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The position always seemed somewhat impersonal to Obi-Wan. Cold, even. It was hard to look at his partner and difficult, if not impossible, to touch them as he did his best to brace himself against whatever surface he was leaning against.
Until Qui-Gon.
They had been lovers for but a few months when, after a moment of teasing his master about something Obi-Wan can’t even recall, Qui-Gon grabbed him, turned him around and bore him down to the bed on all fours. Then to his belly. Qui-Gon’s big body draped over him and Obi-Wan felt the warmth of his master from head to ankles.
“Master?” Obi-Wan said. They had discussed Obi-Wan’s feelings on this position and had not visited it so far.
Qui-Gon heard the question in his voice, stroked a hand down the length of his spine. “Do you trust me?”
Obi-Wan blinked. “Yes.”
“Then believe me,” Qui-Gon said, “that when I take you this way, it will be anything but cold and distant.” Qui-Gon’s chin nudged him and he scraped his beard and teeth along the back of Obi-Wan’s neck.
Obi-Wan turned in surprise as the weight and warmth vanished.
Qui-Gon arched a brow. “For now, Padawan, duty calls. We have a transport to catch. Get dressed.”
The two week mission was routine. Diplomatic meetings, trade route planning sessions, interplanetary business mergers, formal balls upon the reaching of a deal.
What wasn’t routine were his master’s actions in between their daily agenda.
They largely kept their intimate relationship confined to their time on Coruscant, save for the occasional touch of hands or quick embraces. (And that one time they’d been across the city from one another, each in their own room. Obi-Wan…may have gotten them started with a single stroke between his thighs and an errant thought that had Qui-Gon taking interest.).
But this time, the touches came more often. And they lingered.
Qui-Gon embraced him from behind as he stepped from the ‘fresher, a towel wrapped around his waist. His master’s chest was warm against his back.
Qui-Gon’s fingers lingered on his hips as they revolved around one another at the breakfast buffet laid out in their room.
On their last evening, Qui-Gon pressed him against the balcony rail. He caged Obi-Wan in with his arms on either side of him, shoulders curving forward, hips and hard ridge of an erection pressing against his ass.
“Master?” Obi-Wan asked, voice coming out in a whisper.
“Hm?” Qui-Gon said, lips brushing the top of Obi-Wan’s cheekbone
“What have you been doing?” The context was obvious.
“Seducing you.”
“Master?” Obi-Wan didn’t curb the amusement in his voice.
“I know you’re nervous. Not afraid, no. Anxious. Curious. Wary.”
“I tru—“
“I know. But this won’t just be about trust. But pleasure. And I intend to make sure you have plenty. So enjoy the prelude to the show.”
They were on Coruscant two days before they got time to themselves. After assisting with his last class for the day, Obi-Wan returned to their shared quarters and found Qui-Gon waiting for him.
Qui-Gon sat on the couch in soft pants and an open robe. His long hair was bound back in a braid, his beard softened with a spicy scented oil. There were two wine glasses on the table and a nearly imperceptible nod spurred Obi-Wan toward his glass. The taste of Chandrillian Azure was sharp and sweet on his tongue. He hadn’t had the wine since his 22nd name day, when he’d finally gotten up the courage to approach his master as a man and not just his student.
“I have a bath waiting for you. When you’re finished…” Qui-Gon rose, kissed Obi-Wan’s mouth before he could take another sip of wine, and breathed against his lips, “come to my bed.”
Qui-Gon pushed him toward the ‘fresher before slipping into his own room and closing the door.
Obi-Wan bathed, quickly and very thoroughly, using the gentle soap Qui-Gon had left out for him
He dried himself and headed for Qui-Gon’s room, naked.
The lights were dimmed, candles burned on the bureau, the bed was turned down and Qui-Gon stood next to it, pulling off his robe. Obi-Wan’s eyes followed the line of his torso to the thatch of dark hair between his legs and the long cock there, just beginning to harden.
