Archive: yes
Archive Date: January 27, 2000
Author's Webpage: http://adult.dencity.com/PumpkinPatch/
Category: PWP
Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm
Feedback: is always a treat
Notes: someone asked what kind of cookies Obi-Wan was making in
the January 11th snapshot and I gave a silly answer. This is the
longer version. It's kind of a Snapshots AU story. Thanks to
michelle and Destina for betaing -all remaining problems are a
figment of your imagination ::waving of hands::.
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Qui-Gon walked slowly, matching his pace to that of his former master. They turned the corner, arriving in the hall where Qui- Gon's quarters were located. He stopped and looked suspiciously down at the ancient Jedi at his side.
"Perhaps carry me you should," suggested Yoda calmly.
Qui-Gon had to bend down in order to hear him over the din made by the crowd of young people milling about, the highest concentration of them being right in front of Qui-Gon's door. Qui-Gon dropped to one knee and held his cupped hand near the floor. Yoda stepped onto the fashioned stair, then up to Qui-Gon's leg and finally his shoulders. Qui-Gon stood as the old master settled himself. The whole manoeuvre took only seconds and was performed with the ease and grace of long familiarity. As Qui-Gon began to walk, one three-fingered hand wrapped around the tail that held Qui-Gon's hair out of his face.
"That still isn't a handle, Master," Qui-Gon growled.
"I do not want to fall. Crowded with many beings your hall is. All tall."
"Yes, I wonder what could be going on," replied Qui-Gon dryly.
"Only one way to find out there is."
"Indeed," said Qui-Gon, pushing his way through the throng. He was almost at the door when the smell hit him, confirming his suspicions. Master Yoda always seemed to know when Obi-Wan was making cookies. Somehow he always managed to garner the lion's share of them, usually while they were still warm. Today, he'd obviously wrangled the invitation to tea with his former padawan with an ulterior motive.
But no matter. Qui-Gon could feel his heart begin to beat rapidly and his annoyance with Master Yoda faded as he imagined what he would find on the other side of his door. Obi-Wan would be stripped down to his leggings and his light under-tunic. He would be flushed, sweating slightly, with flour and sugar dusted here and there on him. The place would smell twice as good as the hall did. And if he could ditch his former Master, Obi-Wan would feed him warm cookies in all sorts of imaginative ways. Which of course would lead to things even better than cookies.
"Tell me something, Master," said Qui-Gon as he palmed open the door.
"Hmmm?"
"How do you always know when Obi-Wan is baking?"
"Excellent nose I have, Padawan."
"Your quarters are several levels above this one and the Council Chambers are at the very top of the tower," Qui-Gon protested.
"In 800 years learned to keep some things secret, I have."
"Which just means you aren't going to tell me," said Qui-Gon.
"Smart my padawan is."
"Former padawan," Qui-Gon said absently as he closed the door, ignoring the murmurs filling the hall. He stood still a moment, taking a deep breath and holding it as if to absorb the wonderful smell in through his lungs. He chuckled as he realised that Master Yoda was doing the same thing.
Bending again, to one knee, Qui-Gon gave his former Master a hand getting down. He was still kneeling when Obi-Wan came in from the kitchen. Obi-Wan was dressed exactly as Qui-Gon had imagined and he was wiping his hands on a small towel which was hooked through his belt.
"I thought I heard the door," Obi-Wan said before bowing towards the small Jedi. "Master Yoda."
"Obi-Wan," said Yoda, leaning on his stick, his ears twitching forward, "baking today?"
"As you well know, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan turned toward Qui-Gon, a small smile dancing across his features. "And you don't have to beg, Master -I've made them especially for you."
Qui-Gon chuckled as he stood.
"Many cookies you have made?" asked Yoda hopefully.
"Of course, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied, going back into the kitchen.
"Like him I do," said Yoda, turning back to Qui-Gon. "I foresee great things for his future."
"Is that foresight or the cookies talking?"
"Hrmph." Master Yoda's ears bent against his head and he turned his back on Qui-Gon, looking toward the kitchen. Qui-Gon cleared his throat, stifling his chuckle, but Yoda's back stiffened as though he knew his former padawan found him amusing. Obi-Wan returned to the common room before any more could be said.
"Here you go, Master Yoda."
"More there are?" the little Jedi asked, looking somewhat disappointedly at the plate stacked with cookies that Obi-Wan gave to him.
