Archive: Yes
Archive Date: June 25, 2001
Author's Webpage: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/
Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm.
Feedback: is always appreciated
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: G - NC17
Summary: The date listed is the date the 'snapshot' was
written/posted. Each piece is a segment within the same
universe, but they are not in any sort of order. Each piece
stands alone. The snapshots will run the gamut from G to
NC17. Some may be several pages long, some only a couple of
paragraphs; some will contain smut, many will not; they will
be different styles with different voices.
May 01, 2001
"Qui-Gon, I want you." Obi-Wan knew he was whining, but he couldn't help it. Three months of negotiations with the Rindi, and no end in sight. It was actually a pretty cushy mission. Except for the fact that they were expected to abstain from any sexual contact with others.
"Release your desires to the Force, Padawan."
"I've been releasing so much the Force itself is starting to get horny," complained Obi-Wan.
"Well there's always..." his master stopped speaking and turned to him, a wide smile on his face. "There is always masturbation. The edict is quite clear - no sexual contact with others."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He didn't want to masturbate, he wanted to make love with Qui-Gon, wanted to touch the man and be touched in return, living flesh of another human being. He was about to begin complaining again when his master held up his hand.
"You do know how to masturbate, don't you, Padawan?" asked Qui-Gon, enunciating each word with care.
Obi-Wan just looked at him, wondering if the sexual frustration had finally gotten to the man. Qui-Gon was staring back, an amorous look in his eyes.
"Well, Padawan? Do you know how to masturbate, or not?"
"Actually," replied Obi-Wan, wide smile crossing his features as his master's intent became suddenly clear. "I don't. Perhaps you could teach me?"
"Certainly. It is after all my duty as your master."
May 02, 2001
Obi-Wan slid his hand down his torso, heading without pre-amble toward his goal. Fingers sliding beneath his tunic, he worked his way beneath his waistband.
"Ah..." he breathed in relief as he scratched the itch in his pubic hair.
May 03, 2001
Obi-Wan woke slowly, awareness spreading through him. He stretched, luxuriating in the sensations of his body within its skin; muscles shifted, blood pumped, breath filled his lungs.
He reached up and touched the bandage around his head. Since becoming blind he was more aware of everything, on so many levels.
As his fingers drifted over his face, he wondered what it would be like to pleasure himself in this state. Feeling almost as if he were breaking a taboo, he let one hand move down to grasp his morning erection, feeling his flesh harden further within his hand, the thin skin tightening around the engorged organ.
He gasped at the heightened sensations. Each pull of his hand along his shaft stimulated the nerves in his palms and fingers as well as his erection. The sensations didn't end there, expanding outward along his arms, and, from his middle, radiating throughout his body. He could feel the bed sheets beneath his body and the light cover above him, dragging along the back of his hand as he stroked.
He touched his head with his free hand, automatically finding the point where his braid started. He ran his hand down the length of it and then used the end to tickle across his nipple, the finely coarse strands brushing his skin.
Gasping, he came, his ejaculate surging from his balls through his shaft and spreading over his hand and across his stomach.
He could feel the residual tremors moving just below his skin for a long time after.
May 04, 2001
Obi-Wan sat cross-legged in the small circle of Trrrnnnrrr youths. It had been a fascinating mission; while he had been forced to leave the actual work of the mission to his master, it had allowed him to spend time with several of the bird-like beings. They had proved to be as curious about him as he was about them and the information had flown freely among them.
Lnnnrrrtt cocked its head to one side, indicating his intension to speak and Obi-Wan bent his own head in a fair version of the Trrrnnnrrr listening pose.
"An telling us, Hobi-on," began Lnnnrrrtt, his heavy accent no longer strange to Obi-Wan's ears. "You pleasure yourself?"
Srrrvv cocked its head. "My nestling means in a sexual manner," it specified.
Cocking his own head, Obi-Wan answered. "Yes, I do."
"All humanoids do so?"
"Yes, in my experience all beings do, in their own manner. Do you?"
"Oh, yes," said Lnnnrrrtt, quite vigorously. The others chattered; Obi-Wan had come to recognize the noise as laughter. "But it is more desirable to be pleasure by others."
"Yes, it is," agreed Obi-Wan, being careful not to nod his head, which would have been an insult to his new friends.
"Would Hobi-on wish to pleasure with the nestlings who are friends?"