“Come,” Qui-Gon said, gesturing to the bed, “on your back.”
Obi-Wan went.
The first drop of warmed oil on his cooling chest made him shiver. It was followed by Qui-Gon’s hands massaging the oil over his pectorals and down his flanks, over his belly and hip bones. He hummed as Qui-Gon worked the muscles of his quads and calves and the tender centers of his feet.
They didn’t speak, until Qui-Gon swept his hand one last time over Obi-Wan’s chest and told him to turn over.
Warm and fuzzy headed and feeling as though the bones in his body had liquefied, he did. When he felt Qui-Gon’s cock brush against his ass, the fog in his brain cleared a bit and he raised his head, only to have Qui-Gon gently push it back down. Oil fell onto his back and the whole process started again.
This time Qui-Gon stayed close. Strong fingers trailed up Obi-Wan’s arms and Qui-Gon’s soft hair brushed Obi-Wan’s shoulders. As he worked the knots out of Obi-Wan’s back, Qui-Gon’s calves snugged up against the outside of his own and Obi-Wan reached for them, drawing a finger along the bony ridge of Qui-Gon’s knee, the breadth of his thigh.
Qui-Gon took his hands then, curling their fingers together before pushing them to the bed next to Obi-Wan’s head. “Keep them there,” he said, voice soft, “or I’ll be forced to bind them.”
Obi-Wan let out a noise that might have been intended as a word. He felt Qui-Gon slip down his back, warm lips and hot tongue snaking over the slick, bumpy ridge of his spine, the curve of his rib cage, the small of his back, the swell of his ass and the sensitive area where it met his thighs. Then Qui-Gon’s hands gripped his ass and he buried his face between Obi-Wan’s cheeks.
“Qui-Gon!”
Qui-Gon curled his fingers around Obi-Wan’s thighs and pushed deeper, beard scraping the sensitive skin of Obi-Wan’s ass cheeks, tongue flicking hot and wet over the center of him, pressing inside with one rough thrust after another.
Obi-Wan’s cock had swelled against the bed and he tried to move his hips in time with Qui-Gon’s thrusts, but was held fast. He could only receive, not participate.
Qui-Gon drove wordless noises out of him at an embarrassing rate, as the rough, flat of his tongue drew along his perineum and back up to push inside him. The feeling wasn’t as deep as being fucked. It wasn’t as sharp as when Qui-Gon sucked his cock. But it was intimate in a way Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how to verbalize and it made something in his stomach hitch, made his balls tighten and the tip of his cock tingle and he gasped a warning.
Then Qui-Gon was pulling away. “Not tonight, love. Another night, I’ll taste you until you come. Tonight, we had other plans.”
Obi-Wan felt something woosh into his master’s hands and then Qui-Gon was telling him to lift up and slipping a pillow beneath his hips. His cock nestled into the soft hollows of it as he was pressed back down. Frissons of heat shot through his belly.
“I sensed,” Qui-Gon said, as he drizzled oil along the cleft of Obi-Wan’s ass, a finger guiding it where it needed to be and pushing inside him without preamble, punching the air out of Obi-wan’s lungs, “that no one has ever done that for you.”
“No,” Obi-Wan said, pushing back onto Qui-Gon’s finger. “My partners weren’t that…adventurous.”
Qui-Gon chuckled. “Oh, there are so many things that I can show you.” He mouthed at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, tongue hot and teeth sharp as he pushed another finger inside him. Sound left Obi-Wan’s mouth in a near wail and he bucked against the pillow, back into Qui-Gon, unsure if he was trying to get away or get closer.
Then the fingers were gone and Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s cock at his entrance, slick and hot.
“Oh, Force,” Obi-Wan hissed. Qui-Gon felt even bigger from this angle, pressing into him slowly, inch by inch, until all Obi-Wan could focus on was the bright spot of pleasure where they were joined, the fullness of his master deep inside him, the warmth of his skin, the grip of his fingers on Obi-Wan’s hips, the rough hair of his pelvis and his thighs against Obi-Wan’s skin.
