Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A Tatooine night, our two Jedi and a com-link
Deep within the sleek, silver transport the soft chime of a comlink roused Obi-Wan into instant wakefulness. The Jedi apprentice took a deep breath and instantly released it as he rolled to his side to accept the call, his movements less graceful than usual due to the lingering effects of the dream his consciousness had been submerged in.
"Padawan." Qui-Gon Jinn's smooth, rich tones filled the small cabin and Obi-Wan smiled, stretching sinuously on the cool sheets and allowing himself to savor the complexities his Master's voice could endow in that single word.
"Yes, Master?" The younger Jedi's voice was husky with sleep but alert. "What is it?"
Qui-Gon leaned back on the sand-blasted wall behind him, one booted foot resting on the low parapet that surrounded the ledge outside Shmi Skywalker's home. Shadows flickered inside the humble accommodations and the cloudless night sky spread out overhead like a black cloak inset with tiny crystals. At this time of the night - more early morning actually - even the hardiest denizens of Mos Espa had dragged themselves to their lodgings and the streets were quiet.
Recognizing the raspy timbre clinging to his apprentice's speech, Qui-Gon leaned his head against the stone wall, his blue eyes half closed. "I hope I did not disturb anything, Padawan." There was a faint tinge of humor to his words. The bond he and Obi-Wan shared was so deep, so all encompassing that the thought of either straying was laughable.
"Only a dream Master, but it is worth it to hear your voice." Having gleaned from a swift investigation of their bond that there was no emergency or other urgent reason for this call, Obi-Wan stretched again, this time indulging in the fantasy that his teacher and lover was there with him.
Qui-Gon shifted one hip onto the low wall, making himself more comfortable as the rush of his apprentice's feelings swept over him. Now was not the time or place for such things - or so he should have reminded the younger man. The image of his Padawan's slim, muscled body twisting on his bed fixed itself firmly in the Jedi Master's mind and refused to be banished.
"Obi-Wan . . ." Qui-Gon growled, rearranging himself again when his body proved to be as oblivious to his warning as his apprentice was.
Instantly chagrined, Obi-Wan lay still, trying to calm himself and cease projecting his emotions. "I am sorry, Master. I should be mindful of our mission and not my own desires." Control was of great importance to a Jedi but at times like this Obi-Wan felt he had less than a first year trainee when it came to his teacher.
"Be at ease, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured, manipulating the Force to send a warm caress over his apprentice's face. He should have known better than to contact the other man this late at night when emotions were at their highest and control at it's ebb. He had intended to wait until after the pod race when he would have had more information to pass on to his apprentice and Queen Amidala but despite his plans something had driven him from the thin pallet Anakin's mother provided to this small sanctuary, the need to speak to his Padawan too strong to be denied.
The touch of the living Force soothed Obi-Wan and he relaxed once again. "Is there something you need, Master?" he asked again, still unsure as to the reason behind this call.
The Jedi Master lowered his gaze to the small device in his hand, a thousand different answers pressing against the back of his lips. "What were you dreaming about, Padawan?" Qui-Gon's voice had softened, its intonations those of the lover and not the teacher. A silence greeted his question in which he could swear he felt the heat of his apprentice's blush through the link.
The answer was obvious even though it took Obi-Wan a moment to verbalize it. "You, Master." Praying that no one was listening to this conversation, he darted a look around the small, spartan cabin, torn between begging his Master to stop this line of questioning and pleading for him to continue.
Lifting a hand to massage the back of his neck under the heavy fall of his hair, Qui-Gon smiled, feeling the tension in his body tighten a notch more. "And?" he prompted gently, his voice flowing like a silken caress over his apprentice's mind.
Groaning softly as the deep tone reawakened the barely banked fires within him, Obi-Wan licked his desert dry lips, telling himself it was the rough velvet of the older man's tongue he felt moving over them. "We - we are . . ." His breathing had changed to short gasps which he was sure were audible over the link transmission.
_Still the innocent, Padawan,_ Qui-Gon chuckled, mentally soothing his apprentice's thoughts without banking his desire. "Making love? Like this? Or this?" Detailed images accompanied each question - visions of master and student intertwined, their bodies sliding together in the ecstasy of the unity of body and mind.
"Yesss . . ." Obi-Wan hissed, his back arching off the bed and his hand sliding down his bare chest and into his sleep pants to grasp his weeping erection. One image in particular caught his attention and he arched upward violently, seeking the weight of his Master's powerful body over his.
The vision took on the dimensions of reality as Qui-Gon's words resonated in his apprentice's ears, detailing each touch, each taste, creating a private world all their own. Moaning quietly, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, Obi-Wan gave himself over to the easy seduction of his Master's power. Imaginary lips closed over his and gray-streaked hair stroked his shoulders and face as he felt himself filled to the limit by the Jedi Master's length.
Drawing the comlink closer to his face to keep his Padawan's gasps and moans from echoing through the still night air, Qui-Gon continued speaking, falling under the spell he sought to cast as easily as his apprentice had. Tight heat surrounded his aching member and he could taste the salty flavor of Obi-Wan's sweat on his tongue as he laved the younger man's damp flesh.
Closing his teeth around the side of side of his student's neck, Qui-Gon was rewarded with a throaty groan and a wild thrashing that urged himself to drive deeper and explore the paradise of Obi-Wan's body to the fullest.
"Master, oh yes." Blue eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and love, Obi-Wan gazed into the empty air before him, seeing only the image created by the Force sparking between himself and Qui-Gon. Throwing his head back to invite a more blatant marking of his smooth skin, the younger Jedi bucked upward then felt his body implode as his hot seed erupted, coating his hand and stomach.
The reply was a while in coming as Qui-Gon struggled to regain control of his breathing and to twitch the folds of his poncho into an arrangement that concealed his all too evident reaction to his Padawan's climax. "You should sleep now, Obi-Wan," he husked, slowly lessening the mental contact between them but not before sending his apprentice a final caress.
"Yes Master," Obi-Wan sighed, a lazy, satisfied grin playing about his kiss-swollen lips. "Be careful tomorrow. And remember - you are loved."
Swinging his leg down and standing carefully, Qui-Gon looked out across the desert landscape in the direction of the cruiser. "As are you, Obi-Wan, as are you."
Receiving a sleepy murmur in answer, the elder Jedi closed off the link and turned to reenter the dwelling in the hope of cleaning himself up before anyone else arose. What had just occurred might not have been the wisest course of action he could have taken, but he would not change it or rescind it for anything. Something nagging at the back of his mind told him there would be very few chances left for such things - at least on this mission.