"Oh." Obi-Wan blinked in surprised. The Trrrnnnrrr were quite conservative and the invitation to an orgy took him by surprise. Much as the idea intrigued him - would it even be physically possible? - he had to refuse. Carefully. "I am very flattered, but I have already made a permanent nest with someone."
"You say you pleasured yourself, no?"
"Um, yes, it is something humanoids continue to do even after they have made a permanent nest."
"Very undisciplined," said Srrrvv.
One of its nestlings twittered in annoyance. "Different cultures, Lnnnrrrtt. You must keep an open mind."
"Thank you," said Obi-Wan.
"Still we remain curious. Would Hobi-on have vids to show us how you get pleasure with those strange bodies?"
May 05, 2001
Returning early from his outing with his friends, Obi-Wan hung his cloak on the its hook and removed his boots, placing them next to his master's. He looked around for Qui-Gon, brow furrowing as he realised his master wasn't in the common room or the kitchen.
Going to Qui-Gon's door, he raised his hand to knock, when a low, soft groan filled the air. Obi-Wan froze, hand raised midway. As he listened, he made out the unmistakable sound of flesh moving over flesh, the slap of a hand as it reached the bottom of a shaft, the soft grunts of effort and whispered moans of pleasure.
He continued to stand by his master's door, listening. His imagination supplied the visual; Qui-Gon's large hand wrapped around his phallus, pulling with long, even strokes that quickly grew rapid and uneven, like the rise and fall of his chest. Obi-Wan's own breathing grew laboured as he listened, hand rubbing at the bulge at his own groin.
He stuffed his fist in his mouth as Qui-Gon's low groan of completion signalled his own climax.
He stood for long moments outside his master's door, trying to catch his breath before turning and creeping soundlessly to his own room.
May 06, 2001
These men fascinate me. They are level-headed, wise, calm fair, where my world is all passion - anger and hatred ruling side by side with love and joy. These extremes are costly. My world is deeply ravaged.
But these Jedi are not ravaged; though the elder is silver-haired and his face lined, he acts like a young man: agile and able.
I seek them out, enjoying their company, feeling peace in being near them.
Having seen Obi-Wan heading toward the back of the garden earlier, I make my way there now. Only to be stopped in my tracks as I round the last line of shrubbery, in a hidden grove; the young Jedi is peaceful and calm no more.
His face is transformed by passion, his hand moving rapidly. I turn away, I know what he is doing, I don't need to linger and watch.
My illusions are shattered. Their peace and tranquility is only a mask.
May 07, 2001
Qui-Gon pulled lazily at his organ. The gentle slide of his hand was familiar, easy, and he reacted predictably to it. His breathing increased as the intensity of the sensations increased. Yes, it was good.
He imagined Obi-Wan, spread out before him, naked and needy. Qui-Gon increased his pace, tightened his grip, thumb sliding over the sweet bump just below the crown. Oh my, yes.
The Obi-Wan in his mind was moaning, sighing and begging prettily. Yes, he was close now, so close.
"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan's breathy whimpers had become a confused squeak and it took Qui-Gon a moment to realise his real live lover stood in the doorway to their bedroom.
Oh dear.
May 08, 2001
Today I caught a glimpse of my master naked. It isn't the first time, but it is the first time that I noticed.
Lean, long, strong. I could almost taste his honey coloured skin.
I knew the moment I caught this glimpse that it would live to arouse my nights.
And how it does; my hand moving over my own flesh, my mind moving over his, my heart beating, beating, beating.
My climax leaves me on the sound of his name.
May 09, 2001
Heat.
The night is hot, the air sliding over my skin like the burning touch of my master. My lover. But he isn't touching me now. Not tonight.
Tonight he is watching me; watching as my fingers travel the same paths his have; watching as I tug on my own braid, wrap my fingers around it and tug, letting my head follow, exposing the line of my neck to his gaze; watching as my own hand wraps around the hot length of my shaft and strokes along it, up and down and up and down.
His gaze is like molten lava, burning across my flesh. I know where to touch next by the weight of it. His eyes follow my hand as it traces my chest, follow and lead it both as if his eyes and my hand are tethered each to the other.
And I'm on fire, burning, white hot, flames reaching to the sky, higher, higher, higher until I explode. Hot liquid spreads over my hand, splatters against my chest, leaving me gasping.
