed having Qui-Gon sitting upon him like this. In fact, if he twisted just a little bit to the left – he did, and was rewarded by the electric touch of his Master’s penis rubbing against his own through their clothes. They both reacted to the touch; Qui-Gon gasped in surprise, and Obi-Wan smiled up at him. Qui-Gon smiled back.
Obi-Wan settled himself into the bed, and tucked his hands comfortably behind his head. “Well?” he asked gently. “I’m ready.”
Qui-Gon smiled again, then slowly moved his hands to cup Obi-Wan’s face before kissing him lightly. He moved his hands down along the side of Obi-Wan’s face and neck, then pulled on the laces holding Obi-Wan’s shirt closed. It opened easily, exposing the strong, broad surface of Obi-Wan’s chest. Qui-Gon laid first one kiss there, then another, then another; a rain of petal-soft kisses that were tantalizing and sweet.
Obi-Wan moaned with pleasure. He raised his hands, and twined his fingers into his Master’s soft hair. Then Qui-Gon shifted his weight, moving his head down to the level of Obi-Wan’s navel. He let his tongue play around the inner curves of Obi-Wan’s navel, then trailed his tongue back up to the sensitive hollow at the base of Obi-Wan’s throat. He revelled in the taste of Obi-Wan’s body, and lapped up the tangy sweat that gathered there. From there, he moved his mouth to Obi-Wan’s nipples, licking and lapping and kissing his lover’s body as it suited him. He gave each breast the barest amount of attention, just enough to make them hard and stiff, before he raised his head to see what effect his attentions were having.
Obi-Wan made a single noise, half a cry, half a moan.
“Well?” whispered Qui-Gon. “Shall I do it again?”
“Please,” whimpered the young padawan. His eyes were half-open, and softly unfocused. His breathing was erratic, and Qui-Gon could feel the young man’s sex straining for release against his leg.
Qui-Gon smiled. “As you wish.” The Jedi Master bent his head again, gently sweeping his tongue over Obi-Wan’s increasingly sensitive nipples. “I like the way you taste, Obi-Wan. I like the way your body feels against my tongue.” He swirled his tongue tightly around one of the stiff, rosy peaks, and was rewarded by a sharp cry of ecstasy.
“Please, Master!” screamed Obi-Wan, desperate, and entirely unaware of what he was begging for.
“And I love it when you cry out for me. I shall have to encourage you to do it more often.” Qui-Gon opened Obi-Wan’s robes even further, exposing more of the young man’s fine body. “You are very beautiful to look at, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan didn’t bother to reply. He pulled off the rest of his clothes, and on impulse, started to pull off Qui-Gon’s as well.
“Slowly,” commanded the Jedi Master.
Obi-Wan looked as him in disbelief. “You want this as much as I do, Master.”
“Your choices must come from the heart, Obi-Wan, and they should get there by way of your head, not your hormones.”
Obi-Wan sighed in frustration. He took his Master’s hand, and laid it over his heart. “Master, I want this as much as you do. With every part of my being that can beg for it, I want you.” He opened himself to Qui-Gon’s senses, pleading with his Master to sense and accept his desperate longing, and then to appease it.
Qui-Gon let himself ride the wild wave of Obi-Wan’s need. He could feel the truth of his student’s statement; the rightness of what was about to happen. He pulled Obi-Wan closer, and they kissed again. Love and need swept between them, washing away all doubts and confusion.
“Master,” breathed Obi-Wan softly. He was trembling. Qui-Gon stroked his student’s back, trying to calm him. Obi-Wan opted to find calm through action, and pulled off his Master’s robes, unwrapping him layer by layer to reveal the strongly muscled form beneath. Obi-Wan stared in awe. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He swallowed nervously, suddenly afraid that his own smaller body would no longer appeal.
Qui-Gon laughed, still attuned to Obi-Wan’s thoughts and feelings. “You think foolish thoughts, young one.” He slowly traced the outlines of Obi-Wan’s finely muscled torso. “Such beauty,” he murmured. “I wish to be worthy of your devotion, Obi-Wan. You do not know how precious this gift is, that you offer me.”
Obi-Wan smiled shyly, and kissed his Master, hard, on the lips. “I could give neither my devotion nor my body to no other than you, Master.”
“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” murmured Qui-Gon. He hugged his student tightly, then kissed him again.
“Now will you make love to me, Master?”
“Yes, Obi-Wan,” he smiled.
“Thank you, Master,” said Obi-Wan with a happy laugh.