Then Qui-Gon shifted, his hands coming up to tangle with Obi-Wan’s, pulling them further up the bed, his chest pressing against Obi-Wan’s back, his mouth finding Obi-Wan’s temple to press a kiss there, murmur words Obi-Wan couldn’t understand as the weight and heat of Qui-Gon’s body in him and all around him drove him to distraction.
“Please,” he said. It was a whisper.
“Please what?” Qui-Gon’s breath tickled the fine hairs at Obi-Wan’s temple.
“Fuck me.”
“Like this?” Qui-Gon asked, slowly drawing his hips away until it felt like only the tip of his cock remained in Obi-Wan, before slowly pushing back in. The drag of him made Obi-Wan keen. Qui-Gon continued the unhurried movements. And Obi-Wan, legs shaking, was glad he was on his belly and not his knees. He wasn’t sure he could hold his own weight at the moment.
“I think,” Qui-Gon said, shifting slightly to run his tongue over Obi-Wan’s shoulder even as he continued the torturous movements of his hips, “that we might be able to get you to come like this.” Slow drag out. “Maybe not tonight.” Slow push in. “But with practice, soon.” Three quick, smooth thrusts made Obi-Wan groan and shake his head. He’d never come from penetration. Oh, he got close, but that final distance was always out of reach.
“But even if you don’t,” Qui-Gon said, “I’ll continue to enjoy you this way, lose myself in your body, before I take your cock in my mouth and suck you dry.”
A surge of heat shot through Obi-Wan at that, his cock twitching in response. “Faster.”
Qui-Gon chuckled. “I believe I promised you that when I took you this way, it would be anything but a cold, distant fuck. I intend to keep that promise.”
“I believe you,” Obi-Wan said, trying to bring his legs under his control, looking for leverage to meet Qui-Gon’s movements with his own. “I’m surrounded by you. I’m yours. But I need you to fuck me faster. Please.”
Another kiss to his temple and then Qui-Gon was pulling back and taking Obi-Wan with him, until Obi-Wan was kneeling. Qui-Gon placed one hand on his hip and the other slid down his back, between his shoulder blades and Obi-Wan let himself be pushed flat. He wondered at the picture he made, with his face pressed against the bed and his hips canted up.
“Beautiful,” Qui-Gon said to the unvoiced question. “And mine,” he finished before snapping his hips and setting a hard, steady pace that had Obi-Wan scrabbling against the bedsheets, reaching for his own cock and having his hand slapped away and replaced by Qui-Gon’s broad palm and thick fingers, massaging him in time with his master’s thrusts.
Obi-Wan trembled, on what felt the like the edge of a precipice and when Qui-Gon groaned and came inside him, the pulsing of his master’s cock and the faint sensation of warmth and wetness in his ass, made him buck and seize in affectation of an orgasm, but his erection still hung heavy and hard between his legs.
Then Qui-Gon was moving, turning Obi-Wan onto his side, one leg thrown over Qui-Gon’s shoulder as his master suckled at the head of his cock, curling the flat of his tongue around it, before taking Obi-Wan into his mouth so far he could feel his master’s breath against his pelvis. And that was all it took. He thrust once, feebly, against Qui-Gon’s mouth and spilled down his throat. He thought he might have shouted, but the pleasure in his mind muted his surroundings.
He was vaguely aware of Qui-Gon shifting, rearranging them so that they were face-to-face, Obi-Wan’s leg slung over his hip, damp cocks pressing together, Qui-Gon’s fingers stroking low over his back, teasing the cleft of his ass, the puffy entrance.
“Well, my love?” Qui-Gon asked when Obi-Wan recovered enough to meet his gaze.
“With practice,” Obi-Wan said, “in time… I think that might be my favorite position.”