Languor spreads through my limbs, like the flow of a heated spring, bubbling through the ground. He lies next to me, my master, my lover, surrounding me like earth surrounds that spring; mated.
Heat.
May 10, 2001
"What are you doing?" asked Obi-Wan.
"I would have thought that was rather obvious," replied Qui-Gon with a wry glance at his hand, still wrapped around his shaft.
"I'm in the next room, if you wanted to make love..."
"I didn't want to make love," Qui-Gon said slowly.
"Oh."
May 11, 2001
I play my drum slowly. The sound of each beat reverberates through the ground and air, touching each member of the circle. Chiefs, aristocrats, simple workers, warriors, diplomats and the two Jedi sent to observe - I watch them all.
I can tell the moment the sound finds its echo in their bodies. Even the Jedi cannot hide it from me. The younger ones pick it up sooner, their youthful bodies eager and responsive, uncontrolled. The Jedi boy is an exception, my rhythm has sped and most of the others have succumbed to it before he does. His master and our chief are the only two who last longer.
As soon as I have them all I quicken my pounding, bringing my song, and they, to a climax.
May 12, 2001
The ceremony was simple, performed in privacy and by countless others before him. Still, Obi-Wan felt self-conscious and somewhat anxious. Which, of course, wasn't in the least bit helping him perform.
He stopped himself from looking around the groove again; he already knew he was quite alone. Taking another deep breath, he tried to calm his nerves. Well, he thought wryly as he began to stroke himself, not all of them.
Soon the familiar sensation of skin on skin pushed everything else aside and, after a few moments of soft pleasure, Obi-Wan came.
Panting, he watched as his seed slowly sank into the ground, fertilizing the earth like the seed of all the others before him and all those who were to come, leaving a part of themselves in the deep, black earth of the Senori.
May 13, 2001
"I can do it in about ten seconds."
"Ten seconds? From start to finish? No way."
"Can, too."
"It takes at least that long to get it hard."
"Maybe for you, Obi-Wan, but I can be hard in two or three seconds. That leaves seven to pop it. Still don't believe me?"
"Oh, I believe you can do it, Bruck, I just can't figure out why you'd want to."
May 14, 2001
"You're upset."
"No...surprised."
"Just because I don't feel like making love and choose to do this doesn't mean I don't love you."
"I know."
"I just..."
"It's all right, Master. We are still two, as well as one."
"Yes."
"I love you, Qui-Gon."
"And I love you, Padawan."
May 15, 2001
Qui-Gon let himself in and wearily made his way to the bedroom. To his surprise and despite the late hour the lights were still on, though they were set to low. Obi-Wan was not asleep. Obi-Wan was, in fact, very much awake.
Qui-Gon's young lover lay on their bed, the sheets artfully draped to cover nothing.
"Master," purred Obi-Wan, one hand drifting toward a very obvious erection. "I thought you'd never get back."
He smiled despite his tiredness. It had been awhile since they'd had a chance to make love. His own shaft twitched slightly at the sight before him, but his muscles complained wearily.
Dealing quickly with his clothing, he slipped into the bed with his lover. Obi-Wan turned to him, mouth and hands eager, but Qui-Gon took his lover's hands in his own and pulled back slightly.
"Let me," he said softly. Eyes dark and blue in the half-light glittered up at him and then Obi-Wan lay back.
"I am yours," said his padawan, voice husky, low with want.
"Yes, you are," Qui-Gon agreed as his hands began to wander over Obi-Wan's body.
Gasping, arching, Obi-Wan responded to the stimulation.
"Yes, Master, please," begged Obi-Wan as Qui-Gon's hands drifted toward his lover's groin. But Qui-Gon drew back and continued to tease.
Over and over they played out the same scene until finally Qui-Gon moved his hand down to stimulate his lover's genitals.
He gently rolled Obi-Wan's testicles, long fingers moving over the fragile orbs. His other hand grasped Obi-Wan's erection and slid along the length, pulling whimpers and soft cries of pleasure from Obi-Wan.
Finally the young man climaxed, the evidence of his orgasm spreading over Qui-Gon's hand.
A nudge with the Force turned the low lights off and Qui-Gon gathered his limp padawan into his arms.
"Master, you didn't-"
"That's all right. I'm rather tired.
"Thank you, Qui-Gon."
"It was my pleasure, Obi-Wan."
His lover chuckled. "Actually, I think I can safely say that the pleasure was mine."