Qui-Gon laid his student down on the bed again, carefully arranging the younger man for his delectation. “Now, where was I?” he mused to himself, and to make Obi-Wan laugh joyously. “Ah, there.” He dove in, stroking the tender nipples with his tongue until Obi-Wan screamed. He pulled himself up for a kiss. Naked as they both were, it was simple enough for the younger man to wrap his legs around Qui-Gon’s waist so that their sexes were in constant, torturous contact.
A sudden vision swept over Obi-Wan, of himself on his stomach with his legs spread, and his Master behind him, thrusting into him in total ecstasy. Desire, like a wildfire, consumed him, and he writhed under his Master. “Please, Master,” he wailed, “I want you. Please!”
Qui-Gon rocked from the strength of Obi-Wan’s vision. “Shh,” he whispered, trying to calm his Padawan. “Yes, soon, let me ready you first. Let me make you mine, in my own way.” He held Obi-Wan tightly, and whispered more soothing words until the wave of desire receded, and left Obi-Wan trembling in his arms. “You were always meant to be mine,” Qui-Gon heard himself whisper. “My student, my beloved, my Padawan.”
“Yes,” whispered Obi-Wan breathlessly.
“Mine,” whispered Qui-Gon, and his hands roamed down the shuddering body in his arms until his hands rested on the curves beneath Obi-Wan’s back, hard muscle and sensual roundness in one erotic package. One hand went further, following the dark crevice to the small ring of muscle that protected the entrance to Obi-Wan’s young body. He pulled Obi-Wan up higher, and the younger man obliged him by throwing his arms around his Master’s shoulders and spreading his legs to provide him with all the access that he needed.
Qui-Gon called the soft jar of lubricant that he kept in his things to him, and generously covered his fingers with the cool, slick substance. Obi-Wan was about to make a joke about proper uses for the Force, but Qui-Gon touched him first. The lubricant was already warm from Qui-Gon’s body heat, and Obi-Wan moaned at the first hint of pressure as Qui-Gon filled him with the silky lotion. His fingers easily entered young Obi-Wan’s body, and the young man’s moans increased in both frequency and volume as Qui-Gon caressed the interior of his tight channel.
Qui-Gon tilted his head to kiss Obi-Wan, who was thoroughly lost on the paths of desire. “At my age, I find the intensity of your response to be quite gratifying,” he smiled. Obi-Wan could not reply; his Master’s fingers were touching something inside him that was making him see stars. He could barely remember to breathe. Qui-Gon kissed him again, blowing his warm breath into Obi-Wan’s mouth.
All the barriers between them were gone now. Obi-Wan knew everything about his Master in that instant. His hunger for Obi-Wan’s youth, his fear of failure, his determination not to lose Obi-Wan as he had the one before him. The truth that he had never truly loved either his own Master or his previous two students the way he loved Obi-Wan, that he had gone through the motions required believing himself to be flawed. That only now did he realize that this gifted young Padawan was what he needed more than anything else in the galaxy. Obi-Wan could see for himself how hard the Force had fought to bring and keep them together.
Obi-Wan knew, too, that his Master could see everything in his soul as well. He could see Obi-Wan’s fears of failure, mirroring his own. He could see Obi-Wan’s internal struggle with the decision to become a Jedi, and that the guidepost on his path was his love for his Master. He could see Obi-Wan’s blurred memories of his childhood, reflected in his inborn ability to sense the powers between that bound every living thing to one another. He could see the loneliness that had haunted Obi-Wan since his first days of awareness that he could be alone, and the desire that drove him to find another to keep him from feeling the emptiness inside.
Words were useless here, and where a Jedi normally disdained the physical, it was what they needed now. Obi-Wan buried his face in the curve of his Master’s neck, not trying to stifle his moans, but just seeking more physical contact. Obi-Wan discovered that rocking his body gently on Qui-Gon’s hand inside him made the most wonderful sensations run up and down his spine, and he settled into an easy rhythm. Qui-Gon kissed his neck, the top of his head, any part of Obi-Wan’s sweat-slicked body that he could reach while he let his lover’s body get used to the sensation of having something inside him.
Finally Qui-Gon pulled away, holding Obi-Wan still. “My way,” he whispered to the startled young man. “We will do this my way.” He wanted to share this moment with Obi-Wan completely. “Lie down.”