"Yes, but for the others. If you go out there with all of them and don't share, I don't think they'll let you leave."
"Hmmm. Point you may have." His ears curled slightly forward and his eyes lit with humour. "You wish me to leave now, do you not?"
"Yes, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied with a grin.
"Very well." He turned back to his former padawan. "Owe me tea you do," he said, pointing the walking stick at Qui-Gon.
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon ushered Yoda out the door, shaking his head and shoving the extra cookies along with the small Master. He closed the door against the loud protest from the waiting padawans as Yoda made his way through the throng with the large plate of cookies.
"What's the matter, Master?"
"I just wonder how he always knows when you're making cookies."
"Who -Master Yoda?"
"Yes."
"I call him."
"What?"
"I call him and let him know."
"Why that little-"
"Master!"
"I asked him and he made it sound like some sort of ancient Jedi secret that he wasn't going to share."
"Ah, so that's where you get it."
"What?"
"You do exactly the same thing."
"I do no-" Qui-Gon broke off as he remembered several occasions where he had done something similar with Obi-Wan. "Why are we talking about Master Yoda when there are fresh cookies to be had?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.
Obi-Wan grinned at him, letting him know that he wasn't fooled, but nonetheless would go along with the subject change. He motioned Qui-Gon towards the couch and went to the kitchen for a plate of cookies. Qui-Gon breathed in deeply again, savouring the smell and anticipating Obi-Wan's return. His stomach growled just as Obi-Wan came back into the room. Chuckling, Obi-Wan straddled his legs, letting their groins settle carefully together.
"I made your favourite," Obi-Wan said softly as he popped a chunk of the cookie into Qui-Gon's mouth.
Qui-Gon groaned around the cookie, closing his eyes to savour the taste as the warm caramel chunks melted further in the heat of his mouth. Obi-Wan rolled his hips and Qui-Gon groaned again as heat and hardness moved against him.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan picked up a cookie and began to eat it, making a show of nibbling around the edges. Obi-Wan's even white teeth sank into the soft cookie and he licked his lips far longer than Qui-Gon believed was really necessary. Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan made an appreciative moaning sound. Qui-Gon echoed it and stretched slightly, his hardening shaft pressing along Obi-Wan's, seeking the heat.
Qui-Gon reached out and pulled Obi-Wan's mouth to his own, pressing his tongue between his padawan's lips. He could taste the flavour of the cookie lingering in Obi-Wan's mouth and beneath that, the honeyed sweetness of Obi-Wan himself. Panting through his nose to avoid breaking the kiss, Qui-Gon was further enmeshed in the combined scents of cookie and padawan -oatmeal, coconut and caramel twining with honey, spice and musk.
Pressing Obi-Wan forward, Qui-Gon grabbed his bottom and brought their erections together once more. He softened his grip, letting Obi-Wan shift back slightly before bringing them together again. Obi-Wan's knees pressed tightly against the outside of his thighs as Obi-Wan began to undulate with the rhythm Qui-Gon was setting. Obi-Wan's arms came up around Qui-Gon's neck and the kiss deepened. Qui-Gon began to push his hips off the couch, meeting Obi-Wan's movements. He slid his hands between their bodies, fumbling with the fastenings of their trousers. Obi-Wan moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved against Obi-Wan's hardness. A few moments of fumbling, during which neither man broke their kiss or stopped their rhythmic rolling, and Qui-Gon had freed both their penises.
Obi-Wan's mouth pulled away with a gasp as their erections met, flesh to flesh. Pressing his hips tighter against Qui-Gon's, Obi- Wan threw his head back and increased the pace. Qui-Gon craned forward to suck at the throat left open and exposed to him, revelling in the speeding pulse that throbbed against his tongue, and the vibrations as Obi-Wan moaned. Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan close, their erections pressing tightly together.
Warmth flooded against Qui-Gon's belly, the scent of Obi-Wan's completion flooding through him, sparking his own orgasm. When the pleasure began to recede, leaving his brain functioning once again, Qui-Gon found himself still reclining on the couch, Obi-Wan lying pressed against him. He crossed his hands around Obi-Wan's back and drew the warm body tightly against his chest, squeezing tightly.
"The cookies are excellent, as always," Qui-Gon said with a small chuckle.
Obi-Wan pressed his hands against Qui-Gon's chest, mouth quirking into a half smile.
"Would you like another?"