May 16, 2001
Toss.
Turn.
Sigh.
Gasp.
Moan.
Groan.
Whimper.
"Oh yes!"
Soft sigh.
Snore.
May 17, 2001
The beast rises from the forest, hungry, eager, meeting its master with a slap. Soon it becomes wet with its own tears; slick, hot, growing fiercer.
Without warning it spits hot viscous liquid.
Then it subsides, shrinking back into the bush whence it came.
May 18, 2001
"Obi-Wan..."
Head on Qui-Gon's hip, he looked up, eyes deep, aroused.
"I want to watch."
"You certainly have a good view," Qui-Gon said, tone wry. Obi-Wan's chuckle blew air over Qui-Gon's shaft, making it twitch and begin to grow.
Obi-Wan slowly licked his lips, reaching over to take Qui-Gon's hand and bringing it to his growing hardness. The glittering eyes were turned up to him once more.
"Do it."
Qui-Gon obeyed, helpless beneath the sultry gaze.
May 19, 2001
He is lovely in his pain. So stoic, like all the Jedi before him; his suffering is silent, unvoiced.
Someone less observant might believe that Obi-Wan Kenobi does not mourn his master passing into the Force, but I can see it. I can see it lurking in the corners of his eyes like something too terrible to look upon directly.
He pretends he is strong, but I can see that he is really delicate, made pale and fragile by his loss.
The memory of him like this will spur my pleasure for a long time to come.
May 20, 2001
As Lord of the Land, it is my duty to fertilize my people. It is my seed that opens them up, turns them into reproductive creatures. Male and female alike, I penetrate their bodies and anoint them with my essence.
Most of the time it is a duty I enjoy, a pleasant task. There are times however, when I am weary and my performance lags. When this happens, I carry in my mind a few choice images sure to bring me up to the task set before me.
My current favourites include one of the Jedi who were here not long ago. I knew installing vidcatchers in their rooms would pay off. The younger of the two would sometimes lie, naked in his bed, and play with his organ, bringing himself to completion.
It seemed an odd habit to me, to waste the feelings on oneself and the seed to the sheets, but I take advantage of what I saw nonetheless. It makes me hard and ready to perform, seeing his pale body spread out on the sheets, one hand gripping his enlarged organ, sliding over it again and again and again.
He made noises, too: grunt and groans and breathless moans.
One time he ran his fingers through the seed that coated his belly and brought them to his mouth, tasting the life-bearing liquid.
And now I am ready for my duty, more than ready, eager for it.
May 21, 2001
Watching the dancers, Obi-Wan felt himself harden. He banked down his arousal, but it kept flaring again, as if the dancing lent the air itself the power to arouse.
He caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, amazed to discover another member of the audience masturbating. His eyes and mouth both went round as he realised many of the beings around him were. It served to increase his own arousal and he was hard pressed not to rub himself through his leggings.
Turning to his master, he gasped in shock as he realised that Qui-Gon was also masturbating, one large hand disappearing into his master's clothing.
"Master," he whispered.
"It is expected, Padawan. A way of honouring their god of creativity," Qui-Gon told him in a soft whisper. "I suggest you do a little more research in advance of our next mission, Padawan."
Obi-Wan hung his head at the rebuke, but soon it was forgotten. Having been given permission, he pushed his hand into his leggings and began to pump his erection.
He stifled his moan as the dancers, the air, and his own hand conspired to bring him quickly to his climax, the public venue seeming to have no dampening effect on him at all. But it was his master's soft gasp that triggered his own orgasm.
May 22, 2001
He woke, alone in their bed. Opening eyes still heavy with sleep, he found his master, sitting, cloak-wrapped, in the large, over-stuffed chair that loomed in the corner. He opened his mouth, intent on offering his lover a greeting, a question, but Qui-Gon spoke first, his voice deep and sleep-husky.
"Expose yourself."
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat and he hurried to obey, shaft hardening painfully. He pushed the sheets away, the cloth rough against his suddenly sensitive skin. His right hand moved automatically, sliding down his body toward his need.
"Not yet."
Obi-Wan froze and then let his hands fall to the side. His breathing was unsteady, each exhalation loud in his own ears. His hips shifted, a soft murmur passing his lips; the sound and movements involuntary.
"I would like to watch you," said his master, voice husky still, but now it was arousal that coloured the tones instead of sleep. "Touch yourself."
