chelle

Phantom Menace

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Library Of Congress

chelle

Title: Library Of Congress

Fandom: Phantom Menace

Author's email: chelle@chelle.slashcity.org

Author's URL: http://chelle.slashcity.org/

Category: Slash

Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Archive: Ask first

Rating: NC-17

AN: This is a gift for Pumpkin. Not beta'd, all errors are mine. Thank you to SO for the title, I think.

A warm hand insinuated itself into Qui-Gon's robe, absently stroking his back. "Obi-Wan," he warned.

"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan turned his attention from the shelves in front of him to Qui-Gon.

"We're in the library."

"Very observant of you, Master." He looked around, pointedly. "Although judging from the dust I doubt even the maintenance droids come here very often."

The hand continued it's stroking. It should have been relaxing, a warm hand moving over his back. It wasn't. "We are here to find information on the history of the T'serin."

"That is precisely what I am doing. The catalog said it was DZ 385."

He craned his neck. "Top shelf, I think." Reaching out with the Force, he pulled a small stool over to him.

"You could have walked over and gotten it."

Obi-Wan gave him a mischievous grin. "Yes, I could have." He stepped up onto the stool, hand still on Qui-Gon's back. He grabbed the needed volume with his other hand, passing it to his master. Then he reached for Qui-Gon's shoulder, tugging the other man closer.

"It's not often I get to be taller than you," he whispered, lowering his mouth to Qui-Gon's. Qui-Gon held his mouth perfectly still, refusing to respond. Obi-Wan was not deterred in the slightest; he took Qui-Gon's lower lip between his teeth, closing his mouth around it and sucking softly. Qui-Gon pulled his hips back from his padawan's body, seeking to conceal his reaction. Obi-Wan's amusement flowed across their bond. Qui-Gon hadn't succeeded in hiding a thing.

I have a headache.

You're a powerful Jedi Master, I'm sure you can heal it, Obi-Wan answered.

This position is straining my neck, Qui-Gon tried again.

Now you know how I feel.

Obi-Wan had abandoned the lower lip in favor of the upper, and the hand on his back was stroking slowly up and down, passing closer to his buttocks on each descent.

All of this dust is making my nose tickle. I may sneeze on you.

Control, Qui-Gon, exercise some control.

I'm trying to, his mental voice growled.

Think of it as a training exercise, Master.

I'm the one who's supposed to be training you.

Obi-Wan released his mouth. "Role reversal can be good for a relationship," he murmured, before taking a piece of Qui-Gon's neck into his mouth and sucking. Gradually, he worked his way up Qui-Gon's neck, toward the sensitive spot just beneath Qui-Gon's ear. Reaching it, he licked lightly.

Qui-Gon was clenching his free hand, refusing to give into his lover.

The mouth on his neck sucked lightly, just enough to remind him it was there. Another lick. More suction, slightly harder. The licking and sucking alternated, lighter than he wanted, but gaining in strength.

Suddenly Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon tight against him, simultaneously sucking hard, in exactly the manner Qui-Gon preferred. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

Obi-Wan continued to skillfully torment his lover for a few minutes. Minutes that seemed an eternity to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan released him and relief warred with disappointment. It was unlike his apprentice to give up so easily.

He hadn't. Fingers slid along his erection, teasing him through the fabric of his leggings.

"Master, I'm shocked." Obi-Wan was speaking quietly, his mouth next to Qui-Gon's ear. "Such a display. In the Temple Library of all places. Have you no control?"

"I have plenty of control, Padawan." It took all of that control to keep his voice bland, devoid of his desire. "You will break before I."

Obi-Wan raked his eyes over Qui-Gon, appraising him. "Is that a challenge?"

"Not at all. Merely a statement of reality." The corners of Qui-Gon's mouth turned up slightly.

"Your grasp on reality has always been somewhat tenuous, Master." Obi-Wan's voice was pitched low; it slid through him, leaving another wave of desire in it's wake.