Understanding now, Obi-Wan obediently turned over and lay down on the bed. Qui-Gon applied more lubricant to his throbbing staff before carefully aligning himself with the warm, slick hole that led to the ultimate pleasure he had sought for so long. Qui-Gon thrust gently, but even so, Obi-Wan gasped, unprepared for the sheer massiveness of his Master’s body as it tried to enter him. Qui-Gon held back for a moment, until Obi-Wan’s breathing returned to normal, and he pushed forward a few inches more. Fiery waves of pleasure washed over Obi-Wan, and he instinctively pushed back a bit to meet his Master’s next thrust.
Qui-Gon sighed in quiet ecstasy, and took firm hold of Obi-Wan’s body to ensure that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt him, before thrusting himself in to the hilt. Obi-Wan wailed in astonished bliss. He’d never dreamed that anything could feel so wonderful, so fulfilling. Qui-Gon smiled, and drew back to bury himself in Obi-Wan’s body again.
“Touch yourself,” Qui-Gon suggested. “Come with me.” He held Obi-Wan up while the younger man shifted his weight onto one arm so that he could follow his Master’s suggestion. Obi-Wan tried to match his strokes to Qui-Gon’s thrusts, following his rhythm closely enough to fill the room with wild cries from both men as they drowned in the flood of sensations that was washing between them.
Qui-Gon touched Obi-Wan everywhere, twisting and stroking his nipples, smoothing the hard planes of his back, touching his legs, kissing the back of his neck, his ears, until finally Obi-Wan twisted his head enough so that they could kiss while Qui-Gon took him from behind.
Qui-Gon reached the pinnacle first, his thick sex twitching and spewing his life’s fluid into Obi-Wan’s body. He collapsed on top of his lover, and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s body, joining hands with Obi-Wan’s, still busy with his own completion.
Obi-Wan, having gone through a series of plateaus, peaked shortly afterwards, with another set of hands helping him and Qui-Gon’s penis slowly shrinking inside him. He screamed one final time, before collapsing in his Master’s arms.
The connection between them slowly began to fade, until it returned to the level of openness that they lived with everyday. Qui-Gon smiled down at his exhausted love, and pulled up the blankets before gathering the beautiful young man into his arms to sleep.
As usual, Obi-Wan woke before his Master the next morning. He disentangled himself from Qui-Gon’s arms, and slid out of bed. His body still tingled with the afterglow of love and sex.
Qui-Gon woke up while Obi-Wan was in the shower. Without rising, Qui-Gon turned to watch his student emerge, dripping and clad only in a towel.
“Good morning.” Qui-Gon’s voice was unusually husky, colored by his sudden uncontrollable desire for his lover’s touch.
Obi-Wan smiled in return. “So, Master, what do you want for breakfast?”
“I....” Qui-Gon pretended to think about it. “I would like you to get back into bed.”
Obi-Wan blushed. “Master! All the other apprentices have already gone to fetch the morning meal. What do you want?”
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. “You worry too much about what other people think. Fine. I would like some iced chiai, and then I would like you to get back into bed.”
“Master! Be serious!”
Qui-Gon sat up. The light coverlets slid away to reveal his definite arousal. “Now, what makes you think I am not being serious?”
Obi-Wan gulped at the sight. Now he was aroused as well. “Well, if you give a mouse a cookie....” he muttered. “I’ll get the chiai and some bread.”
“What?”
“Hmm?” Obi-Wan looked back at his Master.
“If you give a mouse a cookie,” he prompted.
Obi-Wan smiled. “It’s a children’s story. You’ve never heard it?”
Qui-Gon shook his head. “No, tell me.”
With a smile, Obi-Wan returned to the bed. “Basically, if you give a mouse a cookie,” he recited, “he’s going to want a glass of milk to go with it. But mice are too small to drink from a glass, so he’ll need a straw to drink his milk. But he’ll spill it, because mice are like that. And that leads to a whole series of mishaps, that ends with the mouse getting a new glass of milk. And if you give a mouse a glass of milk, you’ll just have to give him a cookie to go with it.”
“Of course,” Qui-Gon agreed. “The gift defines the giver.”
“Thank you,” said Obi-Wan smartly. “You’ve managed to make a simple child’s story into a Jedi parable. Is nothing safe?”
Qui-Gon shook his head. “The Force is everywhere, young Padawan. In you, in me, even in a simple tale such as you just told me.”
Obi-Wan bent down to kiss his Master again. “Does that mean I don’t have to wait too long before I get it inside me again?” he asked mischievously.
“If you give a mouse a cookie,” Qui-Gon growled, and pulled Obi-Wan back into bed with him.
The last Parable: Who Guards the Sheep