"How?"
"As if I were not here."
Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and let his hand come up, sliding along his hip to clasp his erection. He groaned as he palmed the hard length, wrapping his fingers around himself and beginning a slow rhythm.
He let his other hand wander over his face, to his neck, playing with his braid. That brought a gasp from the corner, reminding him of his audience, spiking his arousal again.
He stroked faster.
Finding the bottom of his braid, he brushed it over his nipple. The ghost-like touch had its usual effect and with a soft moan he came, wet-hot come spreading over his hand and belly.
He lay back, panting, breath slowing to normal. The bed dipped and he turned his head, eyes opening to meet Qui-Gon's.
"Close your eyes."
He obeyed, letting them drift shut.
"Can you feel me watching you?"
He licked his lips. "Yes."
"Remember this feeling and I can watch you whenever you desire it."
The bed shifted as his master stood and left.
Obi-Wan could feel the weight of that gaze for a long time.
May 23, 2001
Obi-Wan pushed Qui-Gon flat onto his back and climbed on to of him. Straddling his lover's waist, he settled against the warm skin and took himself in hand.
"Watch," he ordered, voice almost a low growl.
Qui-Gon arched beneath him, but not hard enough to buck him off. Then his master spread his arms wide and turned his hands into the sheets, grabbling hold of the material.
"Yes, just like that," said Obi-Wan. He began to slide his hand along his own erection, feeling the hot silky skin that covered his hardness.
He watched as the banked arousal in his lover's eyes flared to life, growing deeper and stronger with each passing moment. It increased his own arousal, made his breath latch in his throat and hitch before leaving his body on a hard, gasping moan.
Obi-Wan began to move his hips, pushing his shaft into the slick tunnel of his hand, revelling in the feel of heat along his palm and the soft skin of Qui-Gon's belly against his buttocks.
Qui-Gon arched again, a moan crossing his lips, and his hands twisted the sheets. Obi-Wan moved faster, pleasure going through him, making him tingle. It built, slowly, quickly, or not - his sense of time fleeing under the onslaught of sensations.
Suddenly his climax was upon him, surging through his body as if he'd been hit with a blaster and he came.
Obi-Wan gazed down at his master, running his fingers through his own ejaculate where it covered his master's face and body; it was caught in Qui-Gon's beard and a small dollop covered one nipple.
He grinned and spoke softly to the man he was using as a bed. "Shall I lick you clean, Master?"
May 24, 2001
Obi-Wan shifted restlessly. He was tired, but sleep eluded him, remaining just past his reach. Qui-Gon muttered next to him and Obi-Wan froze, not wanting to wake his master.
Qui-Gon yawned and two blue eyes opened to stare at him.
"I can't seem to get to sleep," Obi-Wan admitted sheepishly.
Without a word Qui-Gon rose to sit on his haunches in the middle of the bed and Obi-Wan scrambled automatically to mirror him.
"All right, Padawan, let us masturbate."
"What?" Surely he'd heard wrong - Qui-Gon must have said meditate.
Qui-Gon just ginned at him and his hands dropped to his lap, nimble fingers working at the strings which held his leggings closed. Obi-Wan watched, amazed as Qui-Gon pulled his length from them and began to pump it lazily.
Obi-Wan was quick to follow his master's lead, lifting his nightshirt and wrapping his hand around his own shaft. Sensations rolled through him, enhanced by the way his master's dark blue eyes followed his movements and the steady pumping as he mirrored Qui-Gon's motions.
"Feels good," said Qui-Gon.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied meekly.
"Aren't you enjoying it?" Qui-Gon asked softly.
"Oh yes - not expecting ... this."
His master chuckled. "Now that we are lovers there are more ways of meditation open to us."
"Oh." He wondered how Qui-Gon managed to sound so normal while he was breathless.
"Youth and age each have their own pleasures and rewards. Open yourself to me and we will meet in the middle."
Obi-Wan did as his master asked, opening himself to the Force and reaching for his lover's presence. He felt Qui-Gon's control settle over him, partially reigning in his own galloping need.
Together they continued to climb toward a mutual climax.
May 25, 2001
Obi-Wan sat in the midst of the flower garden, trying to meditate. The rough bark of the massive Lujik tree was sun-warmed against his back and the blossoms that surrounded him gave off a gentle scent. But on the other side of the Lujik tree were several padawans, taking and giggling noisily.