Warm hands traced his face. A finger ran along the bridge of his nose. A thumb moved across his lower lip. The pads of three fingers slid up the back of an ear, moved back down. Fingers moved gradually down his neck, coming to rest in the "V" where his tunic crossed.

Obi-Wan caught his gaze. Eyes not wavering from Qui-Gon's he tugged the fabric apart, exposing as much of Qui-Gon's chest as possible without actually removing any clothing. Then he lowered his mouth.

Without thought, Qui-Gon arched into the caress, his head falling back. Remembering the nature of the contest between them, he started to straighten. A tweak to his nipple halted him. Obi-Wan's hands were still holding his tunic open. Qui-Gon felt a twinge of pride at Obi-Wan's mastery of the Force. His ability to use it at such a moment was impressive. Unfortunately, it was not something he could place in Obi-Wan's official record.

Obi-Wan's official record. That was something he could concentrate on, use to keep his mind occupied. What should his next entry mention? Obi-Wan's handling of that touchy ambassador from Wheren. A soft nibble, just below his collar bone. Yes, Obi had done him proud that day. What else? Another force tendril slid over his abdomen and then snaked around to his back, moving downward, touching his crease lightly and then disappearing. What was that planet they had been on again? It was just last week. Why couldn't he…Obi-Wan released his chest. Taking Qui-Gon's face in his hands he began to tease his master's lips. Light brushes, soft tugs, words whispered in his mind.

He kept his lips clamped tightly together. He would not give in.

The caresses on his lips remained light. The ones in his mind did not. Penetrating touches accompanied the whispered endearments, a gentle brushing of mind against mind, offering love, offering passion, offering Obi-Wan.

He groaned, dropped the book. He lifted Obi-Wan up, kicked the stool away. Putting Obi-Wan down, he pressed him into the shelves. The desire he had been trying to control blazed in his eyes as he ran them over his apprentice. "You've been playing with me. Do you know what happens to padawans who play with their masters?"

"They have fun."

Obi-Wan answered, insolent.

"Perhaps, but their masters have more." He grabbed one of Obi-Wan's wrists, his large hand circling it easily. He pulled the arm out to Obi-Wan's side, angled above his head. He did the same with the other. "What shall I do with you?" Obi-Wan didn't answer. Qui-Gon's eyes bore into him. "No suggestions? You started this little game. Surely you knew how you wanted to end it."

"Fuck me." The words were part challenge, part plea.

Qui-Gon tsked. "Such crude language. Didn't your master teach you better manners than that? And in the library too?" He tilted his head to one side, considering. "Still, it isn't such a bad suggestion." He leaned closer, whispered in his apprentice's ear. "But what if someone sees us?" Unable to resist, he captured the lobe between his lips, sucked. Obi-Wan gasped. "But that's what you want isn't it?"

He traced the side of Obi-Wan's neck with his mouth, brushing his lips across it. He bit, eliciting another strangled gasp. He kissed the skin lightly, soothing the hurt. Then he pulled back, again looking into his apprentice's eyes. "You hope we get caught, don't you? You want someone to see us, to see me thrusting inside your sweet little ass, taking you, making you groan and shake and cry out."

Obi-Wan said nothing, tried to look away. "I won't do it unless you say it, unless you tell me."

Obi-Wan met his master's gaze, his expression fierce. "Yes," he hissed. "I want it. Want someone to see us. Want someone to know how much you want me, how crazy I make you, how I strip away your control, your reserve, until the master is gone and only the man remains." He paused, lowered his voice. "The man who needs me, needs to pound into me, lose himself in me, take what only I can give him." His voice was calm, almost soft as he finished, only the emotion in his eyes betraying him. "The man I love."

Qui-Gon claimed his lips as soon as the last syllable was uttered. The kiss was frenzied, but brief. He released Obi-Wan's wrists, took a step back. "Turn around." Obi-Wan obeyed without question. "Lower your leggings." They dropped to the top of his boots. Qui-Gon took hold of his hips, pulling him back, away from the shelves. "Lean forward; hold onto the shelves." Obi-Wan bent forward, and Qui-Gon dropped to his knees.