In the thick of them was Bruck Chun, bragging about his sexual exploits. Obi-Wan tried to block it out, had been trying for a half hour, but found he just could not.
Finally, after a lengthy and lurid description of Bruck's latest conquest, Obi-Wan couldn't take it anymore and he rounded the trunk.
"And tonight," Bruck was saying, "Saye meets the Bruck Love Machine. And tomorrow-"
Obi-Wan interrupted Bruck before he could continue. "And tomorrow you'll be back to your ten second solo performances."
May 26, 2001
Obi-Wan lay back on the bed, his hands moving over his body, following the path his lover's gaze travelled. He gripped his erection in one hand, pumping, pumping, pumping, spreading the small drops leaking from the tip. The slickened flesh moved easily within his grasp, speeding his movements.
His free hand moved over his face, tracing his own features, scrapping along his mostly stubble beard, moving inexorably to the spot behind his right ear where his braid had once hung.
He could hear his breath as it rushed from his body, the slap of his hand along his flesh. And the weighty gaze of his lover, a physical touch. He moved his hand down to tweak his nipple, letting himself go.
A gasp and he came.
He kept his eyes closed as he reached for the sheet, cleaning himself off. He kept them closed as he rolled to his side, satiated limbs growing heavy with sleep. He kept them closed as he drifted off, never losing the feeling of being watched by the lover who was no longer there.
May 27, 2001
I don't know who taught my Obi-Wan to pleasure himself. I suppose, like most, he learned through trial and error that which pleased him most. Which would mean his hedonism is his own.
While he can be quick about it when needed, it can, and usually does, take him quite awhile. He savours each part of it, from the first touches that awaken his shaft, to the final throes of his climax.
Watching him has become a pleasure of its own.
May 28, 2001
Obi-Wan walked with dignity in his customary place, a half step behind his master, ignoring the giggles and titters that came from various quarters of the hall. Arriving at the head table, they bowed together to their horse-like hosts and settled into the places left for them, not quite halfway down.
After niceties had been traded with their neighbours, Qui-Gon ventured an inquiry.
"My apprentice and I seem to be the source of some amusement this evening."
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the Prefect of Learning. "I'm afraid I know why and must apologise for our youth. They're learning xenobiology in school and I fear they've just arrived at the section on masturbation and our courses naturally involve, among others, humanoid physiology..." her voice trailed away.
"Ah, I see," said Qui-Gon. "It makes sense now."
Obi-Wan hid his own laughter behind his cup, the eyes that met his master's dancing with humour. He was suddenly desperately curious as to the mechanics of how their hosts performed that act.
May 29, 2001
"Are you going out, Master?"
"Yes, Padawan, I am. Have you any plans?"
"I'll be staying in...working on a...project."
"I could stay and render assistance if you like?"
"Oh, no, Master! Thank you, but it's a solo project."
May 30, 2001
It doesn't happen very often. I am old and tired and far more cross than a Jedi ought to be, and this place of sand and heat taxes my body. But now and then I imagine I can still feel his gaze upon me and my heart beats a little faster, my blood rushes more quickly and my shaft fills. An ages old response to stimuli; I accept it as the gift it is and take myself in hand.
I'm old and tired and sometimes it takes a long time, sometimes it takes no time at all. But I hold onto the gift of his presence - real or imagined, it is all the same - for as long as I can.
May 31, 2001
"Oh!" Obi-Wan exclaimed as he suddenly felt full, complete in a way he had never experienced before. Qui-Gon -or was it himself- chuckled.
"Qui-Gon?" he, or Qui-Gon, said.
"Yes, my love?"
"What's going on?" But even as he asked, he knew and spoke the words with Qui-Gon.
"Our spirits are occupying the same space in the Force."
Obi-Wan raised his/Qui-Gon's arms and somersaulted twice.
"This has potential..."
Running his/Qui-Gon's hands down their body, he let his palm circle his shaft. His erection was eager and it was at once himself and Qui-Gon's familiar length. They pumped gently, the rhythm neither his nor Qui-Gon's, but something new.
Their pleasure built, flowing through him, through Qui-Gon, through them together and their orgasm was entire, encompassing everything they were, everything they knew. It seemed to stretch and last for all time and Obi-Wan wondered if it had begun, if it would ever end...
"Welcome to the moment, Obi-Wan."