Obi-Wan's position parted his cheeks nicely. Qui-Gon ran his fingers lightly over the exposed flesh. He paused at Obi-Wan's entrance. "Right here, my love. This is where I'm going to enter you." Leaning forward, he licked lightly at the puckered skin, making a circle around it. "You taste of sex, of passion. Have I ever told you that before?"

"No."

"You do." A finger circled the skin made moist by his tongue. He opened his utility belt, withdrew a small vial. Flipping back the top, he drizzled the liquid over Obi-Wan's crease, heard Obi-Wan fight back a groan. Qui-Gon stroked the small of his back, his touch firm and reassuring. "Go ahead and groan. Let people hear you, my love. Let them know what I do to you, how much pleasure I give you."

He ran a finger through the oil, coating it, then he began to push inside. "If I let myself I could come from just this. I feel you clutch at my finger, and I think about how you will hold me inside you, and I almost come." Obi-Wan groaned. Qui-Gon chuckled. "Don't worry, love. I won't. I won't ever come outside of your body, when I could come inside. When I could feel your muscles contract around me, milking me, pulling the come from my body."

"Now, please."

Qui-Gon stood, opened his pants, releasing the part of himself with which he claimed Obi-Wan, claimed his body, claimed his love. He covered his palm with the oil, stroked his own length. "You can't see me, but I'm oiling myself for you. Getting my cock nice and slick so I can slide into you." He took hold of Obi-Wan's hips, moved his own so that his erection moved back and forth in Obi-Wan's crease. Obi-Wan pushed backward, encouraging, but Qui-Gon held him still. "None of that. I'm taking you, remember? Taking you right now." He drove himself forward, completely impaled in one stroke.

Obi-Wan cried out.

Qui-Gon had one hand on his padawan's shoulder, the other still holding a hip. He began moving with deep, sure strokes. "That's it, Obi-Wan. Cry out, groan, beg. I love it when you make noise."

"Master." Gasped as he connected with Obi-Wan's prostate.

"Yes. I am your master, just as you are mine." He was surprised at his own ability to form a coherent sentence. It was all too much. Obi-Wan bent over in front of him, clothed except for the buttocks Qui-Gon was piercing. Obi-Wan gasping, crying out, needing him. He struggled against the urge to move faster.

"Touch me."

The words sliced through him, and Qui-Gon obeyed without thinking. Obi-Wan's hardness felt good in his grasp, stroking his palm, fucking his hand.

There were no more words after that, just the two of them, moving into each other, onto each other, seeking, pleading, demanding.

He remembered, at the last moment, to point Obi-Wan's cock at the floor, sparing the books.

Shaking, he withdrew from Obi-Wan's body, sank to the floor, pulling Obi-Wan with him. His arms wrapped tight around the other man, he inhaled deeply, seeking calm. "You won."

Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "I did." He looked at the floor in front of them. "We made a bit of a mess."

"Not me. My mess went inside of you."

"Yes, but you caused my mess."

"You started it."

"You finished it."

Qui-Gon chuckled, nuzzled Obi-Wan's neck. "So I did."

Obi-Wan gave him a hopeful look. "You wouldn't happen to have any towels in that utility belt of yours would you?"

"No."

"So you're prepared for sex, just not the clean-up."

"The sex is more fun." Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled.

"Whatever happened to 'a Jedi should always be prepared'?"

"I was prepared."

Obi-Wan sighed, extricated himself from Qui-Gon's grasp. "I'll go find a towel."

***

As he passed into the main hallway, he encountered Master Piell.

"Obi-Wan, I was looking for Qui-Gon. Is he here as well?"

Obi-Wan smiled. Gesturing at the room he had just left, he said, "In there, in the Ds."

Master Piell nodded his thanks, then started in the direction indicated.

Obi-Wan smirked, determined to arrive with the towel at the best possible moment.